Page 39 of A Game of Survival

“What the fuck?” He whisper-shouts to us across the space but we both remain silent.

More banging continues until a loud and clear voice shouts through the door “FBI OPEN UP!”

“FBI?” I repeat out loud, more to myself than anybody else. Why the fuck are the FBI here? And who are they looking for?

Silas stalks forwards towards the door before calling over his shoulder to both Max and I, “Guns away.”

Max hesitates for a moment but we both submit and holster out guns as Silas slowly unlocks the front door.

“Gentlemen,” Silas greets the group of heavily armed men swarming the driveway but they take no time in rushing through the door.

“Max Costello. You’re under arrest for the murder of Vincent Holland. You have the right to remain silent.Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” A stocky man with a handlebar mustache and a black trench coat saunters through the door, carefully eyeing up Silas and then myself before his eyes land on something behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see Lucille in the doorway, her face ashen and worried at the scene before her. She just couldn’t listen to a simple instruction. The agent roams his eyes over the entirety of Lucille's body grunting approvingly as he does, causing her to step back before I put myself between them, narrowing my eyes in his direction. “Lets go” he shouts, cocking his eyebrow to me and turning to size up Silas.

Max stays silent through the whole ordeal, as he’s right to but I can’t pretend that I didn’t catch the subtle nod aimed at where Lucille is standing behind me and the unspoken words that pass between us as he hands his trust over to us that we will protect his family, no matter what happens. I dip my chin as he gets pulled away and notice as Silas does the same before looking over to Lucille. They have nothing on him, they’re just clutching at straws trying to pin this on whoever they can. How the fuck did they know he was here though? I guess we’ll just have to find out. It’s just another question to ask to be able to put the pieces of this puzzle back together again. If we all manage to survive this, it will be a fucking miracle.

Chapter 21

Cole

The repeating sound of water dripping through the room wakes me from the darkness. I feel a sharp pulsing in my head as I open my eyes to the bright light of a lamp hanging in the middle of the room. Rubbing my eyes, I remember how close I was to finding and rescuing Teddy, a devastation that weighs heavy in my heart. I failed yet again. After everything I have done, I still couldn't save him. My only hope is that Silas and Lincoln got to him in time and did what I could not.

I shake the ache from my bones as I’m finally able to stand to take in my surroundings. It's cold and damp down here, in what looks like a cellar. Steel bars keep me contained in a small part of the room, a cell. There’s an identical section next to me too, but that one is empty. I suppose they sometimes hold more than one prisoner down here. I grimace at the cell, grateful for the moment to be alone down here. I'm not great with people I know, let alone those I don’t

The walls and floor are cemented and dirty and there are no windows down here either, only a single door leading to the rest of the house. I assume I’m being held in one of Ronan’s torture houses. Great. Getting out of this one might prove difficult, even for me. I don't hold out much hope that Silas and Lincoln will come for me this time. They may come for Ronan though. Revenge is revenge and that's exactly what will drive them. I know the damage I’ve done, I can only hope they will let me make it up to them in the next life.

Hours seem to pass by until I hear raised voices above. I can’t make out what is being said but they don’t sound happy. I wonder if Silas and Lincoln got Teddy out, it’s the only thing that gives me hope.

As if they can my inner thoughts, the door to the cellar opens. The first through the door is a tall, muscly, dark skinned, bald man. He has a scar over his cheek and a look on his face that instantly lets me know that he’s here to deliver some punishment. Next through the door is the person who warned me what would happen if I got caught, Marcus. He narrows his eyes on me as he makes his way closer to my cell. I wonder if he’ll keep to his word. It doesn't matter if he does or not, I wouldn't trust him either way. The final person to enter this cesspit is none other than the coward himself, Ronan Costello. He smirks at me as he leisurely takes each step further in the room. He nods silently toward the bald guy and smirks.

“Finn, get our guest a seat would you? We have some talking to do.”

Finn, the muscle, heads back out of the room quickly returning with a chair with straps attached to it. A dark chuckle escapes me causing Marcus to narrow his eyes.

“Oh, would you look at that? We shop at the same store! Serial Killers R Us. I have that exact same model. Who would’ve guessed?” Marcus is glaring at me, threatening me to keep my mouth shut.

“Marcus, Finn, show our traitor to his seat.” Ronan orders.

Great, this is where they manhandle me into the seat. I know my chances of surviving this are better if I comply. My cell door swings open as they unlock it and I let Marcus and Finn strap me into the chair easily.

“No struggle, Cole?” Ronan scoffs at me. I ignore him. Once I am strapped in, I try not to meet Ronan's eyes, but I can see they’re full of glee and vengefulness. “So Cole, you thought you could infiltrate my gang, and take what is mine?” He bellows in my face, I feel the spit hit my cheek, how fucking disgusting. If they don’t end up killing me, I'll definitely need to get my shots.

“Not so close Ronan, please. I prefer not to share bodily fluids with you. Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘say it, don't spray it?’” I say with no hint of a smirk.

I turn my head toward Marcus. “Be a lamb Marc and wipe his spit off my face.” Marcus doesn't move, waiting on Ronans orders. He won’t tell him to do anything. Instead Ronan nods to Finn, who punches me in the ribs, expelling the air from my lungs. Stupid fuck! That’s going to leave a bruise!

“Fucking scum!” Finn mumbles as he moves away.

“So Cole, what should I do with you?” Ronan taunts.

“Let’s see, you could take your gun and shoot yourself, putting all of us out of this misery.” I snap back.

Ronan lunges at me, grabbing my worn out shirt just under my chin. Inches away from my face, he spits again. “Don’t joke around with me, you fucking cunt. You’re lucky I haven’t cut your treacherous tongue from your mouth for your insolence… Not yet anyway.”

I begin to laugh out loud, throwing my head back which only infuriates him more. My laughter is quickly snubbed by a piercing pain shooting through my leg. I grit my teeth as I swallow down the pain, glancing down to see the handle of a knife sticking out of my thigh. I flex my muscle, the sting is a welcome distraction to his foul breath I have to say. But the angle of the blade is sure to cause some nerve damage. My trousers immediately begin to absorb the blood seeping from the wound. Ronan leaves the knife in my leg for a few minutes before grabbing the handle and ripping it out with a salacious grin plastered on his face. I gasp too loudly at the pain it causes and he laughs a deep throaty cackle before walking away. “I had so many ideas of what I’d like to do with you, but there is one that really stuck with me. Would you like to know what it is?” he asks me. He doesn’t wait for my reply. “I think your brother deserves a little present after all of his patience with you. What do you reckon, Marcus? Shall we send them something to remember Cole by?” he asks smugly.

Marcus scoffs, “What do you have in mind, Boss?”

“I was thinking of taking a limb or two and having them delivered to the house. That whore stepdaughter of mine will definitely choose the other two over you when you are all fucked up and deformed.” he laughs.

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