Page 72 of Desecrated Saints
“Bit of warning next time you decide to coldcock me.”
I lift my chin in defiance. “You should’ve ducked quicker.”
Enzo chuckles, earning himself a sharp look from Theo. Hunter watches us all with steely attention, his chin resting on his laced fingers. I hate the way he’s studying us, picking apart our demeanours and filing all the information away for dissection. It’s unsettling.
The three men take their seats, maintaining a safe distance from us. I stare down at the smooth surface of the table, noting the two absences from our group. I’m almost too scared to ask, but make myself anyway.
“Where is he?”
With a throat clear, Kade seals my fate.
“Incendia is holding Phoenix hostage.”
“Is he okay?”
“They haven’t contacted us with a ransom yet,” Hunter answers crisply. “So, we don’t know.”
Willing myself to keep it together, my voice steadies. If I let the cracks show now, I’ll never piece myself together again. The neutral expression plastered on my face is flimsy at best.
“And Seven?”
“Out cold,” Enzo replies. “He was a bit agitated when he woke up and started damaging our property. Our on-call doctor gave him a muscle-relaxant and a small dose of a sedative.”
“I want to see for myself, right now.”
“You’ll answer our questions first.”
“Like hell. Take me to Seven.”
Slamming his hands down on the table, Hunter levels me with a stern look. “You have been a huge pain in our ass. We know who you are. We know what you’ve done. You’re in no position to make demands.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
With his laptop opened, Theo points a remote control at the wall. There’s a projector built into the ceiling, casting light on the spotless surface. My stomach twists as a CCTV feed is brought up, dated several months back. I recognise the bustling metropolitan street, surrounded by luxurious hotels.
“Please no,” I whimper.
The guys still around me as the feed shifts to a full view of a hotel’s foyer. It’s draped in glistening lights and crystal chandeliers, with countless armed guards. I watch my skeletal form get dragged down a grand staircase by Jefferson. My handcuffed hands are just visible.
“Where is this?” Kade growls.
“An investor’s event held by Incendia several months back,” Theo answers. “Here’s the main floor of the hotel. We’ve identified several members of senior management.”
Augustus and Seven come into view, seated at the bar and awaiting our arrival. The guys around me remain silent as the tape plays. On the screen, I’m shoved into a seat next to Seven, where I later palm a dinner knife. I can still remember Logan’s voice telling me to stop.
It’s weird to watch myself wrestle the knife away with my other hand, as if another person inhabited my body. I had no idea Logan wasn’t real. When Seven slips his hand under the table to stroke my bare leg, Hudson abruptly stands up.
“Hud—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Brooke. Not right now.”
Rejection pierces my chest. Hudson paces away and stands by the huge, floor-to-ceiling window for a moment. The tape is paused until he returns, now avoiding my gaze.
“Show them the rest,” Hunter instructs.
Just when I think it couldn’t get any worse, a grainier feed takes its place. This is tucked away at an odd angle. A hidden camera, then. I begin to shake as two figures enter the hotel bedroom. I don’t need to watch the rest.
My hands curl into fists under the table when Theo adds sound. Fucking thanks for that. The awful sound of my struggle reverberates around us. On the screen, Martin has ripped my dress and pinned me down, preparing to inflict his disgusting will.