Page 23 of When Sinners Fear
“What?”
“I’m done.”
I move for the bolts I was looking at, immediately kicking violently to try dislodging them. The cage shakes, but it doesn’t budge other than that. I try hauling at the base, hoping to lift it free. Nothing there, either. Next, I’m on to the hinges on the gate, searching for any weakness. No luck, so I try climbing the bars to get to the top bars to test them. Nothing. “FUCK!”
I pace round and round, heaving in what breath I’ve got to get some fucking oxygen into my brain. All this goddamn sense must be worth something, and yet after more fucking pacing, I’m left with nothing but four asshole walls of steel and no way out.
“You should stop,” she murmurs. I glare at her as she looks into the room, ready to slap her for daring to speak. “Glycogen reserves only last around one hundred minutes in peak form. You’ll burn through them. Especially with the repair work your body will be doing.”
“Do you ever fucking stop speaking? Enough.” She stops, instantly, and turns her body so she’s looking at the wall on the other side of her. Good. I can’t handle that kind of crap at the moment.
I go back to the bars and rattle them some more. Not because they’ll move, but because impatience is getting the better of me and sheer fucking insanity is starting to bed in. “REED!” hollers out of me. “GET YOUR FUCKING ASS IN HERE. NOW!” I scowl at the door and start pacing again, ready to beat on something if I can’t see a way out. I’ll fucking kill him, or I’ll die trying, but the one thing I’m not doing is sitting here waiting for whatever he decides to do with me. “You’re a fucking pussy, Reed. You hear me? A mothafucking weak ass pussy.”
The door in the corner opens within a few minutes, and I keep pacing to show him that I’m far from fucking done at the moment. I might be battered and bruised, but if I get half a chance at him, he won’t live to see his next goddamn breath.
“You should listen to her, Knox. Reserve some energy,” he says as he approaches. Fuck, there’s surveillance in here somewhere. I glance around, searching for it, but it’s too dark in the corners to see anything. I don’t answer either. I look him dead on and try drawing him closer with that. “How does it feel behind those bars?” He smiles, a nasty ass fucking smile, and sits on one of the chairs. “Must be confusing for you. That’s how those girls felt in London. It’s how Naja felt. Scared. Alone.” I sneer and watch the door open behind him again. Four guys walk in, two of them carrying a box that looks just like Dante’s. I frown and take a step backwards, refusing to look at Peyton. “It’s time you really felt that. Or maybe your girl should.”
My frown grows deeper as he gets up and walks over to her. He crouches to get in her eyeline. “Hello, Peyton. It’s a shame you got caught up in this.” She doesn’t answer him either. She just stares from the back of her cage and hugs her knees. “Pretty girl like you. Can you dance?” I doubt it. Too prim for dancing. “You’re scared. I get that, but you’re here because of him, because of what he does. All those manners and brains you think you know, they’re bullshit. Do you think he should pay?” She looks at the floor. “Answer me.”
“I’ll fucking answer you. Get your ass over here so I can deal with you.”
He looks up from his crouch and stands, backing himself into the room by the box. “She means something to you. That’s useful.”
“She means shit to me. Do what you want with the bitch.” I pace and watch him lift the top off the box. The sight of a red hue proves my instincts right. “I just want to kill you. You’ll fucking hate it when it happens, Reed. It’ll be slow and fucking painful.” The smell of heat, ash and burning fills the room, and I keep watching as he sticks a long rake of iron into the centre of the glow.
For once in my life, my insides start screwing up about right and wrong. I don’t spare one glance at Peyton, though. Not one. Her meaning anything to me gets her nowhere but more trouble. Whatever she’s already gonna get will be bad enough.
Nothing’s said for a while longer. Peyton starts her muttering again, and no matter how much I’m thinking about offering money as a way out of this, I don’t. He’s not interested in it, anyway. This is revenge mode and nothing else. I’m going to pay for Mariana taking Naja from him. That takes me straight back to how pissed Abel was that she’d done it behind his back, and finally all the connections start dawning on me. He fucking knew, didn’t he? He knew this kinda shit might come for us if he didn’t play the game right.
