part0019

T he door shut and locked behind me. I was safe—currently anyway—back in the comfort of what I was now calling my room. Besides the tray from breakfast disappearing, nothing had changed.

Another encounter with him and I had a fear induced panic attack. I didn’t know what shocked me more, that there was a hitman after me, that it caused my first panic attack, or that Hart knew how to combat the attack.

I leapt onto the bed, falling back into the soft folds of the comforter and stared up at the stark white ceiling as I slid the letter opener under my pillow. It was just a plain ceiling, nothing fancy about it except that it was the cap that sealed me into this hell. Bound by four walls at all times, I was wondering if I would ever be free of this place. It took being locked away for a while to realize how much I missed the little things in life. What I wouldn’t give to feel the sun on my face or to gaze upon the stars again.

I still didn’t understand why I was being kept here, why he had taken me or why the living conditions were far greater than anything I could have expected from a kidnapper. Though, I wouldn’t deny it—he had good taste.

Or did he hire someone to furnish the entire estate?

Suddenly the door unlocked, and Charlotte came rushing in, worry plastered across her face, the color drained from her skin except for her cheeks which were flushed from running. I pulled myself up, confused and concerned when she grabbed my hand and pulled me abruptly into the bathroom.

“What the hell, Charlotte?”

In a hushed voice, she said, “Keep your voice down. If they hear us, we’ll both be in trouble.” Her voice was strained and panicked.

She pulled me further into the bathroom so that we were as far away from the door as physically possible. Her breathing was quickened, sweat dripped down the side of her forehead, and her once immaculate hair was falling out of the clip’s hold.

“Listen very carefully. In a few minutes, they’re going to come back.” She looked at me, warning me that her next words were going to be hard to swallow. “They’re going to take you.”

I had no reason to trust her; I had only met her once, but what choice did I have? Those words echoed in my mind, bringing flashbacks of the night that they grabbed me off the street. My immediate reaction was to pull away from her, to get as far away as I could.

“Listen!” She snapped, pulling me closer by the shoulders.

My breathing started to quicken, my heart started pumping, getting ready for another fight or flight response.

“This is because of the phone, isn’t it?” I asked in a shaky voice.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t even be here warning you.”

“Listen to me! I don’t have much time. They’ll be here any minute. Hart’s men are going to take you, go with them. Don’t fight it, it’ll only make things worse. Do what he says, tell him what he wants to know, for your sake. Do whatever you have to do to convince him.” She hesitantly stole a look over my shoulder when we heard footsteps approaching. “He’s going to break you. Break you all the way down, take any hope you have away from you. You’re going to hit the fucken bottom; do you hear me?”

“That’s what he does.” The words hit me like a freight train.

“Just tell him what he wants to know and pray to God he believes you.”

“Why?” I asked, shaking my head in denial, afraid for my life.

We both turned as we heard the warning beeps and the doorknob turning.

“Go!” She whispered, pushing me toward the bathroom door. I was walking into a trap, knowingly but I couldn’t run back, they’d find Charlotte, and then we’d both be in trouble.

She risked everything to warn me. The least I could do was keep her out of trouble.

I walked out into the bedroom just as Sawyer and a few other guards came in.

This was it. I was walking to my grave.

I wasn’t sure what was better, knowing that they were going to take me, or being caught by surprise. Who was I fooling? I knew something like this was going to happen. I knew the risk when I tried calling for help.

“Did you miss me, bitch?” Sawyer snickered at me, gripping my upper arm and pulling me toward him. My hands braced his chest to keep me from falling into him as he knocked me off balance. I tried pushing off, but he held me tight.

I could smell the cigarettes on his breath, see the decay on his teeth. His hair was slick and oily and he was in desperate need of a shower. Tugging once more, I tried to break his hold, but instead, he gripped my wrists, clenching them together tightly.

And then in an instant, my world went dark as they pulled a black hood over my eyes. Sawyer twisted my hands so that they were behind my back. I could hear the cinching as the thick zip tie was secured around my wrists. He cinched them too tight, pinching my skin, and leaving my wrists throbbing.

