Page 96 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“Yes, Phoenix,” Raj chimes in in a condescending tone. “What are you doing?”

“Calling your bluff,” Phoenix says. “Now, remove your clothes. I won’t ask again.”

Raj stands facing the both of us. For a moment, I think he’s going to defy Phoenix’s order. Then he shrugs and starts removing his clothes.

I back out towards the door, but Phoenix holds out a hand. “Stay,” he barks at me. “If you want things done your way, you will stay and watch them play out.”

I stop short.

Raj discards his shirt and then his pants. He’s scrawny and bony, a twig of a man. He’s wearing small grey boxers that sit low on his hips. He doesn’t hesitate as he pulls off his boxers and throws them to the side.

I’m trembling with nerves now, wondering how far Phoenix will take this in my presence. I’m close to begging him to stop.

“There,” Phoenix says.

I don’t know what Phoenix is talking about because I refuse to look. I doubt Raj would care if I did, but for my own sake, I refrain.

“What do you mean?” Raj asks innocently.

“The tattoo,” Phoenix replies. “The one at your hip.”

Unable to stop myself, my eyes flash to Raj. I see the tiny little black swan inked into his skin.

It’s an exact replica of the paperweight that I had used to attack Josiah the night of the rape.

My blood run colds as we’re faced with the irrefutable proof. Tension is rolling off Phoenix in waves and making me nervous. Something is going to happen.

And it’s not going to be good.

The second the thought flits through my consciousness, Phoenix reaches for a thin blade that he’s tucked away beneath his clothes.

Even from where I stand, a few feet away, I can tell it’s sharp. Razor sharp.

“Guards!” he calls.

Almost instantly, two men enter the room.

I’m squashed in the corner, feeling claustrophobia overtake me. But there’s no way out. I’m trapped here, for better or worse.

“Tie him up,” Phoenix orders his soldiers.

I didn’t even realize there was a hook on the ceiling until one of the guards reaches up and pulls it down. A thick rope is tied to the hook and then brought down towards Raj’s hands. His wrists are forced together and then he’s hoisted up by the rope that’s connected to the hook hanging from the ceiling.

Then the guards step out of the room, leaving Raj dangling by his wrists like a freshly caught fish. I desperately wish I could go with them. My stomach is churning with bile.

Phoenix steps forward playing with the knife between his fingers. “This is my favorite knife,” he tells Raj. “Do you know why?”

“I have a feeling you’re quite eager to inform me,” the man spits.

I’m not sure whether that’s fear I sense in his voice or if I’m just projecting. I try to keep my eyes averted, but at this point, I can’t. It’s like a train crash you can’t turn away from.

“I suppose you’re right,” Phoenix agrees. “Human flesh… well, that’s like cutting through butter. Tell me, Raj, have you ever been sliced like butter?”

Raj’s jaw tightens. “Do what you will. I will not speak.”

Phoenix shrugs. “Then be prepared for pain.”

The scream is caught in my throat as Phoenix raises his knife and slices across the skin just above Raj’s groin.

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