Page 11 of The Betrayal You Serve
3
Kane
Ifollow Reid down to his basement, it's not the first time I've been down here but even still, it shocks me.
He's had the entire place fitted out like a prison with a special extra open space at the end where he carries out his… experiments, shall we say.
Walking to the very end of the long row of doors, he pulls a set of keys from his back pocket and pushes it into the lock. The sound of metal hitting metal echoes through the eerie space.
He marches inside the small cell leaving me to peer in from the doorway.
Alana is curled into one corner with her arms wrapped around her knees.
A trickle of guilt runs through me at the sight of the tear tracks down her cheeks but then I look into her cold blue eyes and I remember who she is. The games she’s trying to play.
"Let's go," Reid demands, lifting her from the floor by her arm and pulling her from the enclosed, dark space.
He places her in a chair that's secured to the floor and ensures she doesn't move from it by the death stare he gives her alone.
"Now," he says, pulling another chair over and sitting right in front of her. "Are you going to ruin all my fun by telling me what the fuck you're playing at? Or do I get to play some unexpected games tonight?"
Her lips twist and her eyes narrow as she stares back at him.
Fair play to her, most people in her position right now would piss their pants.
I don't know anything about her, about her past. All I know is that she's married to a man who for whatever reason refuses to fuck her and I'm the one left to entertain her when her old man is busy. But from the way she's staring back at Reid like he's not one of the scariest fucking men on the planet, I start to wonder what she's been through in her life to seem so unfazed.
"Right. Good. I'm glad that’s your decision," Reid says, rubbing his hands together as if he's a kid who's just been given free rein in a candy shop.
He stands from his chair and walks over to a floor-to-ceiling closet and pulls the doors open.
Alana's eyes follow his every move before she scans the contents of the closet. But once again, there's no sign that she's nervous in any way as she looks at the array of torture devices Reid has at hand.
"So, Alana…" he muses as he looks over his options. "Tell me about your pregnancy."
"I'm not telling you fuck-all," she snaps. "I have no reason to be here."
"No?" he asks, looking over his shoulder at her. "Well then you can tell me everything, can't you? Give me all the details, prove to us that nothing is wrong and we can let you walk out the front door unharmed."
"I hope you know that my husband will kill you for this," she hisses.
"Your husband, really? The man who doesn't give a shit about you. Who hands you off to others so he doesn't have to deal with you. The man who works under my orders. "
"Under your father's orders, not yours."
"Hmm… how confident are you on that? Enough to risk your life, your baby's life?"
Alana pales slightly as Reid pulls a switchblade from the closet. It's pretty tame considering all the things he has in there, but then I guess he wants to start easy and build up to the bigger stuff.
"So, I'll ask you again. Tell us about your pregnancy."
"I'm thirteen weeks. Had my scan last week," she says, staring me right in the eye as she does.
"Scan picture?"
"In my purse."
"Legend," Reid says, nodding toward the cell he placed her in.
