Page 152 of Pawn's in the Bishop's Game (Checkmate 1)

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Jess

Inferno

“How long do we think it’ll take to get him here?”

Taunting, Abel slides the tip of his icy cold gun along my belly button. Trapped, I stand in front of a support beam in the center of his club with my hands tied behind the beam, and my sister mirroring me on the next one along. My heart races. I work hard to ignore the greasy haired man in front of me. I clamp my lips shut and still my shaking body, and instead of breaking down and begging to be released, I study the boxing ring Kane took a beating in just a week ago.

I can’t break.

I’ve been through worse.

I won’t break.

Laine’s hair covers her face, and tears drip off the tip of her nose as she watches her feet. Abel doesn’t know that I’m Jess. He doesn’t know that she’s Laine. He simply came across two identical women in the police station, and since Riley shielded us both and neither of us admitted who was who, Abel and McDouche took us both.

He stands in front of me now with his gun on my belly and makes assumptions based off the anger glittering in my eyes, compared to the complete lack of giving a shit in hers.

Mimicking her while I think of a better plan, I drop my eyes and let my hair cover my face.

“Not playing?” Laughing, he digs the barrel into my stomach. “No?” He moves toward Laine and repeats the process. “You, then? One of you is a club whore. The other belongs to Bishop. I swear to God, I thought you were one and the same!” He throws his head back and laughs. “I thought you were ballsy as fuck. In here on weekends to whore, weekdays to be with Bishop. And I thought he was clueless.” Walking to me, he folds lower to catch my eyes. “I wouldn’t have ordered that last party if I knew you were two different bitches. Does it hurt getting ass fucked? Does it hurt your soul when you say no, but they do it anyway?”

It hurts my soul that he thinks I’m Laine.

That he did that to her.

I summon every last ounce of strength I possess, every lick of rage that fires through my body for my abused sister and meet his eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.” I take a leaf out of Jules’ playbook and whisper, rather than shout. “I’ll gut you, Hayes, then I’ll shove dirty coke up your ass until you choke on your tongue and die all alone in a shitty apartment. And when you say no, when you cry that you don’t want it anymore, I’ll do it again. And again.” I don’t take my eyes off his. “And again. And again.”

His gun digs into my stomach so hard, I swear I feel it on my spine. “That makes you Bishop’s. You wouldn’t know about the coke if you were the whore.”

I nod. “I’m Bishop’s. Bishop is mine. And you’re gonna die today.”

Scoffing, he turns away and nods to the two men standing sentry halfway across the room. One of them is the Fed that swore his alliance to Alex and Jules. He watches me closely and knows I recognize him.

And he smiles.

Abel waves a jewel covered hand. “It’s time.”

Immediately, the two men break away and come back with cans of gasoline. My bravery flees the instant they begin tipping them everywhere. The thought of dying in a fire, of being tied to this beam while flames rage around us, and to be able to do nothing while the skin melts from my bones as I watch my sister and her own pain, leaves me with tears streaming over my previously brave face.

Come back, Kane. Come back and save me one more time.

A man I’ve never seen before – I don’t recognize his eyes or the crooked grin on his face – steps up with a half empty can of gas and a silver lighter. “You’re prettier in person than on the internet.”

“Fuck you!” I kick out with my feet and knock the lighter from his hands, but he doesn’t back up.

Instead, he leans in and bites my lip until blood floods my mouth. “I wish I got to fuck you before you died. Everyone else got a go, but I was always in the warehouse.” He looks over to Laine, who wildly fights her restraints. “We’ve had bets on the blonde for months. But we had no fuckin’ clue there were two of you. The opportunities are endless.”

“Let me go.” I work my wrists behind the beam until the rope burns and blood dribbles off my fingertips. “Let us go and I’ll fuck you. We both will.”

He chuckles. Fussing with the cap on his gas can, he shakes his head and starts pouring the odorous liquid onto my jeans. “Nah. I’d rather find a different blonde, ‘cause if I let you go, my boss will shoot me in the head. Then I don’t get to fuck anybody.”

Screaming, I use the beam behind me to lift my feet, practically levitating myself off the concrete, and kick out at his chest and face. Despite landing hit after hit, he ignores me and continues pouring the gasoline until my sneakers fill. Like I’m already on fire, my skin burns. My heart hammers in my chest and my arms blaze from rope burn. Tears blind me, but when he turns to Laine, the reality becomes so much worse.

She kicks against him the way I did, but she’s been to half the self-defense classes I have.

I suck. Which means she has no chance.

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