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ATLAS

I lifted my head off my chest from where I’d been dozing—or unconscious—not sure which.

Probably a little of both. The men had brought me back to the main compound where they’d roughed me up and tied me to a chair then left me in a concrete room with no windows. I had no idea what time it was or whether the storm was still raging outside. Blood had dried in streaks down my chest from several cuts on my face and a split lip but otherwise, I’d definitely gone through worse. It probably hadn’t been smart to start laughing at them, but compared to the treatment I’d received at Atrox, this was like a spa day.

The only concerning things were the stab wound in my side and the large gash that ran down my chest. Both hurt like a bitch and the stab wound was making it hard to take a full breath.

The door slammed open and I looked up to see three men file into the room. The first two were the ones who’d spoken to me in the woods, but the third was obviously the leader. He had red hair buzzed short and a handlebar mustache surrounding a mouth chewing on a cigar. The man stared at me for an almost uncomfortably long time, like he was trying to make me speak first or intimidate me. He wasn’t going to achieve either one of those things so I just stared back at him with a bored look on my face while I waited him out.

“I would ask what a military man is doing out here in the middle of nowhere but the crates of gold we discovered answered that question for me,”

he said finally. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“Does it matter?”

The man shrugged. “Or I can just call you asshole.”

“That fits him better.”

I looked over at the man who had spoken and shrugged as best I could.

“Suit yourself.”

The man stepped closer, looking me over before meeting my gaze again.

“Where’s the rest of the gold?” He asked.

I leaned forward slightly like I was going to tell him. “Go fuck yourself.”

The man blinked and barked out a laugh.

“You know—you have some balls. Taking out as many of my men as you did and then sitting here giving me attitude—big balls.”

He patted me roughly on the cheek and chuckled.

I didn’t answer.

He shrugged and pulled his knife out of his belt.

“Here’s the truth of it—I have your comms unit. When your friends reach out, probably soon now that this storm is letting up—they’re going to find you unavailable. I’m going to demand the rest of the gold from them in exchange for you…”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “But we both know you’re not leaving here alive. So you might as well save yourself some pain by just telling me where your little hideout is and we can make all of this real easy.”

I shook my head, trying to hide a smirk and failing.

“Talk about balls—you don’t even know who I am,”

I scoffed. “Making a threat like that—let’s just say this isn’t going to end well for you.”

The man blinked at me then tipped his head back and laughed. It went on before he dashed his hand over his eyes, a few laughs still rocking him.

“Seriously, I really wish I didn’t have to kill you,” he said.

Before I could blink, he whipped his hand out and drove the knife into the back of my hand where it rested on the arm of the chair. Pain roared through me and my breathing picked up as I growled my displeasure.

The door opened and a man stuck his head in. “Sir, they’ve made contact.”