Page 284 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

It’s been hours since Malcolm asked who they should start with. Hours since they dragged Rafael from his cell, ignoring his struggles and pleas. Hours of listening to his screams until they eventually stopped.

They made us watch.

That was the worst part—not just hearing Rafael’s agony, but being forced to witness every second of it. Malcolm wanted us to see what happens to people who betray him. Wanted us to understand exactly what we were in for.

Rafael lasted longer than I expected. Even with all the things they did to him—the cuts, the burns, the methodical breaking of his fingers one by one—he held on, probably hoping that someone would come for us. That there would be some last-minute rescue.

But no one came. And eventually, Rafael stopped fighting. Not long after that, he stopped breathing.

They left his body on the concrete floor as a reminder, just a few feet away from our cages. His eyes are still open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, and there’s so much blood that it’s pooled beneath him and started to congeal at the edges.

The smell of death is heavy in the air, mingling with the damp concrete and the metallic tang of blood. It clings to the back of my throat, making me gag every time I breathe too deeply.

Malcolm and Elliot took a break after they were finished with Rafael, but now they’re coming back, and I can hear their footsteps on the concrete just before they come into view.

My heart is pounding in my chest as they pause in front of our cages, sizing us up like they’re deciding which animal to slaughter next.

“This one,” Malcolm says, pointing at Nico’s cage.

Fuck.

“No,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

Elliot smirks at me as he unlocks Nico’s cell. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get your turn.”

Two of Malcolm’s guards step up and grab Nico by the arms to start dragging him out of the cage. He struggles against them, landing a solid punch to one guard’s jaw before the other slams the butt of his gun into Nico’s stomach, making him double over, gasping for breath.

“Bring him here,” Malcolm orders, gesturing to the center of the room where the concrete is still stained with Rafael’s blood.

Nico looks over and gives me the smallest nod, silently telling me he’ll be okay even though we both know that’s a lie.

They start by punching and kicking him, the sound of their blows making me flinch every time.

Nico barely makes a sound, occasionally grunting or sucking in a gulp of air.

He doesn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out, though, and all I can do is keep praying that he’s able to withstand whatever they have in store for him.

But then they bring out other tools—things I try not to look at too closely because it makes me sick to think about what they’re doing to him.

I always thought Malcolm was the worst member of the Dark Lotus Syndicate, the most vicious and heartless.

But watching Elliot now, I realize I was wrong.

He’s every bit as brutal as Malcolm, maybe even more so because he seems to genuinely enjoy it.

The way he smiles when he makes Nico groan in pain, the almost tender way he selects each new instrument of torture—it’s fucking sickening.

I should never have imagined I had a chance to convert Elliot to my side.

He and Malcolm are cut from the same brutal, monstrous cloth.

The realization makes me feel like an idiot.

My naive hope that Elliot might turn against Malcolm because of what happened to his mother was just that—naive.

He doesn’t care about his mother. or anyone else.

He only cares about raw power. And right now, he has it.

My entire body is so tense that my muscles are starting to ache. I can barely breathe as I watch them take out their anger and frustration on Nico. They’ve stripped him to the waist, and his chest and back are covered in cuts and bruises.

Elliot circles him with a cattle prod in his hand, tapping it against his palm in what can only be described as sadistic anticipation.

“You know what this is?” he asks, holding the prod in front of Nico’s face. Without waiting for an answer, he presses it against Nico’s side.

Electricity crackles through the air. Nico’s body goes rigid as every muscle tenses at once. His jaw clenches so tight I can see the muscles standing out in his neck, but he doesn’t scream. He won’t give them the satisfaction.

“That’s it,” Elliot says in a soft, almost gentle voice. “Fight it all you want. It only makes it sweeter when you finally break.”

Malcolm stands a few feet away, watching. He hasn’t said much, seemingly content to let Elliot do most of the dirty work.

“I wonder what your pretty wife thinks about all this,” Elliot says to Nico, glancing over at me. “She’s the reason you’re here, after all. Her little rebellion is what’s going to get you all killed.”