“Ahh.” I winced through gritted teeth.

Feeling his breath through the hood, smelling his foul stench, I knew he was only inches away from me. In a hushed, sinister voice, Sawyer said, “I’ll get what I want, just you wait.” His words lingered, uninvited and threatening. I hadn’t the faintest idea what he meant.

“You’re a fucken pig.” I threw my shoulder back into him, but he must have moved at the right time because I drove myself into the wall. Without my hands to intervene, or a way to see where I was going, there was no way to slow down. No way to stop the momentum and my bruised shoulder took the impact, making me scream out in pain.

He started laughing, “You see boys—she’s got some wild in her!”

The men started bantering back and forth. I recognized one of them when they came in; he stood watch outside my door and escorted me to Hart’s office only hours ago. Even though I didn’t recognize the other two, I’ll never forget their voices. The farthest from me by the sound of it, had a raw, raspy laugh that gave me the impression his lungs were filled with fluid making me wonder just how many packs of cigarettes did you have to smoke a day to sound like that?

The other one had such a hysterical, almost whimsical laugh that was even more disturbing to listen too. His voice reminded me of the clowns at the carnival—creepy, and obnoxious. As he laughed again, a shiver ran down my back.

There were four of them in total, Sawyer, my guard, and the two others I didn’t recognize. All of them seemed to be as fucked up as their ringleader, Sawyer. I bet they followed him around like lost puppies.

With a quick jerk, Sawyer pulled me upright and pushed me forward, causing me to stumble on my feet. I hated how they constantly pushed me around, tossing me to and fro like a ragdoll. I was a fucken human being!

They threw me from one set of hands to the next, spinning me around and around. Hands reached out and grabbed every part of my body. My chest, my ass, nothing had been off limits to them .

One of the men loudly slapped me across the face as another one grabbed my chest, squeezing harshly, my tender boobs begging to be left alone. They laughed and snickered as they groped my body.

“You deserve so much more for what you did. You’ll pay for it. Don’t you worry.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” There was another voice I recognized—it was the Captain. I still couldn’t see what was happening, but I could hear his heavy footsteps approaching. They were angry and quick, purposeful as his boots hit the solid floor.

Almost instantly, the atmosphere around me had shifted from playful banter to a chilling obedience. No one reached out for me or grabbed me, and I wasn’t being spun around anymore. Finally, with a second to reconfigure myself, I took a few deep breaths and tried to steady my dizzying uneasiness.

“All of you, report to my office immediately!” The Captain’s loud voice rang throughout the hallway, echoing. I half expected them to leave, but no one moved, frozen in place. I heard no retreating footsteps.

“What’s the matter with you? Go!” He yelled.

And just like that, I could tell Sawyer was moving away from me. The foul smell associated with him was dissipating as I heard the clatter of boots walking away.

I was still wobbly, unsure of where I was standing, just that it was barely outside my room. Taking a few steps backward, I found the wall and leaned into it to rest.

I knew the Captain was still there; I could hear his breathing. Imagining his large chest rising and falling, I pictured him in my mind, standing there, waiting. To my surprise, he let me catch my breath but did not make any indication he was going to remove the hood.

After a moment, I heard him approach. “Come on,” he sighed.

The Captain gently pulled me away from the wall, pausing for a moment to let me get my footing. We walked in silence, and I was thankful he kept to my pace. I was hesitant to walk, not knowing where I was going, but it was easier knowing that he was there to keep me from falling flat on my face.

In my mind I was making a mental note of the turns we were taking, trying to associate myself with the layout of the house, but the farther we went, the more I realized the sheer size of the place, and I had only discovered a portion of it—a very small portion. I was soon lost.

My nerves were getting the best of me, as we approached, my heart beat faster, my breathing quickened, and I wanted nothing more than to pull away from his grip.

“Don’t.” It was all he said. Crisp, clear, a warning. Could he see how bad I wanted to bolt?

I fidgeted some more with the makeshift cuffs, but they were secured tightly.

