Page 97 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

I clench my eyes shut. Then, Phoenix’s voice rings out in my head:If you want things done your way, you will stay and watch them play out.

Slowly, agonizingly, I open my eyes.

A flap of bloodied skin hangs at Raj’s waist. The same patch of skin that was tattooed. The swan flutters with Raj’s writhing and screaming.

Nausea rises up to my throat, but I manage to bite it back just barely.

“Don’t whine, Raj,” Phoenix says coldly. “You could have prevented this.”

He reaches for Raj’s shirt on the floor and wipes the blade of his knife on it.

“Are you ready to talk to me?”

“Fuck you, motherfucker!”

I cringe at the words. Not because of Raj’s language—that particular quirk of innocence is long behind me now—but because I know what will happen if he continues to defy Phoenix.

“I’ve flayed men with this blade alone,” Phoenix tells Raj. “The skin comes off smoothly. Clean. So clean that you don’t even notice—at first. The pain comes seconds after I’ve sliced through. Humans need skin. Without it, you’re one raw nerve. Even a gentle breeze is pure agony. And the pain never ends.”

Raj is shivering badly now. It’s amazing how quickly the sweat has coated his entire body.

I feel my body start to shake, too. This is horrible. Worse than anything I could have imagined.

And I just want it to stop.

“Tell me who you’ve spoken with,” Phoenix hisses. “Give me names.”

Raj screams in response and raises his eyes to the ceiling as though he has no idea how to process the pain he’s in.

“It’ll only get worse the more skin I take,” Phoenix promises him. “Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

Screaming unintelligibly, Raj shakes his head violently, swinging on his hook as he struggles to deal with the pain. The chains creak. The walls echo with his wails.

“Alright then,” Phoenix says with a resigned sigh. “Let’s move on to the arms.”

I cry out, “No!”

Raj doesn’t even look like he’s heard me. But Phoenix’s head snaps to me instantly.

“Phoenix,” I whisper, shaking my head hopelessly. “Please… enough of this.”

His eyes glint as brightly as his blade does. He sheaths it, grabs my arm, and hauls me out of the room. He doesn’t close the door, but he pulls me to the side and presses me up against the wall.

“In case you forgot, you asked for this,” he growls, his face just inches from mine.

“I… I… told you we needed more information…”

“And how do you think men like me get information from men like him?” Phoenix demands. “You think we sit around in prayer circles singing kumbaya? You think we make pinky promises and blow flying kisses to one another?”

I cringe against his harsh eyes. “I… I…”

“You have no clue what it takes to survive in this fucking world,” he continues furiously. “You don’t understand the strength it takes, or the sacrifice. You think it’s a matter of walking into the Astra Tyrannis compound and bartering for Theo? They’ll sooner kill him than trade him.”

Tears threaten to fly loose, but I’m too lost in the intensity of his eyes. “Please, Phoenix,” I gasp. “There has to be another way. Please.”

His hand comes up and wraps around my throat. I’m surprised by how gentle he is.

“Please what?”

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