Nico spits blood onto the floor. “Fuck you.”

Elliot laughs and hits him with the prod again, this time holding it against his stomach for several long seconds. Nico’s body convulses as his muscles spasm uncontrollably. His face contorts in agony, but still, he doesn’t scream.

I can see it in his eyes though. The pain and the fear that he won’t be able to hold out much longer. That they’ll break him in front of me.

I grip the bars of my cage harder, holding his gaze whenever he looks my way. I try to pour every ounce of strength I have into that connection, silently telling him that I’m here, that I see him, that I’m not looking away no matter how hard it gets.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper when Elliot turns his back for a moment. I don’t know if Nico can hear me, but I need to say it. Need him to know that I never wanted this for him, for any of them.

His eyes find mine across the room, and despite everything, there’s a flicker of something in them that isn’t pain or fear. Something warmer.

Love.

“Worth it,” he mouths back, the words barely audible but unmistakable.

My chest tightens. Even now, even here, in the middle of this nightmare, he’s thinking of me. Telling me that whatever happens, whatever they do to him, it was worth it. I was worth it.

I don’t deserve this man. I don’t deserve any of them. But dammit, I’m going to get them out of here if it’s the last thing I do.

Elliot notices our silent exchange and his face darkens.

“How sweet,” he sneers. “You still love each other, even in the face of death.” He tosses the cattle prod from one hand to the other, then suddenly cranks it to a higher setting.

The device hums with increased power, and the sound makes my stomach clench.

“Let’s see how much he really loves you when he can’t even remember your name. ”

“Stop,” I call out. “Just stop. You’ve made your point.”

Malcolm steps forward with a cold smile on his face. “Actually, we’re just getting started.” He nods to Elliot. “Show her what happens when someone tries to take what’s mine.”

Elliot smiles as he steps closer to Nico. A guard grabs Nico’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat while another douses him with water.

“Water conducts electricity,” Elliot explains, as if he’s giving a fucking science lesson. “Makes the experience so much more intense.”

A strangled sound escapes my throat as Elliot presses the cattle prod against Nico’s chest. Nico’s entire body convulses, his back arching in agony as electricity courses through him. This time, he can’t hold back a groan that tears from deep in his throat.

“Don’t worry,” Elliot says, looking at me.

“I won’t kill him yet. That would be too merciful.

” He applies the prod again, this time to Nico’s shoulder.

Nico’s face contorts in pain as his muscles seize.

“First, I’m going to make him suffer. Then I’m going to do the same to your other two dogs.

And then, when you’ve watched them all break, when you’ve heard them scream and beg for death, then maybe—maybe—I’ll let you join them. ”

“You’re a fucking monster,” I hiss.

“Yes,” he agrees easily. “I am. And you should have known better than to fight monsters.”

He’s right. I should have known better. Should have been smarter and more careful. I should have found another way.

But it’s too late for should-haves now. All I can do is watch as Elliot continues his work, shocking Nico again and again until his body is covered in sweat and his breathing comes in ragged gasps.

He’s bruised and battered, but fighting—still fighting against the pain, against giving them what they want.

And all I can do is hold Nico’s gaze whenever he looks my way, silently promising him that this won’t be the end. That somehow, some way, we’ll survive this.

Elliot shocks him again and I can’t fucking take it anymore.

Every time the cattle prod touches Nico’s skin, every time his body convulses with pain, it feels like I’m being torn apart from the inside out.

And the worst part is, I know Nico. I know how stubborn he is and how much pride he has.

He’ll never give Malcolm and Elliot what they want.

He’ll never beg, much less break like they think he will—and that terrifies me.

Because the longer he holds out, the more frustrated they’ll get.

And the more frustrated they get, the more likely they are to just kill him and move on to their next victim.

I have to do something. Anything.

“Malcolm,” I call out. “You need to stop this bullshit.”

He turns to look at me, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what I need to do.”

He’s right, but I’m ignoring that fact for now.