Backstepping some more, I hit the wall and crouch, chastising myself for constantly challenging him. Why didn’t he just speak to me – tell me? I could have been prepared then, been more vigilant. Instead, I’m here and waiting with no backup.
“You first then. Your little bitch can watch.”
Three guys come in close to the cell around me, one eases the gate quietly, carefully, while another one goes into Peyton’s cage. He grabs her harshly and drags her up from the floor, wrapping his arm around her neck and holding a blade up for me to see. She squeals and tries fussing him off her. Not going to happen with the size of him.
“We both know you could fight your way out of this, Knox. Don’t,” Reed says. He laughs, dark and low. “You’re going to take this like a good little boy and let me have my revenge.” A growl comes out of me, guttural and pissed as hell. “That right there is how I felt when I went home and Naja was gone.” He grabs the end of the iron with a cloth and pulls it out. “Put him over there in the chains.”
Hands reach for me, and I’m caught between fighting for my life and protecting something too innocent for the world I’ve drawn her into. My conscience rages with itself. Enough so that I hit out at two of them, sending one crashing towards the bars.
“Careful, Knox,” Reed says, laughing. I look sideways at Peyton as she’s hauled backwards and the blade’s raised to her throat. “I’d rather not kill a woman for you, but make no mistake, I will if I need to.” It’s an internal battle of seconds that’s barely won on the side of honest behaviour, but it does win somehow. It also makes me look at her again and glare, watching the way the guy who’s holding her smiles at my misfortune and then licks the side of her face.
She’s just standing there as I’m dragged out, frozen, like she’s barely here other than physically. Shackles clamp around my wrists, and two short lengths of chain hold me fast to the wall. One of the assholes pulls my shoes and pants from me, so I’m left with only my shorts and nothing else.
Reed comes closer with the damn rod held out, mocking me with his laughter and slow steps. My eyes close instantly. I know what’s coming and fuck him if he thinks he’s getting one ounce of fear out of me because of it.
Pain flares through my calf first. My jaw grits at the singe of it, and I stare at the wall for however long it's on my skin. Feels like ten fucking hours, but the rod’s off my skin before real pain sets in. Reed comes in closer and leans on the wall near me, goading me with his smile and his power here. I’m sideways into him before he’s got a sanctimonious word out, knee and foot hooking his to bring him down regardless of my chains.
He flounders and scrabbles for upright, and the iron rake skids sideways across the floor. He’s lucky I didn’t get my goddamn teeth to his face. Would’ve ripped half of it off his head.
None of it helps me. In fact, it probably fucking whips him on because he stokes the coals with the tip of the rod and comes back at me. The red, ice-hot fire beds in longer on my skin this time. The pain that crashes over me is damn near unbearable. Thigh, shoulder, stomach, arms. I keep the damn howls of pain in at first, refusing to let him hear or see any weakness, but after a while it is excruciating. My legs buckle, and the chains keep me hung under my own weight, twisting and turning. The rough stone of the wall grates on the open sores, sending more pain flaring through every place he’s already burnt me.
I howl and shout out, physically unable to stop the sounds. “Enough,” mutters out of me.
It doesn’t stop him. He laughs and keeps going, enjoying my torment. “This is nothing compared to what’s coming, Knox.”
“KNOX! STOP IT! Leave him alone!” I swallow at the sound of Peyton’s voice screaming and look towards her. She’s still held fast by that guy. Even he’s laughing at me as Reed pushes the iron onto my stomach. For once in my life, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about any of it. I’m unable to buckle over and avoid it, nor am I able to find enough energy to fight these damn chains. I’ve never felt agony like it. It’s everywhere all at once, and tears are welling behind my eyes. Pain, exhaustion, sheer fucking frustration and fear. Can’t remember the last time I cried. I blink them back and keep gritting my teeth. It’s all I’ve got, and I’m not begging for anyone no matter what they do to me.
Fuck knows how long it carries on for. I’m in a world of sensation and hurt. A fog comes with it, one I’ve never felt before. I’m just hanging like a fucking puppet being taunted and played with. More pain, more fresh skin burnt and cut into. Saliva pools in my mouth as I curl into the wall, and a sickness rises inside me to the point where I gag and retch for some relief. There is no relief, though. I’m in this until he decides to stop it.