Page 73 of Worth the Ruin
I’m inside, but the way the sounds are shifting around me, I don’t think it’s a house. The space feels too big, too open. A barn maybe.
It smells dank and musty, not horrible, but like somewhere that hasn’t been cleaned in a while.
“Pipe down, Dominic. You knew what you were signing up for.”
Another man.
“You said we’d use her to get his attention,” Dominic hisses quietly. “Not…notthis.”
“You’ve got a problem with it? Fuck off then, pussy.”
“Fuck you, Manny.” Dominic doesn’t leave, so he must decide that he doesn’t want to be seen as a pussy, or maybe he’s just afraid of this Manny guy. Who knows.
“Message has been delivered and Craig just checked in.” I know this voice. Pete. That’s his fucking name. The asshole who lured me into a trap, pretending a little girl was hurt.Fucking prick.“She awake yet?”
“Not yet,” Manny says.
“Well, let’s just move this along, shall we? Our guest will be arriving shortly.”
I hear him walking closer and then my cheek explodes with pain. The fucker backhanded me. My eyes pop open as my head rocks to the side. It feels like fire licking across my face and I clench my jaw, tasting blood. I turn back to face him and he smiles. A sick, twisted smile.
“Welcome back, sleepy head,” he mocks.
“You hit like a bitch,” I say, spitting blood on the floor—a mix of rotted straw and mud. Pete huffs out a small laugh at that. I glance around. It’s an old barn, just like I’d thought, with boards missing from the roof here and there. The large doors at the end have seen better days: one is rotted almost completely through at the bottom and the other hangs crookedly on its hinges, like it might give up its fight and finally collapse at any second.
And to the left, beside a young guy with dark red hair who must be Dominic, stands a table laid out with a variety of knives, tools, and even an old blow torch.
You said we’d use her to get his attention.
Oh. It all clicks. They plan to use me to hurt Austin.
Well, this should be fucking fun. Pete’s still smiling when I meet his gaze again.
“Let me guess, use me to get to Traeger?” I say, quirking a brow in a derisive way that tells him I think he’s an idiot. Pete crosses his arms over his chest, but clenches his jaw. I snort and shake my head. “Trade my life for his maybe? It’s a stupid fucking plan. We might be together, but he wouldn’t risk his life for me, you idiots.” I say the lie as smooth as butter, knowing how fucking wrong it is. He will burn this entire fucking world down to get to me. “You really think that he’ll…what, exactly? Give you Haven? Is that what you want?”
“I don’t give a shit about Haven,” Pete growls. He leans down and braces his hands on the armrests of the chair, getting right in my face. I don’t flinch away and a flash of surprise flits through his eyes. They’re such a dark brown that they look black, and there is an intense, cold hatred there. He blames Austin for something terrible, I know that much, though I have no idea what.
“I want him to suffer. I want him to die screaming while I fucking laugh.”
My nostrils flare and heat rises in my chest, that red haze threatening at the corner of my vision. No one threatens what’smine. Pete takes my reaction to mean fear, I guess, because he smirks and pushes himself away.
“And you’re going to help us with that. It’s nothing personal, Mel. He cares about you—as much as a monster like that can care about anyone, I guess—so, we’re going to have a little fun with you first to fuck with his head, and then when he comes to trade his life for yours, we’ll start the real party.”
“He won’t come, you prick,” I spit.
“Of course he will. He’s already on his way. Craig has him trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey for us and they’re headed here now. So, we better get started.”
He walks to the table and trails his fingers along the line of instruments. He picks up a boning knife, the blade long and thin, and twirls it in his hand.
“That’s going to go through your left eye before this is all said and done. Just a warning.”
Dominic looks spooked, eyes wide as he glances between me and the other two men, taking one small step backwards. I feel bad for the kid—it’s obvious he doesn’t really want to be a part of this, but he’s still here and not stepping in to stop it so…well, whatever happens, happens, I guess. He made his bed and now he’ll have to lie in it. Manny quirks a brow, not fear, but interest in his eyes, and Pete just laughs.
Pete turns from the table and walks back towards me, knife in hand.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
AUSTIN
