Page 32

Chapter 32

Cate

I tried resisting when Jay pulled me onto his lap, but I had neither the physical or mental energy to argue. Besides, his warm lap was a lot more comfortable than the cold concrete floor.

Initially, I was annoyed when he asked to play twenty questions, but because of the game we’d gotten to know, and understand, each other. And maybe even become friends.

Roman will use that against us .

Jay singing softly with his beautiful deep voice lulled me to sleep for the second time. But it wasn’t restful.

When I awoke with a start, the first thought I had was that I didn’t want to die without apologizing to Jay for punching him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, no.” I yawned. “I’m sorry I punched you.” My whole body felt stiff and sore. Even my hair hurt .

He laughed. “Forgiven. I’m curious though, what specifically set you off?”

“Gavin told everyone I liked being called Catie Cat and that I liked to scratch. He and his friends thought it’d be funny to make sure everyone knew it.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Yes, he is.”

“I’m sorry I called you that.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.” It seemed like it been a long time since the strobe or alarm had tortured us, though I wasn’t sure just how long.

“How long has it been quiet?” I asked.

“Longer than usual, but other than that I don’t have an answer.”

Jay helped me up and we walked around the cage to loosen our sore, stiff limbs. It had to be worse for him, because he’d used his body to keep me off the cold floor.

We’d finally started talking to each other like friends instead of enemies. No doubt our tenuous friendship was built on the fact neither of us thought we’d make it out alive.

As we walked, we continued our game of twenty questions, though we’d passed that number long ago. We asked each other about the good memories from our childhoods and our accomplishments. Keeping it light, and not lingering too long on any one subject.

When we got tired, we sat back down on the cold, hard concrete, with our back against the cold, hard wall.

Time dragged on and we eventually fell silent—too cold, hungry, and tired to keep talking. It seemed to me we’d been left alone in the dark and silence for hours, and that scared me.

It’s always calmest before the storm .

When the foghorn next sounded, Jay had to help me stand. The physical abuse combined with the lack of food was making me weaker by the hour. Sitting for too long in the cold wasn’t helping either.

“Happy Saturday my caged birds. It’s time for you to sing.” Roman’s cheerful voice sent chills down my spine.

Had he heard Jay singing to me? Or did he have a plan to make us talk?

“Happy suck-my-dick-Saturday, Dick,” Jay said, spitting out the name.

Two thoughts slammed through my head at the same time, making it hard to think.

What the fuck was he thinking, talking to Roman like that? He’d get himself killed.

And Saturday? I thought it was still Friday. Holy shit, we’ve been here more than three days . Damn it was hard to keep track of time without any change of light.

“I thought we’d moved past that, Son.” Roman’s voice dripped with sarcasm. I couldn’t see his face because the only light in the basement was behind him, casting him in a creepy silhouette.

Dramatic much?

Jay stepped forward, looking every bit like he wanted to challenge Roman. He hadn’t taken two steps before rifles lifted to shoulders and muzzles pointed at our heads .

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Roman said. Though it wasn’t necessary; Jay had stopped the instant the rifles moved. “Now go stand in the corner like a good boy while we cuff your girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? Fuck . This was going to get so much worse now that he thought he could use us against each other.

Jay clenched his fists and back teeth, growling as he walked to the far corner. After cuffing me, they took me upstairs and tied me to one of the two chairs in front of Roman’s desk.

Two chairs?

I could feel Franks and Roman staring at me while I stared at the empty chair.

“Bring Sheppard up,” Roman said, bringing my attention fully back to him.

He’ll use me to make Jay talk. Not that there was much to share. Most of what we knew came from Roman himself, everything before that was speculation.

Jay stayed quiet while they escorted him in and tied him to his chair. They took the extra measure of wrapping a thick rope across his chest, making sure he couldn’t move more than an inch off the back.

When we made eye contact, I pleaded with him to stay strong. How do you tell someone, “I can take it,” with only your eyes? I didn’t know, but I tried to relay the message anyway.

They started slow. Slapping me anytime either of us didn’t answer Roman questions about his nephew or Blake.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Jay growled .

“We don’t have to pick on anyone.” Roman smirked. “Answer my questions, and it’ll all stop.”

I yelled, “Don’t you dare!”

The resulting slap caused more blood to coat my tongue as my lip split again. I spat on the floor in defiance.

“We can’t tell you anything you don’t already know,” Jay said, playing nice.

“That remains to be seen,” Roman said before walking behind me and yanking my hair to force my head back. “It’s a shame we have to damage such a pretty face.”

Have to? They’d already made it puffy, black and blue.

I pulled against him, but he yanked harder causing me to grunt in pain.

“How much do you do you think she can take?” Roman asked.

Roman’s question scared me, but it was nothing compared to the overwhelming fear induced from hearing Franks laugh at the question. I broke eye contact with Roman and looked at Franks.

My head throbbed from having a fistful of hair almost yanked out, but I forgot all about the pain when I saw the sadistic glee on Franks’s face. I broke out in a cold sweat and couldn’t stop my hands from trembling.

“I don’t know, but I’ll bet fifty he breaks before she does,” Franks answered.

“Make it a hundred, and I’ll take it,” Roman said.

They ignored Jay when he asked if he could get in on the bet. I prayed that was his way of telling me he’d stay strong, no matter how bad it got .

