Page 26 of When Sinners Fear

“You’re feistier than you look. Mike will have fun with you, I’m sure.” He leads me by the hair past Knox’s cage. I look at him, pleading for him to notice or look up at me – make eye contact, but there’s nothing. No response, no rage, no words.

The realisation that I’m in this on my own spreads like a black mist through my limbs, clinging to every part of me and chilling me to the bone.

Reed dumps me at the chains where they tortured Knox, and before I have a moment to stand, Mike has my wrist wrapped in the steel of the chains. With my free hand, I claw at the metal and pull against my wrist, trying to pull the cuff off, but it’s no good.

“Knox!” I cry out, unable to help myself. My eyes look around for the box they brought in for him, but there’s nothing else. The third man is still standing toward the back of the room, like a soldier guarding the exit.

I pull on the chain, but all it does is rattle and clang in my ears. Mike fights to secure my other arm, but not before I attempt to backhand him across the face. It only stops him for a moment and doesn’t cause any real damage given the slight turn of his head. It stops me for a moment as I wonder if provoking the man who’s tying me up is my best idea. Reed sneers at me, maybe amused at my attempt to fight back, but I made a promise to myself.

Mike captures my second wrist and repeats the process, tethering me in place. With both arms now in chains, I tug on them, testing the range of motion.

Dread, a feeling I don’t think I’ve ever truly experienced before, sweeps over me, zapping my energy and strength and renders me more fearful than ever. The men in the room morph as my eyes fill with tears, panic-filled tears, about what might happen next.

Will it be a hot rod burnt into my skin, or will it be a new kind of torture that sets my heart racing and bile churning in my stomach? I glance over to Knox, looking for any sign of support or sympathy, anything. But he looks as out of it and uninterested as he was at the start.

“Now, let’s start.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KNOX

Even though I hurt like a bitch, I can feel jealousy rearing its head inside me. I won’t show it because that’s not going to help her out one bit. Not that anything’s going to help her. She’s in the middle of whatever they’re going to do to her and there’s no getting out of it. A bit like this cage. Whole damn scenario is full of nothing but dead ends and locked doors.

I lean my head back and listen to the sounds of her screaming and fighting, keeping my eyes fixed on the back end of the room. Whatever they do to her, I’m not part of it. For once, this is nothing to do with me. It wasn’t me that caged her, and it isn’t me that’s about to rape or abuse her.

“Knox … Oh God, please, no,” she shouts. The sound of tearing clothes comes next, followed by scuffling feet and another cry for help from her lips. Doesn’t matter to me other than some element of low-lying jealousy, so my gaze remains fixed on the wall showing my disinterest. “No. No. No. Get off me!” She should keep her mouth shut. I know better than most men how that cry for help or plea for mercy makes it all the more interesting. Quiet is dull. Noiseless, complacent and placid makes for a very dull fuck indeed.

“Fucking bitch spat at me!” dick one shouts.

The heavy sound of a slap ringing true on skin makes me side-eye the behaviour. Her face ricochets sideways into the wall, and she instantly looks dazed and defeated. Good, maybe now she’ll stay quiet and deal with the inevitable. That’s the only way this becomes less painful for her. I can’t stop my eyes drifting over her exposed body for a few seconds. Just panties get in my way. Lemon coloured. Cute.

Whole damn look is exquisite as hell, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.

A stressed, low chuckle rattles through me at the sight of dick number one ripping at his belt, and I look back at the wall again. Whatever innocence I was after from her is about to be tarnished and broken, and whatever might have been between us – no matter it’s fucked up nature – is done.

Mumbling and muttering starts up from her lips, like she’s gonna try chanting her way through it. Might work, I guess.

“Stop,” Reed says. She doesn’t.

“The hell?” dick one says.

“Don’t touch her. Wait.” Reed’s in my eyeline suddenly, crouching so he can get right in front of me. I stare, disinterested in anything other than killing the cunt the moment I get a chance. Jealousy disperses, and fury starts building at the sight of him laughing at me in here. “She really means nothing to you?” I don’t answer. There’s no conversation between us as far as I’m concerned. There’s only death and visions of his goddamn head leaving the rest of his body. Slowly. “You won’t mind beating her then. Get up.” I don’t. He sighs and looks back at Peyton. “Does she really need to die here?” I keep staring. Unemotional about that potential. Might even be better for her in the long run. “You really are a bunch of cold-hearted wankers, aren’t you?” Yeah.

A slow shunt of breath rattles through me again, and I keep fixed on the wall as he stands and goes over towards the show. Chains clank and clang against each other, and I listen to her pained groan about something. “She will die, Knox. Right here and now if you don’t come and entertain me. I know she means something to you. Men like you don’t go out with women in public.”

“Oh God no, please no!” Peyton shouts. “Knox. Please?” Please what? Get out there and beat her for his amusement? Not gonna happen. “Knox! He has a gun! Please!”

I look over and note the rim of metal pressed against her head, the tears pouring from her eyes. She’s crunched up against the wall, hands splayed on the brickwork and her knees holding her up. It takes everything in me not to show any attention at all, because I’m damn sure I am interested in reality. Fucking invested actually. She’s a picture of pretty fear and nerves, and whilst I’m not playing this game for him, there’s no denying part of my dick just woke up.

Still, my skin is on fire. My kidneys are screwed. And my ribs ache with every breath pulled in. I’m in no position to defend her even if I wanted to.

I turn away to focus on the wall again, but the instant sound of gunshot shocks me enough to look back instantly. She’s still breathing, alive and as well as can be expected, but that shot just proved he meant what he said. “Get up, Knox. The next shot won’t miss, and I’ll concentrate on you instead. You will beat her, and you will do whatever the fuck I want you to do to her.” Sneering, I focus on her eyes for a minute, watching her fear through the stream of tears. “You’re going to do everything to her that you do to the rest of them. And you’re going to mean it, too.” She’s mouthing something at me. Please, maybe. Begging? For me to beat her? Interesting fucking option. I guess she thinks that’s better than death. “Get up.”

“Please Knox,” she stutters. “I don’t want to die.” Yeah, her and me both.

“You hear that? She needs you,” Reed says, laughing.

The other dicks laugh, too, which makes me stay focused on her so I can think. Her lips are wavering, teeth grinding. She shifts and swallows, attempting to harden her face and nod at me. She nods again, and again, blinking back each tear with every next nod.

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