Page 4

CHAPTER 3

LAKE

T he light burned my retinas but I refused to close them. Yanking on my hands, I tried again, and again, to get them out of the cuffs.

Whoever the fuck had us was coming. One creaky step at a time. His whistle was happy, clear, and a tune I'd heard before.

“You Are My Sunshine”?

Fuck...That was creepy.

By the time his foot hit the third step, my wrists were rubbed raw. This one didn't just creak, it groaned as if it wasn’t going to hold up to his weight. He didn't care, placing his other foot on the fourth step down.

I shot a glance at the others and my heart squeezed so tight, it was going to fucking explode.

From the miniscule part of Atlas' face I could see behind the stairs, his top lip peeled up in a snarl and the whites of his eyes nearly glowed as his focus trained on the underside of the stairs.

Joaquin's face canted away from the stairs like he was trying–and failing–not to see who was coming down them. He was blinking.

Blinking so fucking fast.

This dredged up memories for him. Bad ones.

Then there was Kim. Our sweet Kim. The chain hung from his wrist as he wrapped his arms tight around his knees. His face was tipped up, and the light from the single, dangling bulb caught all his best angles. Only, his eyes were vacant as tears poured down his face.

Whoever this was, he was dead.

I didn't just mean when we escaped. He was going to be dead as soon as I could get these goddamn cuffs off my wrists.

My shoulders were numb, and a spear of pain arced down my back as I yanked against them one more time. I gasped as the man's knees came into view, then his thighs. He had scrawny-ass legs, but they were cased in expensive slacks.

Something old school and stupid like Donnie liked to wear.

He continued whistling that fucking song as his hand gripped a board at the ceiling, and then he ducked under it.

It...It wasn't Donnie.

I stopped breathing, trying to align all the pieces in my head, but it was fuzzy.

" Who the fuck are you? " Atlas burst out, craning forward, trying to get a better look at this guy as his feet hit the dirt floor.

The man was in his late thirties, maybe early forties. Soft, brown hair feathered away from a clean-shaven face. He gave off wealthy vibes, but I'd never seen him in my life.

It didn't stop rage from coursing through my body as he took us in, chained up and dirty, with a fucking smirk on his face.

" Who the hell are you? " I screamed, joining Atlas. A trickle of something–probably blood–ran down my arm and I pressed my wrist deeper into the cuff holding my wrist up.

He walked toward me, his steps hardly making any sound on the soft, dirt floor. That smirk tipped up even higher. I studied every angle of his face. He didn't match any of the pictures Gio had sent me. He could still work for the Pescis. He could just be a distant family member. A silent partner.

Something.

He stopped over me and just stared.

Fuck!

I hated being powerless. I hated this feeling, and I promised the others we'd never fucking feel it again. Yet, here we were, and I was chained up more than the others. Useless with my hands hooked to the wall.

"Don't answer. I don't care who you are.” My voice was steady. “What I do care about, is getting off this fucking wall. You know what's going to happen when I do?"

I waited, wanting him to answer me.

The fucker didn't. He just watched with a satisfied expression on his goddamn, ugly face. He couldn't be more than one-hundred-and-seventy pounds. Maybe one-hundred-and-eighty. I had a solid forty to fifty pounds on him.

It didn't matter if my hands were nubs. When I got off the wall, I'd beat the ever-loving shit out of him and laugh while I did it. I'd probably pop a fucking boner from the satisfaction I'd get seeing his face concave and bloody.

The mental image started a tingle of anticipation in my stomach.

I just needed time.

Fuck him. He didn't have to say a word.

"What did the Pescis pay you?" Atlas tried to get his attention as he walked toward Kim and Joaquin.

This man had no way to know, but of any of us that could have been placed together, I was glad it was those two.

They had the biggest feelings, the most heart.

God help us, when we got out of here, they'd be the most fucked up.

Again.

I couldn't stop the growl building up in my throat. I didn't want to.

The asshole ignored me as he crouched down, just out of reach of Kim. The smirk morphed into an indulgent smile as he touched the floor with the two fingers of his right hand.

"Get the fuck away from him!" I bellowed, the pressure building behind my eyes.

"Don't touch him!" Joaquin launched himself forward when the man raised his hand.

"Uh-uh." The man tsked as he pulled back.

Joaquin couldn't reach the man, but he could reach Kim, and he wrapped his fingers around Kim’s forearm, trying to get as close to him as he could. While they were close enough to touch, that was as much as their chains would allow. They couldn't do anything else, and there wasn't enough slack on Kim's chain for Joaquin to protect him.

My heart throbbed against my ribcage as the man shifted away from Joaquin and closer to Kim. He touched Kim's chin to shift his face up. Kim dropped his gaze and didn't fight him.

He was freezing.

He was fucking freezing, just like he used to do with Gates.

"Get your goddamn hand off of him!" I raged against the chains, twisting, and bucking. They groaned. There was a little give, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

"Get away from him, Kim!" Atlas shouted as Joaquin cursed, trying to yank on Kim's hand to snap him out of it.