Every time Jay refused to answer a question they hit me. Blood spilled from my lips and my left eye was swollen shut. The backhands weren’t as strong as the punches, so my right eye wasn’t as swollen, but my cheek was torn to shreds from the rings on Franks’s fingers. And his punches to my gut winded me every time.

Jay’s resolve waned as Franks hit me harder and harder.

“How do I get to Blake?” Roman asked again. I didn’t understand his tunnel-vision focus on getting money from Blake. He didn’t need it, and he had to realize it wasn’t worth the risk.

“You keep asking the same question, and I keep giving you the same answer. Are you hard of hearing, or just stupid?”

Jay let out a pained oof when a nameless goon kicked him in the ribs hard enough to tip his chair back. Luckily, a different nameless goon caught him and set the chair back on all four legs because there was nothing Jay could’ve done to prevent his head from slamming on the floor.

More questions. More non-answers. More hits.

They hurt like hell and I was pretty sure Franks had broken, or at least cracked, one of my ribs by the time he stopped.

At least they didn’t use the cattle prod . Small favors.

Roman ordered his men to take us downstairs after getting a text message. Whatever it said was bad news, because his face turned red and he looked like he was about to explode.

We’d managed to hold out. This time .

They brought me down first. When the guy holding me up let go, I crumpled into a heap. Using nothing but determination, I sat up. I didn’t want Jay to worry any more than he already was.

After they locked the cage door, they threw in two bags. Food and water.

Jay picked up the bags and handed them to me before gently picking me up and carrying me to the back. He used a little of the water to wet a strip of his t-shirt and carefully washed my face.

I tried not to wince, but it was impossible. My face now knew what a punching bag felt like.

When Jay handed me water, I ignored the copper taste mixing in and drank it. When he gave me a cookie, I ignored the pain caused by chewing and ate it. Raisins and all.

The salt made it hurt too much to eat the chips, so Jay gave me his cookie and ate my chips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he rubbed my back. “You’re so fucking strong and I know you can take it, but I still wish there was something I could do.”

I wanted to smile at the compliment and the sentiment, but my lips were too swollen. He wouldn’t see it anyway. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

Jay held me on his lap and sang me to sleep.

When the foghorn blasted, it scared the shit out of me, causing me to jump awake. Pain speared my left side, reminding me of the abuse my ribs had taken. The resulting grunts of pain caused my face to hurt.

“Let me help,” Jay said, lifting me off his lap before standing next to me. “I’m sorry Cate, but I’m not going to let them do this to you again. I’ll tell them whatever they want to hear,” he spoke close to my ear as footsteps echoed down the stairs.

“You can’t. The minute you do, they’ll kill us,” I begged.

“Cate.” He whispered, resting his forehead on mine. “I don’t think I can do it. You’re so much stronger than I am.”

“No, I’m not, you have the harder job.” It was true. I didn’t need a psych degree to know it was a million times harder for him to watch me get hit without retaliating. It might be easier physically, but not emotionally.

Light flooded the basement as Roman and his men stormed down the stairs. He didn’t bother with a polite greeting, or any greeting at all—just ordered us to opposite corners. I moved slower than Jay and hadn’t made it to my corner before a goon grabbed me and yanked my hands behind my back, making my ribs scream.

Something happened . I made eye contact with Jay; he’d picked up on it, too. Roman was pissed, and no longer playing his game.

They took us together, trusting Jay not to risk my life by fighting. There’s no reason to worry about me. Even uncuffed I couldn’t have put up a fight.

Everything in the office looked the same as the last time, except the plastic sheet covering the floor.

Fuck. Roman wanted to protect his precious rug from our blood. Not that I hadn’t bled on the floor before. But it’d never been a lot.

We’re going to die here. I couldn’t have held back my shiver if I’d been fully healthy .

Once again tied to our chairs, Roman walked to the back of his desk, sat down, and leaned forward with his hands clasped.

“I was hoping you’d cooperate and I could get some answers.” He shook his head, as if realizing the error of his ways. “But now I have somewhere else I need to be, so we’re going to speed things along,” Roman said.

My heart beat against my ribs and I had to force myself to take steady breaths so I didn’t hyperventilate and pass out. He’s going to kill us.

“Franks, don’t you think Cate here is pretty?”

“I sure do.” He answered, licking his lips while his eyes trailed down my body.

Fuck . They’ll threaten rape to force Jay to talk. I turned to see Jay’s reaction, never doubting he understood their intent.

He strained against his ropes, his teeth clenched so tightly I could see every vein in his neck and forehead.

Fuck . “Sheppard, don’t.” I ordered.

Ignoring me, he growled, “If you touch her, I will kill you.”

“How noble. But how do you plan to do that?” Roman smiled his sick snake-like smile.

Jay leaned back, “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” His nostrils flared as he spoke. He needs to calm down before he got us both killed .

“Pay up.” Franks held his hand out. Roman handed him a hundred dollar bill.

Turns out he didn’t have any more questions. Roman told us his nephew had been arrested for the murder of Wendy. That was the text he got that ended the last session. Which was why he’s in a hurry, he needed to get out of dodge before the cops came looking for him.

He let his henchmen take turns beating Jay, this time just for fun. Franks held my head and forced me to watch. Roman wanted to make sure our last moments on Earth were as emotionally, mentally, and physically painful as possible.

When it was my turn, Roman made them stop hitting Jay. One of them held his head, forcing him to watch through swollen eyes as Franks took out his frustrations.

Roman stood behind his desk and watched, a smug smile on his face.

He thinks he’ll get away with it .