Page 63

“Neither do we,” the leader barks, nodding toward me. The guy with the knife slices my thigh again, faster this time, and I’m almost positive it didn’t hurt as badly.
Black spots dot my vision, the edges of the room turn fuzzy, and their figures start to swim in front of me. If I pass out right now, will they stop or will they keep torturing me? Maybe I can be asleep for most of it? That would be nice.
One of the guys holding my hands yanks my hair back, and my head snaps up.
Well, it was a nice thought, but it’s not going to happen.
“Help me,” Lance commands.
“Fuck. You.”
Bucket Guy lifts my shirt. He finds the now-bruised area where my ribs have been hurting and digs his finger in. The pain is so white-hot that I gasp, unable to scream. My eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of my head if they get any wider.
Eventually, he lets up, and I can’t help the whimper that leaks out.
Lance peeks around his team, eyes widening slightly when he sees me. “You know what you need to do, Dakota.”
“What I need to do is make sure bullies like you don’t win.”
“You’ll be no good to my son dead.”
“But I won’t have given in,” I reiterate, words slurring now even though my conviction is still strong.
“We’re going to have to take a break,” the leader informs Lance. “Torture is more effective when done in spurts.”
The two behind me let go of my hands, and I slump forward, only I don’t have the strength to keep myself from falling over. I drop all the way to the hard tile, my head bouncing against the cool ceramic.
I close my eyes, conjuring up a picture of Wyatt in his cowboy hat while he rode that beautiful horse. Of Lucas naked in bed with his hands behind his head. Of Stone smirking at me with that cocksure grin. These scenes are when my guys are the most confident. I wrap my fist around the images and squeeze, not wanting to let them go even though darkness threatens.
“I’ll give it to her, she’s strong,” one of them says.
Lance sniffs. “She’ll give in. They always do.”
“We’ll make sure of it,” the leader promises.
I smile to myself because they have no idea who they’re dealing with. They don’t know that it’s been ingrained since childhood that the treasure comes before all else.
This is where that belief is going to come in handy.
“Christ,” Lance snaps, gathering my attention again. A slight vibration sounds in the background. Even with my inexperience, I’m pretty sure it’s a cellphone. “It’s—” He cuts himself off, then answers while walking over to me. He kicks me, and I groan. “Hello, Stone.”
My eyes snap open, a choked sob escaping. He’s alive. God, he’s alive. “Stone!” I call out.
Lance hits me again, and my cry ends in a moan.
“Yes, I have her. I’ve been too busy to answer your phone calls, but I think I have a way you can be useful now.”
“Don’t say anything,” I cry out.
“Shut her up,” Lance snaps.
Mr. Blade Happy comes over to wrap his hand over my mouth. “Bite me and you won’t fucking like it.”
His hands are humongous. Even if I had enough strength to bite him, I’m not sure I could actually grasp on to anything so I just lie there in silence, listening to a one-sided conversation.
“No, we’re not going to give her back,” Lance murmurs as if he’s placating a dog. “Dakota, here, is going to help us.”
“No!” I try to scream but it comes out muffled. Mr. Blade Happy gives me areally?look.