Page 20 of Pocus
She snorts in disbelief. “You’d be torturing an innocent woman, but you don’t care, do you?”
I bark out an amused laugh. “You, ma petite, are far from innocent.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
Pocus
“Istill don’t think it was wise to bring her down here,” Graveyard says, shaking his head slowly. “What if Anderson gets wind of this?”
Graveyard had just returned from the hospital in town, where he’s spent the past three days, and hadn’t stopped expressing his disagreement with my plan.
“It’s been three days, but there’s been no movement from him,” Seer says in my support. “I know because I sent Gris over to sniff the ground at The Anderson Groups, and he said nothing seems out of place. He even said he caught a glimpse of Anderson going into the company, and he had another woman behind him, holding his briefcase. He looked nothing like someone whose assistant hadn’t shown up at work in two days.”
“Two days…,” Graveyard repeats incredulously and shakes his head. “That’s…that’s too long. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“You worry too much, doc,” I say to Graveyard. “Anderson can’t imagine we’re onto him, at least for a while. We don’t have much time. We need dirt on him if we’re going to prevent his union with Evanesce. Snake hasn’t made any progress with breaking into his company’s firewall, and I doubt he’d find anything anyway.”
“Why don’t we talk to the guys in Vegas?” Graveyard asks. “Maybe they can help?”
“This is our turf, okay?” I say, pinning the doctor with a firm gaze. “It’s our problem, and we should at least exhaust all possible options first before calling in for help.”
“This Miller woman…,” Graveyard says slowly. “Are you sure she knows something?”
“Oh, she knows plenty,” I say, letting my mouth pull up in a mirthless smirk. “And I will find out everything I need to know.”
* * *
Abby
Istruggle relentlessly against the binds, but my efforts prove as useless as the burning anger in my chest. How dare he tie me to a chair? That smug bastard! How dare he treat me like a worthless piece of trash! I glare at him, hoping he feels my disdain's full blast – and maybe chokes on it. He holds my glare with equal intensity, his lips pulled up in a lazy smirk.
“Do you have your memories back, mademoiselle?” he asks.
It’s funny how pleasant his voice is at this particular moment, despite the animosity I feel toward him. It must be his Cajun accent…and the way he uses French endearments.Get your head on straight, Abigail!
“You must think that by tying me to a chair, you’re good to get the best of me,” I say in the coldest tone I can manage. “I dare you to do your worst. Torture?” I scoff loudly. “Well…it can’t get any worse than the life I live. I’ve known torture. I’m not scared of you, creep!”
An indecipherable emotion crosses his blazing green eyes, but I don’t care to interpret his expressions. I’m on a roll. “Whip me, but you can never break me, mister. I’d never….”
“What?” he scoffs, actually looking surprised. “I’d never inflict pain on you.”
I feel an unexpected rush of relief at his words. I acted brave, but my stomach was churning so bad at the thought of physical pain that I thought I would throw up at any minute. But he was scowling at me, like the thought of him hurting me actually offended him.
I shake my head at him in confusion. “But…but you tied me to a chair and…well, you’re asking me the same strange questions as the last time.”
“Strange questions?” he repeats with that infuriating look he gets whenever I don’t answer his bizarre questions. “You’re still going to play dumb.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply frigidly. “And none of these stunts you’re pulling will make any difference.”
“Of course they will, chérie,” he replies with a devilish smile. “I plan to help you regain your lost memories, honey. Starting from the very beginning.”
“What are you…,” I gasp and snap my eyes shut when he suddenly lowers his fly. “Oh my God! What are you doing?”
“It’s not something you haven’t seen before, ma chérie,” he says dryly. “You watched me touch myself back at the Den.”
“What Den?” I ask, keeping my eyes tightly shut. My voice sounds annoyingly shrill, but I guess I can’t help that. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He chuckles dryly. “Keep your eyes closed, honey. I’ll walk you through our first encounter. The room is large…more than double this size. There are red draperies and lots of naked bodies…you had on a flamboyant floral mask, and your lips were painted blood red.”