Page 50 of Stolen Faith

Shit like this didn’t happen in real life. And it definitely didn’t happen to a guy like him.

Up until now, he’d taken his cues from Izabel and Rowan, using their confidence and bravery like a goddamn shield. As long as Izabel was there to talk their way out, as long as Rowan was there to put up a fight, they would be fine.

Brennon swallowed deeply, bile rising to his throat as he recalled those fucking bastards waterboarding her.

Torture.

Rowan said they were going to keep torturing them.

Brennon was no Jack Ryan, and while his threshold for pain had never truly been tested, he was ready to go out on a limb and say it was fucking low.

He kept working the ropes loose but…well…dammit, it hurt. His wrists were sliced to ribbons and throbbing like a mother. If he couldn’t even tolerate that pain, how the hell was he supposed to survive…

Torture.

“Take a deep breath, Brennon,” Rowan said. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Brennon drew air into his lungs, concentrating on his slow, deep breathing until he felt a bit more in control.

Of course, that control flew out the window the second he heard footsteps slamming on the porch.

They were back.

“Fuck.”

He wasn’t ready for this.

The door swung open. This time, it was only Tweedledee and Tweedledum. No Barry.

For a split second, he felt relieved about that.

Until the two men walked right over to him.

Shit. They knew he was the weak link. Knew he was the one most likely to cave to their questioning techniques.

Torture.

He’d listened to every word Rowan had said.

Just say name and rank, over and over.

Name and rank?

Brennon Reyes, screenwriter.

Brennon Reyes, middle son.

Brennon Reyes, makes a mean quesadilla.

Brennon Reyes…

Tweedledee reached down and roughly pulled him to his feet. Brennon tottered and nearly fell, unable to stand with his feet bound so tightly together.

“You try anything, and we’ll make sure you regret the day you were born,” Tweedledum warned as he bent over and untied the ropes around his ankles and unfastened him from the bolt in the floor.

Brennon glanced in Rowan’s direction, wondering if there was something he should do. Put up a fight? Go along with whatever they said? Run?

Rowan gave him a slight shake of the head.