"Fight him, Kim. He can't touch you. No one is allowed to touch you," Joaquin rushed out, attempting to reason with him.

I kept fighting as Joaquin kept talking. All while that fucking man kept touching what wasn't his to touch.

"The only ones who can touch you are us, and Beasty. Remember Beasty?"

That worked. That worked both better and worse. Kim gasped, scooting back from the man.

"Where is she? Is she upstairs?" Horror filled Kim's expression and I closed my eyes.

I'd already thought of that. When I woke up and realized we were the only ones down here. The only place Beasty could be was upstairs. It was better that way.

Sometimes, when we were young, we were taken into a separate room, away from each other. That was the best option. If you were going to be raped, you were going to be raped. There was a comfort in knowing those closest to you didn't have to witness it.

I didn't give a fuck. Not about me, but I know it played on Kim and Joaquin. They used to have nightmares about trying to save Atlas and me.

Sometimes, the nightmares of watching your friends get abused were worse than the nightmares of your own abuse. Trauma was funny that way.

Fucked up as it was, I didn't want the image of this man hurting Beasty burned in Joaquin and Kim's brain for the rest of their lives.

In this case, their imagination was better than the reality.

For Beasty's sake, I didn't want her to know they'd seen it. Everything I knew about our prickly girl told me that she would be devastated if they could see and not do anything.

Like I was right fucking now as that man had his filthy fingers on Kim's ankle. He slowly tugged Kim's foot out.

I wanted to yell. Anything and everything. Fuck, I didn't even make sense.

"If you're good, I'll tell you what happened to your friend Beasty."

Atlas lost it next.

He shouted, turning around and kicking his legs against the wall, trying to use his body weight as leverage to get his cuff off his wrist.

"Stop, Atlas!" He was going to break his hand.

If anyone was going to mutilate themselves, it was going to be me. It had to be me. I was the only one that kind of pain and torture wouldn't fuck up. Worse, anyway.

Kim whimpered as his leg fully straightened. "She's dead. She has to be dead."

"She's not dead, Kim! She can't be!" Joaquin cried out, his eyes shining bright. He needed to believe it. "Tell me where she is, Kim. Tell me what she's doing right now?"

No.

Fuck this.

The man grabbed Kim's other foot, slowly dragging that leg out too as if he wanted to savor the moment.

Joaquin kept talking, trying to take Kim’s mind off of what was happening. Like this man hurting Kim right in front of us was a foregone conclusion.

"Sh-she's back in her apartment. The one she loves." Kim squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head to the side, away from Joaquin. He didn't bother covering his face. Gates used to beat him anytime he tried to hide from that evil fucker. "She landed a good job. An office job. She doesn't have to scrimp by anymore. She can buy clothes without holes in them." He choked up.

The man reached for the waistband of Kim's pants, chuckling like this all amused him.

"Stop! You want to hurt someone? Hurt me? I like it. I'll beg for it, but get the fuck away from him!" I was frantic, but I didn't fight against my chains anymore.

If I wanted him away from Kim, he had to think I wouldn't fight him.

It was a long shot, but this was what I did–threw myself on the sword for them. I took the pain for them .

It was my purpose in life.

Beasty popped up in my head, and I pushed her away. There wasn't anything I could do for her right now, but I could do this for Kim.

The man sat back on his haunches, resting his hands on his thighs, a fucking tiny tent in his slacks. He couldn't cause enough damage with that thing to hurt a fly.

He was so fixated on Kim, with fevered lust in his eyes, there was no way he was leaving him to come fuck with me.

"What's your name?" If I couldn't save Kim, I could buy time. But I wasn't giving up on either yet.

The man raised his brows. "Why would I give you that? You knew Gates' name and blabbed it as soon as you were caught by the cops." The man sneered and my blood ran cold.

There was something off about the way he said that.

"You're assuming we're going to get free. If no one ever finds us, you don't have to worry about that." Joaquin jumped in to help distract him.

The man smiled, still eyeing Kim with too much fucking interest. "I know what you're trying to do, but considering I have a team of men patrolling the perimeter and more fail-safes than God, I don't see any harm in telling you. It will make our acquaintance easier anyway." He dragged his sick gaze to me. "Lucas Brown."

He seemed to be waiting for a reaction.

Well, I didn't fucking have one for him. I didn't recognize the name.

What I did know was that name was not on Gio’s list. Who was this fucking guy?

"What did the Pescis pay you to do this?" I fished. I needed to know if my suspicions were right.

The man jerked his head back.

I could feel Joaquin’s and Atlas' stares, but I couldn't look away from this guy, Lucas. I needed to catalog every minute change in his expression, pick him apart.

If Kim were more present, he would be leading us, but he was still turned to the side, away from the man who wanted to hurt him.

"The Pescis? Why would you think I worked with those scum?" His brows scrunched together, and one side of his mouth dipped down in a frown. There was no hesitation to his words. No twitching in his features. He also didn't look to the left like most people did when they lied.

I finally allowed myself to look away from him, first at Joaquin's troubled expression, then at the fury stamped in Atlas' soul.

Who was this guy? Why did he take us?