Page 53 of Crossbones
“My pet, you like this don’t you?”
“No—”
He growls at my response and his touch turns violent—
As the pain returns, so does the disgust—I gag and sink further into the depths of my mind, hoping I can disappear, at least for a little while.
The nightmare bleeds into reality as I wake up to hands hauling me to my feet. Firth connects my manacles to a chain hanging from a beam and pulls my arms above my head. I catch a glimpse of Blackwell out of the corner of my eye. He’s gripping the bars, glaring murderously at Firth. I know Blackwell is trying to figure it all out, but I don’t feel bad for not telling him the truth about Malik. He doesn’t need to know the details. He doesn’t need to know the last few hours Malik spent reminding me of the past—physically and mentally.
Footsteps echo down the hall and Malik appears in front of the bars. His eyes reflect the flames of the torchlight as he looks at me hungrily. I notice the whip in his hands and adrenaline makes my breathing pick up.
He runs the tails of the whip through his fingers as he walks into my cell.
“I’ve come across some interesting information.”
I glare at him, fists wrapped in the chainsabove me.
“I’ve been told my pet knows where Grythmoor is.”
I try and ignore the fucked up endearment and scoff. “The lost city? No one knows where it is. Why the fuck would I?”
Malik looks at me condescendingly and his hand caresses my jaw. I jerk my face away with a scowl. I see Blackwell bristle in anger and it gives me a rush of courage.
“I think we know each other well enough to stop with the games,” Malik says. “You’re going to tell me where it is.”
“I don’t know,” I say through gritted teeth.
He moves around behind me and I close my eyes, knowing what’s coming. Even so, I can’t help being startled when the handle of the whip drags across my side.
“Maybe you just need some help remembering,” Malik purrs.
I brace for the first blow but the leather slides down my other side instead. Goosebumps break out over my skin, my heart is pounding in my chest.
The crack of the whip when Malik delivers the first blow is loud in the enclosed space. My muscles tense as pain explodes across my back. He follows it with a second. The chain digs into my palms as I tighten my fists.
“Anything?” Malik asks.
“You were obviously misinformed,” I say in a tight voice.
“What about you, Blackwell?”
I glance over and meet Blackwell’s dark gaze. His knuckles are white against the iron bars and anger lines his jaw. When he doesn’t speak or even acknowledge him, Malik sighs dramatically.
“Nothing? Okay—”
I fail to look away from Blackwell before Malik hits me again, and watch the briefest glimmer of something flicker in his eyes. I grind my teeth to dust at the pain and look away as my eyes shutter in an effort to keep my composure.
Another crack from the whip and I can’t help the curse words that tumble from my mouth in a hiss. The blood dripping down my back tickles as it runs down my sides. Malik’s hand drags down my back and I flinch, breathing heavily through my nose as he walks around in front of me and smears his fingers across my cheek before grabbing my jaw.
“You know I can do this all day,” he smirks.
“Why do you think I know where Grythmoor is?” I growl between breaths.
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Malik states. “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
I can smell my blood on his fingers as his glassy eyes violently search mine. He drops his hand and moves over to the bars, still staying out of reach of Blackwell. He drags the whip handle along as he walks.
“I’m going to keep going until one of you tells me what I want to hear.”