The Captain pulled me back slightly, halting me in my tracks. I heard a door unlock, and then he guided me down a few steps. And then I felt it, a small breeze; the air was warm and filled with moisture. I could smell the sea, and I knew we were outside.

Overwhelmed with sounds of birds and the water off in a far distance, I wanted so desperately to see where we were. The sun was high and full of heat, my skin instantly warming under its powerful rays. The terrain under my feet started out soft, and the tips of hundreds of tiny blades of grass tickled the tops of my feet where my shoes didn’t quite cover, but the farther we walked, the rougher the terrain became. The grass soon turned into dry patches, and then sand and rocks. He held onto me tightly as we hiked up a small uneven path.

I hadn’t been outside since the night they took me, and now, I feared I was on my way to my death.

As soon as the realization hit me, I wanted to bolt, and I suspect the Captain knew that too. His grip around my arm became increasingly tighter, and he pulled me closer into him as we moved. We walked forever, it seemed. The farther we went, the warmer the air grew. I could feel the dampness in the air as I breathed in, the humidity clinging to my skin instantly.

Before long, I couldn’t feel the sun on my skin anymore. The heat was still there, if not more powerful, but the feeling of sunlight on my skin was gone. We slowed. “Watch your step.” I felt his large hand reach down, his touch grazing the skin just above my knee as he guided my leg up and over the unseen obstacle.

Immediately everything changed. My hearing was overwhelmed with echoes and vibrations. Each footstep was followed by another imitation. Every sound created was followed with reverberations that bounced off the walls. My instinct was to cover my ears, to shelter them from the repeated onslaught of clinks and pings, but I couldn’t.

The Captain moved me into the room a little further, and gave me a gentle nudge, telling me where to stop. I could feel him as he moved alongside my body. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he turned me a half turn, so that I was directly in front of him.

With every sound echoing off the walls, it was hard to distinguish which sound belonged to what. It was impossible to know what the Captain was doing, but it sounded like he was fidgeting with something.

My heart sped up faster.

I wanted to bolt. I wanted to run for the fucken hills and never look back. I wanted to be rid of this place and these monsters.

My mind raced, unsure of what was going to happen, the possibilities surfaced to the forefront of my mind, making it harder to calm my breathing.

“Don’t move,” the Captain whispered.

I nodded that I understood, but I struggled with the simple task. Making my lungs inhale was harder than it should have been. I was sure I was hyperventilating, but I nodded anyway. What else could I have done?

I focused on taking a deep breath in and slowly releasing it, back out. With each breath in and out, the fear of what might happen slowly started to move to the back of my mind as my thoughts focused on the simple act of breathing. Such an elementary task, and yet here I was putting all of my concentration into it.

On the third exhale, I felt something being placed around my neck and then an unmistakable click , securing it in place. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was thick and heavy, tight against the bony parts of my neck; I wanted it off. I heard no chain rattle and felt no tether, so instinctively I pushed myself away from the Captain, but he caught me equally as quickly.

“Hey now—easy,” he said.

Bracing my upper arms, he pulled me back toward him, but before I could react, we were interrupted. “I’ll take it from here.”

Once more, my ears were bombarded with the concoction of Hart’s words, the Captain’s footsteps as he left, and the loud thud as the door was sealed shut.

Several moments went by as I waited for the reverberations to quiet down, slowly, one repetition after the other, the noise began to soften until all I could hear was the sound of my own beating heart.

The air was warmer here, still damp but there was hardly any air flow. Just a thick muggy layer of humidity, ready to cling to my skin. I was confused. What was happening?

Suddenly I heard his footsteps, steady, rhythmic, sending strong echoes throughout the space as he moved. I was impossible to tell where he was coming from. Was he in front of me, or behind? I couldn’t pinpoint his location.

I jumped when he spoke. “I’m going to remove the cuffs,” he said, his voice unreadable. He was only a foot or so in front of me, or so I thought. I nodded because no matter how strong I wanted to be, I couldn’t find my voice. I heard the metal flip of a switchblade and then felt the blade press against my skin. Before I could react, he made two quick swipes, breaking the bindings and leaving me unscathed .

