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SEVENTY-SIX

AMETHYST

Every ounce of moisture leaves my throat as I stare down at my attacker. He’s stocky, built like a bulldog with equal amounts of muscle and fat. There’s a bald patch in his dark brown hair, which makes him look far less imposing than he did last night.

Or was it the night before?

Time is moving so quickly. It seems almost a week ago since those men broke into my house. Now, my entire life has changed.

He’s on his hands and knees with a ring gag around his mouth and is naked save for some sort of harness around his hips. It’s fashioned from chains linked together by padlocks, and attached to the bridle around his companion’s head.

Apart from that, it’s hard to tell what else is keeping the second man’s face attached to his ass.

Xero leans into me and growls, “What are you waiting for?”

I swallow hard, the membranes of my throat sticking together. “What do you want me to do?”

“Torture him,” he snarls. “Ask questions.”

My gaze locks with the man’s pleading eyes. They’re a deeper shade of blue than Xero’s and so commonplace they may as well not exist. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to ignore his humanity. Or the horror of this entire situation.

If Xero hadn’t emerged from the cupboard under the stairs, this man would have raped me over the kitchen table and watched his companions take their turns, before dragging me out for something even more nefarious.

“Why me?” I ask.

The man grunts.

Xero shoves me in the back and hisses, “Start with a threat.”

“Like what?” I whisper back.

“Tell that bastard what you’ll do if he doesn’t talk.”

My stomach heaves. “But I don’t want to torture anyone.”

The man crawls toward me on trembling limbs, dragging his semi-conscious friends. Tears glisten in his eyes, making my stomach churn. He grunts something unintelligible behind his gag and I reach for the buckle, but Xero snatches my wrist.

“What are you doing?” he hisses.

“I want to hear what he has to say.”

“You do not have my permission to touch another man unless it’s to carve out his flesh,” he snarls and unfastens the man’s gag.

The bulldog groans with relief as the object falls to the floor. He gazes up at me and raises his bound hands.

“Help me,” he rasps.

“After you tried to help yourself to my body?” I snap, already bristling at his audacity.

Xero clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Rule number one of interrogation. Show no compassion toward the subject or they’ll waste time begging for mercy.”

I shrug him off. “You had the whole morning to tell me that.”

“That’s Xero Greaves,” the man says, his voice rising with panic. “He did this to us, and he’ll do this to you.”

My pulse quickens. The worst part of that statement is it’s true. Xero is more twisted than he appeared to be in his letters, but he hasn’t permanently harmed me… yet.

The fingers digging into my shoulder tighten, and his lips graze my ear, sending unsettlingly pleasant tingles across my skin. “He’s taking advantage of your weaknesses,” Xero murmurs. “Show him the consequences of trying to create discord among his captors.”

So, I’m a captor now?

I breathe hard, my hands breaking out in a sweat. Heat radiates from my body, getting trapped beneath my disposable lab coat. I thought basements were supposed to be cold, but this room is full of the heat of the men’s despair.

“Amethyst,” Xero snarls.

“I’m the one asking the questions.” I jab the knife at the man’s eye, making him flinch back into the man attached to his ass. “Now, why did you target me?”

“What did you do with Jake?” he says through clenched teeth.

“He’s dead,” I reply.

The man’s eyes widen, and his gaze darts to Xero. “Jake was my brother.”

“Don’t look at me,” Xero says, and I can almost hear the grin in his voice. “I only slid her the knife.”

The man’s gaze snaps back to meet mine, only his eyes are hard with accusation.

“You’re the man whose name was on the missing person poster?” I ask.

He raises his bound hands to lunge at me, but I sidestep.

“Hey,” I snap. “Nobody would have gotten killed if you assholes didn’t come after me. Why am I your target, anyway?”

He just stares at me through eyes so hard that the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I search my mind for the name on the poster. “Dale, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he snarls.

“You just tried to attack me. Again. Now I don’t see you as so much of a victim. I want to know why the hell you and your brother came to my house.”

“At last,” Xero mutters.

Ignoring him, I raise the knife, making Dale swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, and I wonder how it would look if I took a slice.

“Tell me everything,” I say.

“So you and your sicko boyfriend can torture and kill me?” Dale snarls.

“It’s not like you have a choice,” I answer. “Tell me why I became your target, and I’ll keep Xero at bay.”

Xero scoffs .

I run the tip of my blade beneath Dale’s eye, making him freeze. “That’s right,” I say. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

“You ain’t shit without Xero Greaves at your back.”

“I never said I was.” The blade presses into his skin, loosening a bead of blood.

Dale’s nostrils flare. “There are much more frightening people than a wannabe who twerks in front of the camera.”

My jaw drops. He’s seen my videos? Of course, he has. He’s the brother of my most belligerent online troll, JakeRake69.

“Who are you talking about?” I ask.

He clamps his mouth shut.

Xero pulls me away and places me in the corner. “Stand back, little ghost. I need room to maneuver.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

He pulls back his fist and punches Dale in the eye. Dale’s anguished howl echoes through the small chamber, making my ears ring. I press my back into the wall, wondering why Dale’s reacting so severely until blood spurts from his closed eyelid.

I glance down at Xero’s fist, finding a blade sticking out between his fingers.

“Did you just stab him in the eye?” I yell over Dale’s screeching.

Xero turns to me with his teeth bared. “Torture isn’t a civil conversation, nor is it an argument. You need to show the target that you’re serious about causing him harm or death.”

My heart pounds as realization settles into my skull. “You’re sick.”

He cocks his head to the side and stares at me through icy blue eyes I once thought were beautiful. If eyes are the window to the soul, then I’m looking into the coldest corner of hell.

“Amethyst, did you forget that the police caught me holding my stepmother’s still-beating heart?”

