Page 20 of When Sinners Fear

And I still don’t know why I’m here or what the hell is going to happen while I’m here.

Peyton’s still muttering about something, and other than that it’s still an empty room and nothing to tell me anything other than that. I glare at her, mainly because there’s nothing else to glare at. “Give it a goddamn rest, Peyton.”

Her eyes snap up to me for a brief second or two before they’re back to looking at the same spot in the room she was looking at. I can’t think with all that noise coming from her, and I sure as hell can’t process shit if she’s constantly interrupting my thoughts with inane bullshit.

“Get over here.” No movement. I take a breath, attempting to calm my tone. “Peyton. Look at me.” Her eyes come to mine again, slow and easy this time. “Come here. Now. Move your ass.” I reach through the bars, offering my hand. “Let me take that off.” She looks at the hand, then me, then the hand again. “You’ll be able to talk then.” Fucking women. I don’t have time nor goddamn interest, but this noise from her is maddening and incessant. “Come on, baby. Be good for me. It's just a few steps.”

She takes a step closer, and closer still, until I finally get my fingers to the tape. “Stay quiet. Don’t scream. Don’t say anything until I tell you to.” I rip at it, hard and fast, and watch her eyes widen and the shock of pain register on her face. Her whole body shakes through the feeling as if that was the first time she’s ever felt true discomfort. “You’re fine. Stop muttering now. Let me think.”

She just stares at me.

“Poe. Or maybe it's Knox now we’re acquainted.” I scowl and turn towards the sound of an English accent, knowing exactly who it belongs to.

“Reed.” Fury rages deep down inside immediately, rendering my semi-calm demeanour screwed.

He keeps walking towards me until we’re face to face with only these bars separating us. My arm rushes through on automatic, ready to kill him for what he did to Elias. I catch hold of him, too, enough to drag him a few feet forward. We’re eye to eye, with me damning these bars to hell for being in my way, but he’s got the advantage here and he knows it. The laugh tells me that, as does the fact that I can’t hold onto him as he backs away.

Cunt.

CHAPTER EIGHT

PEYTON

Iwatch the man back away from the cage, and Knox’s hands lose their grip on his shirt. Reed, Knox called him, has an arrogant smile on his face, which makes my stomach turn. It’s a knowing smile like he has the outcome of all of this all worked out, and that fills me with a dread that’s scary.

I retreat into the corner of the cage and keep my mouth shut. My lips are still numb from where the tape was ripped away, and in a strange way, it was nice to feel something other than shock and panic.

It was the first moment since this started that Knox had paid me any attention or even acknowledged that I’m in this with him. Until now, he’s seemed so calm about the situation, and I’m not sure if he really means that I’m nobody to him or if he’s saying that for a reason.

We don’t know each other well, and that’s evidenced loud and clear by the way he’s been acting so far, but a part of me would prefer he wasn’t so distant – like we are in this together. I’m here. With him.

This is the type of completely out-of-a-nightmare situation that my friend used to watch on true crime documentaries. I thought they were more fiction than anything, but now I’m surrounded by inch-thick, solid steel bars with no obvious way of escape or rescue.

My mind starts to spin, and I run over the procedure for testing the tensile strength of steel bars, analysing the hypothesis and what varying factors to consider.

“You were arrogant when you came to my club. And that’s been your biggest downfall. The arrogance of you all,” the one called Reed spits at Knox. I try to keep my mind away from what’s happening, but I’m desperate for information, too. So I listen again.

“You killed our brother. What did you expect? You also took our fucking money and our property. You don’t cross us. Nobody ever crosses us. We’d made that clear.”

Who is us? And who was the other guy who was talking with Knox before? Logan and Cane. Two names that mean nothing to me, but clearly Knox knew him. He knows both of these men, so at least the question as to who this is about is answered.

And why was the other man talking about a priest? Is Father Michael involved? He knows Knox, so does that mean he’s in danger?

My head runs through all the questions and all the scenarios, but I keep falling into more questions or more unknowns. Too many unanswered parts to develop a solution fully, like an equation that won’t balance.

All except for one. This wasn’t random. This has a cause, and it’s Knox.

“Maybe I thought you needed to be taught a lesson,” Reed goads. “Maybe what I wanted was worth the risk.”

“That girl was worth all this?” Knox asks.

“She has a name!” Reed rushes forward at the cage and shakes the bars at Knox. I stare and watch as Knox just stands there, unflinching.

The urge to ask questions, to ask – no beg – this man to let me out is on the tip of my tongue, but Knox said not to talk, and while he’s been less than helpful, he’s the only thing I know right now, even if that’s not a lot to say. He’s shown no real harm towards me, unlike the men in the van or those holding me here.

“Naja. I know her name. Is this still about her?”

“You took something of mine. Now I’ve taken you. I say we’re even.”

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