Page 4 of Savage Captor (Deadly Devotion #1)

I spin on my heel and start speedwalking back to the library. The night presses in around me, every shadow stretching too far. Something is wrong. Something terrible is happening here.

The car door opens and shuts behind me. “Car for Scarlett Sharpe,” a dry voice calls out.

That’s when my fear transforms into a state of blind terror, and I break off into a sprint. Only Eric knows my real name. If someone else knows it, that means I’m compromised. That means I’m fucked —I’m dead. I’m done for. I’m—

An arm locks around my waist in a brutal, unyielding grip, and wrenches me back. My breath vanishes in a rush, ribs compressing under the force as I slam into a wall of muscle, and then the ground rushes up to meet me.

Pain detonates through my body as I crash down, sharp and unforgiving, rattling my bones and punching the air from my lungs. I force my limbs to move, to scramble upright, but before I can—cold metal presses into my side.

Fire follows. Electricity rips through me, invading every nerve, every muscle, every shred of strength I have.

My body jerks violently, an unwilling puppet to the volts crashing through my system.

All thought splinters and breaks. I choke on the scream clawing its way out of my throat, and a gloved hand clamps over my mouth, swallowing the sound.

As quickly as it started, the taser stops, though the shocks in my body take several more seconds to dissipate.

My vision’s swimming and my teeth are chattering, but desperation and adrenaline give me wings.

They offer me the strength I need, though it’s not enough.

I manage to bat away the gloved hand, crawl forward a few feet, and stumble halfway to my feet.

My attacker—probably one of my father’s men—tases me again, this time for longer.

The second shock is far worse than the first. The pain floods my body like lava, searing through muscle, scraping over bone, warping every nerve until movement is no longer my own.

My spine twists under the force and my legs buckle, sending me crashing back to the ground.

I shake uncontrollably, body convulsing, trembling so violently I taste iron in my mouth—sharp, metallic, a warning that I’m breaking under the strain.

A gloved hand smothers my scream again, but it can’t mute the sound entirely .

I’ve endured pain before. I’ve survived agony before. But nothing— nothing— has ever sunk its claws this deep, reaching into my very core.

I can’t even tell when the taser turns off, but my lax body is flipped over onto my back, and I get my first good look at my attacker.

Instinctively, I start cataloguing his appearance and clothing—something that would help identify him if I manage to escape.

Dark brown hair. Sharp grey eyes. Even sharper jawline.

Strong, muscular physique. Black clothes.

Army boots. Tattoos crawling over his neck.

“P-please,” I manage to wheeze out. If he works for my father, there’s no escape, but I can’t help my plea. I can’t go back to Dad. I can’t . I’d rather die than endure him again.

“Did my brother beg like that?” The man asks sharply. His voice is deep, gravelly, and filled with rage. He wants to kill me—I know he wants to kill me; I can feel it.

His brother? “I don’t know what you’re talking about—” I cut off when he slaps my cheek, hard . Hard enough for it to sting and burn, forcing my head to the side with a harsh crack.

“Lying bitch,” he mutters. “I’ll cut through your lies soon enough. They’ll fall apart under my blades.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about, but it sounds like he blames me for something that happened to his brother.

I… I think he might not have been sent by my father—otherwise, he’d be threatening me with the auction house, not just with torture.

I’d try to clarify that I’m a recluse who has minimal contact with the outside world and I have no idea who this guy or his brother is, but I don’t have the time or the strength.

Every nerve in my body screams, muscles twitching and spasming beyond control. I shouldn’t be able to move; I shouldn’t even be conscious, but I force myself to shift .

I push through the violent trembling, through the raw burn in my limbs, and flip over to my hands and knees. The effort sends fresh agony coursing through me, a punishment for defying what my body demands—that I stay down, that I give in.

I refuse.

I drag myself forward, half-sliding, half-crawling, every inch I move the product of a battle against inevitable failure. I’m not done yet.

A cruel chuckle echoes behind me as the taser presses into my side yet again, though it doesn’t activate.

“Don’t fucking bother,” the man hisses. “You’re not going anywhere until I’ve gotten what I need from you.

Then, I’m sending you straight to hell, and your piece of shit father will die alongside you.

” The taser activates before I can say that I have nothing to do with my father or any of his dealings.

The black spots swimming in my vision widen and deepen, swelling until they close in like a tide, swallowing sight, sound, and agony—until there’s nothing left.