Page 187 of Scandalous Contract

“She’s not scared of you. But you should be terrified ofme.”

I stopped behind him and sliced a clean, shallow line down the back of his arm. He screamed through the gag, jerking against the chair, but the bindings held.

“That’s just the start,” I said, voice low.

The knife danced again, this time across his thigh. A ribbon of blood soaked through his jeans. He thrashed.

“Every drop you bleed is penance for what you tried to do to her,” I told him, standing in front of him again, eyes locked to his.

Then my phone rang. Fuck. I strode over to the table in the corner and wiped my hands on the rag while staring down at my phone that was on the table.Hername lit up the screen. I snatched it off the table so fast I almost dropped it. Answered without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Julian... I need you,” she cried.

She was crying. My heart stopped moving for a second.

“Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Julian... I think Hudson took India.”

My gaze jerked to the bastard I had tied up. “What? Why do you think that?”

“He left a note... and a photo on my back door,” she cried.

So, that was what that fucker had been doing back there. Shit. If I’d just checked, I would’ve found the note hours ago.

“It’s a picture of India tied up and blindfolded. And... and,” she said. “He said if I don’t call him, he’ll tell the cops I caused the crash... He said he’ll keep India. But I called and he won’t answer his phone.”

Because he was a little tied up at the moment.

“I’m on my way,” I told her. “We’ll find your baby girl, Stefanie. I swear it. Just hold on.”

“Thank you, Julian.”

The way she said my name made something rip open inside me. I hung up and turned back to the piece of shit slumped in the chair.

“Where is she?” I asked. “Where’s India?”

He mumbled something behind the gag. I ripped the cloth out of his mouth, watching his cracked lips tremble.

“I won’t tell you... Unless you let me go,” he rasped.

I laughed.The fucking audacity.I didn’t fucking negotiate with motherfuckers I planned to kill.

“Okay,” I muttered. “Let’s turn things up a notch.”

I walked to the supply shelf in the corner and rifled around until I found what I was looking for. The small torch. Hudson’s eyes bulged when he saw the flame ignite.

“Please...” he rasped.

“You’re dying here today,” I said. “But how you die depends on you. It can be quick. Or I can start with your feet and work my way up, lighting your ass up, inch by fucking inch, until you’re nothing but a puddle of scorched flesh stuck to this chair. Then I’ll box the whole damn chair up and mail it to your family.”

He started sobbing. Hard. Snot ran from his nose, dripping onto his chin, which trembled uncontrollably. I stepped forward, flames dancing before me.

“Tell me where she is,” I said again.

When he didn’t answer fast enough, I burned him. The torch flared, caught the fabric of his sock, and in two seconds, the scent of charred flesh filled the basement. His scream nearly split my skull.