Page 89 of Captive Audience

Inside were thin mattresses on the floor, stained with God knew what.

Empty water bottles. Strewn clothing. Dirty buckets. Shackles.

But no women.

“We missed them.” Aidan winced and covered his nose with the back of his hand. “But this looks fresh.”

It sure smelled it.

These fucking monsters, keeping people in conditions not even fit for an animal.

I stormed toward Gold Chains, and his eyes went wide. He resisted every step of the way as I grabbed him by the collar, dragged him into the container, and threw him against the wall. The metal clang rang out like a bell.

No time for fucking around. I slammed my fist into his gut, then his face. “Where are they?” I tore the duct tape from his mouth.

Chains spat blood on the floor and laughed. “Fuck you.”

I grabbed his throat, squeezing hard while holding him pinned. “You think this is a fucking joke?” With my free hand, I pulled my knife and stuck him in the thigh. He howled and bucked, but I didn’t let go. “I’m fresh out of jokes, but I have a riddle for you. Do you like those, mate?”

“Here we go,” Aidan grumbled.

Chains just looked at me like I was a crazy person.

“I’ll take that as a yes. A male has seven holes in his body. You now have eight. If I stab you each time you don’t answer a question, how many holes will you have before you die?”

He froze, his bravado slipping.

“What did the last one make it to?” I asked Aidan.

My cousin leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “Thirty-four.”

“Aye.” I held Chains’ panicked stare. “These sacks of meat are more resilient than you think, especially if you stick to the fleshy parts.”

He tried to swallow, but instead made a choked sound in his throat, then farted.

“Jaysus Christ,” Aidan muttered, and looked toward the ceiling. “We have a shitter.”

“It’s all right, mate.” I gave Chains a gentle slap on the cheek. “You wouldn’t be the first bloke to disgrace himself when we’ve played this game. And it’s not like this place can smell any worse, is it?”

Chains trembled beneath my grip. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

I leaned in close so he could see the truth in my eyes. “Neither do you. And now look at you. Shitting yourself while I decide where to stab you next. Eye or nut sack?”

“My vote’s for eye,” Aidan said. “They make such a satisfying pop when they explode.”

“That’s a solid point you make there, cuz.” I aimed an arched brow at Chains. “So, what’ll it be?”

His teeth chattered while he thought about it. Four seconds. Five. “The women are gone. Shipped out.”

“Where?”

“Fuck if I know. Europe. Asia. Wherever the buyers are.”

Aidan and I exchanged a look. That wasn’t what we’d expected. We knew women were being brought across the border for local prostitution. Shipping them internationally was a whole other level.

“We know you’re working for the Soul Collector.” A bluff, but we needed to be sure Chains was part of the same organization. “Where can we find him?”

Chains clammed up again. Terror, stark and cold, flashed in his eyes. Something told me he was more scared of his boss than me turning him into Swiss cheese.