My mouth opens and closes, and my mind scrambles for an answer. Dale’s screams continue to ring through my ears, unsettling my thoughts. Yes, I knew Xero was a murderer. No, I didn’t forget the part about the heart. Maybe at the time, I thought it was just theoretical. Almost poetic .

So, why am I so surprised? Did I really delude myself into thinking I’d tamed the monster?

“Dale won’t tell you anything now that he’s in pain,” I say to deflect.

Xero’s smirk makes me bristle. How can he smile when he’s just stabbed another man in the eye? How can he be so fucking relaxed?

He turns to where Dale is hunched over and grabs a handful of his hair. “Are you still with me, Daley-boy?”

“Get off me,” Dale roars, his body thrashing within the tight restraints. Blood pours freely down his cheek, sending splatters across the room.

Clutching the knife, I press my back into the corner, each breath rasping and desperate, as if the air itself flees my lungs. This interrogation wasn’t going too badly until Xero took over. I can’t believe I set up an entire fan club around this creature.

He’s completely unhinged.

“Amethyst has a nice ass, doesn’t she?” Xero growls.

Dale is too busy screaming to answer the question. The man attached to his ass tries to shrink away, as do the other men in this grotesque arrangement. My mind tries to make sense of what the fuck is happening.

I thought Xero wanted answers. Why the hell is he bringing the interrogation back to my body?

“Answer my fucking question,” he snarls. “Did you like looking at her ass?”

“Yes,” Dale screams.

“Bet you got nice and hard at the thought of sticking your cock into her sweet pussy.”

My hand flies to my chest, and my cheeks burn. Why the hell is he talking shit about me in a room full of thugs? I thought he would be a gentleman… At least out in public.

“Xero!”

“Stay back, little ghost,” he snarls.

He doesn’t need to ask me twice. I fumble around the wall, looking for the secret lever to open the door and let me out. I don’t want to stick around to be the subject of this kind of locker room talk .

“Answer me,” he growls, giving Dale’s head a shake. “Did you get an erection?”

“Yes,” Dale sobs.

Xero plunges his knife into Dale’s remaining eye, making all four of the men scream.

My stomach lurches. Whirling around, I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle my own scream. This is too much. I didn’t even agree to this interrogation, let alone becoming an accessory to a brutal torture. Now I’m trapped in a confined space with a murderer going psycho on a bunch of rapists.

The thud of several bodies hitting the concrete floor has me glancing over my shoulder. Xero’s broad back is turned to me, but his arm makes the kind of sawing motion I only ever see when men are carving a roast.

Dale’s screams reach a crescendo, but I can barely hear the words through the blood roaring through my ears.

Don’t tell me…

I gag.

He couldn’t be…

When Xero holds up a fleshy appendage, my vision goes double, and I sway on my feet. Gulping for air, I force myself to stay conscious. Every fiber of my being wants me to black out and escape this chamber of torture, but that would mean falling into Dale’s expanding puddle of blood.

I turn back to my corner and resolve not to watch Xero’s insane rampage, but the snap and clink of chains have my body giving into curiosity.

Dale lies on his side, no longer attached to his thinner comrade, a ruddy-faced man with strawberry-blond hair. His pupils are so blown that it’s impossible to tell his true eye color, but all the blood has leached from his face.

Xero crouches in front of the man, holding the severed penis. “Did you see Amethyst’s ass?”

He shakes his head. “I was the one who told Dale not to do it.”

“I see,” Xero replies, not sounding like he believes a word. “And your name is?”

“Paul,” the man replies with a shudder. “Paul Brantley. ”

“Well, Paul Brantley, Dale wasn’t very cooperative, and he touched the woman I love. You’re going to make up for his transgressions by telling me everything you know.”

My breath catches, and I sway on my feet. Does Xero really love me or is he just saying that to prove a point?

Paul’s gaze darts to the severed penis. “Or what?”

“Or you choke on Dale’s cock. Then I slice off yours and ask the next guy the same questions. If none of you cock-less wonders want to speak, then I’ll gouge out your eyes. If that doesn’t loosen your tongues, then I’ll cut them out, too.”

Paul shudders. “Oh, God.”

“I prefer the Angel of Death, but God also works,” Xero says with a dazzling smile.

My pussy chooses that moment to flutter. I wonder if the superficial bitch realizes that she’s simping for a psychopath.

Xero dangles the penis in his face. “Are you ready to talk?”

“What do you want to know?” Paul blurts.

“Who sent you?” Xero asks.

“My boss?”

“Elaborate.”

Paul gulps. “I’ll tell you in exchange for my freedom.”

“I’m listening,” Xero says.

“You’ve got to set me free first.”

Xero cocks his head. “Let me guess, you’ll send the information I want in the mail?”

Paul’s entire body sags, realizing the futility of making demands. “I was only following orders, okay? The boss said to bring her to him, unhurt, but Dale decided he wanted a taste.”

“Go on.”

“We’re scouts from X-Cite Media. We make?—”

“Snuff movies,” Xero mutters. “I saw what you did with my execution.”

Paul’s mouth opens and closes, and I can tell he wants to know how Xero survived the electric chair. He seems to think better of asking and says, “The boss wanted to stage a sequel. There’s even a replica electric chair in the studio for her.”

My jaw drops. “But why me? ”

Paul bows his head. “He’s been obsessed since you went viral. He won’t stop sending emails demanding where you’re located.”

“His name?” Xero asks.

“Delta.”

Xero hisses through his teeth. “Where do I find him?”

“Do you know him?” I ask.

“Yes.” Xero turns to the smaller man and barks, “Where?”

As Paul rattles off an address on the other side of town, Xero sets down the severed penis and turns to where I’m huddled in the corner.

“Xero?” I whisper.

“Time to take down the asshole who wants to make you a snuff movie star.”