Page 93 of The Betrayal You Serve

I fight like hell to drag my eyelids open only to be blinded by a bright spotlight that's pointed straight down at me. It's the first clue that this time I'm not waking up in a hospital.

No, it's much worse than that.

I'm in hell.

"Ah, you finally going to join us," a familiar blood-chilling voice says as the pain in my body makes itself known.

My vision is blurred as I search for the owner of the voice in the brightness.

"What have you given me, you asshole?" I slur, my voice making it sound like I’ve spent the entire day drinking when I know I haven't.

"Just a little something to help make you a little more… agreeable."

"It's going to take more than what you've given me to make that happen."

"Oh, I don't know," Victor says, finally moving so he's in my eyeline. "I seemed to get you here fairly easily."

"What do you want?" I spit.

He chuckles, it's low and menacing and would terrify a weaker man. But that's not who I am.

As my vision begins to clear a little more, I find three men standing behind him. One of which is Alana's husband. I fight to keep the smirk off my face when I take in the dark shadows under his eyes and the obvious stress in his features.

Oh yeah, he cares that he can't find her.

Perfect.

"What do I want? You really are fucking stupider than you look, boy."

It takes every ounce of strength I have to push myself up from the cold, solid floor beneath me to sit so I'm resting against the wall.

My head spins, my eyes desperate to close and let the darkness consume me once more but I can't.

I knew this was coming. I knew he wouldn't just let me walk out without getting the final say. Sadly for him, I have a plan. I just need to stay focused enough to remember it.

"We're done, Victor. I told you, take away everything. I want nothing more to do with you or this bullshit life. I am done."

"You're a fucking idiot. You don't get to give this up because of a girl. A fucking Hunter girl at that. Have those girls got diamond-encrusted cunts or something?"

"The only cunt around here is you, Victor. Let me go and I'll walk away and never look back."

"It’s almost sweet that you think I'll allow that to happen," he mutters, smoothing down his obnoxious tie and turning to look at his henchmen who also smirk at my suggestion.

"I think you'll do exactly that, Victor."

"Oh yeah, and why is that? Why would I let someone who knows so much about me and my business just walk away scot-free?"

"Because I know things you don't."

"Oh?" he asks, barely looking interested in what I might have to offer.

I sit silently for a few moments and lift my hand to push my damp hair from my head. I have no idea if it's wet with sweat or blood and I don't look at my hand to discover the answer, I really don't want to know.

Averting my stare from Victor, I look to his right-hand man, Razor, and then to his son, Maverick, Alana’s husband.

"You missing something that belongs to you, Mav?"

His jaw tics as he stares back at me, any attempt he's trying to make to look unaffected has failed.