With my eyesight impaired, my other senses seemed to awaken, more amplified than before. It was hard to hear with the echoes, but I could smell his cologne ever so faintly, one second it was there and the next it was gone as if the scent itself was being weighed down by the thick humidity.

Without warning, he pulled the hood from my eyes in one quick motion, leaving me to struggle with adjusting to the light and take in my surroundings.

At first, I only noticed him. He was still wearing the thin white dress shirt without its tie. He looked agitated; the top two buttons of his collar had been undone, revealing a devilishly tanned chest. He had since rolled up his sleeves, showcasing his muscular forearms and the fresh cut wound. I couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten it.

Even he couldn’t get away from the heat, the humidity was clinging to his skin as it did mine. Beads of moisture were already starting to form on his brow.

Just then, I noticed it. The dried red substance on his hands and wrists, the reddish-brown smudge on the bottom of his shirt. There was no denying it. Blood.

His hair was disheveled, ruffled from running his hands through it so much. It was only then that I recognized the same primal look that I had seen earlier. If I stared any more, I was sure I would see the gates of hell opening up. I turned away, not out of fear of what I’d see, but that I was afraid he’d see right through me.

We were standing in the most unusual place. Honestly, I wasn’t sure where we were.

The walls were made of an old, metal steel of some sort, aged so badly over the years that the rivets placed at equal intervals throughout had rusted and left stains running down the wall’s surface. There were scrapes in the military green paint where rust had easily set, and dents scattered about.

Turning my head, I scanned the area. It wasn’t a particularly large space, maybe twenty by twenty feet, but the ceiling was unnaturally tall. As I looked up, I wasn’t even sure if I could see the ceiling. Someone had installed lights farther up, but only one of the eight lights were on. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were all broken. It wouldn’t surprise me.

Hart moved around me, pulling my attention away. I followed his line of sight, and that’s when I saw it. Below my feet was a perfectly round red circle about twelve inches across painted on the floor. I wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t been for Hart’s downward glance.

Cautiously, I raised my foot up, revealing half of the circle.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Hart warned, shaking his head.

But I ignored him, stepping back and outside of the marker’s boundaries.

Immediately, I was met with a shock originating from the collar, sending a wave of discomfort down my spine. My hands flew to the metal band around my neck, determining it was what had created the electric pulse.

As if on cue, the collar started beeping. Once.

“Back in the circle,” he quipped.

I didn’t know what was going to happen if I didn’t, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out, but before I could land my feet on the dot, the collar beeped a third time. Another pulse of electricity was sent out, slightly stronger than the last. It wasn’t painful but incredibly uncomfortable.

Hastily, I planted both feet on the red dot in front of me, and to my relief, the collar stopped beeping. Without realizing I had been holding my breath, I released a heavy sigh.

“I did warn you,” Hart said, “but you seem to have a habit of not listening.” His voice was level toned, matter of fact.

“You put a shock collar on me?” I turned to Hart, my eyes suddenly appalled and angry. I couldn’t believe it. What kind of person does that? “I’m not a fucken dog.”

“No, a dog is far more obedient.”

If only he knew how much this made me want to bite back .

His head tilted, amused at my sudden outburst. “So now that I have your attention, let’s get started.” He moved slowly, pacing in a large circle around me, like an animal stalking his prey, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. “That red dot is your safety zone. Step off of it, and well, you know what happens.” Pausing, we both looked down at the circle. “The farther away from that safety zone you move, the stronger the pulse, the faster the frequency. Stay within the safety zone, and we have no issues.”

I watched as he walked over to the door, pulled the latch up, and gave it a shove. The door squeaked on rusted hinges, but it pivoted open. The space was filled with natural light, making it easier to see the filth around the room. He turned to me, our gaze catching each other’s. In his eyes, I could see the curiosity, the danger that lurked, the dominance. He was challenging me.

Hart continued, his voice almost taunting. “You’re probably wondering if you can make through that door before the shockwave hits you, and you succumb to the pain.”

He watched me intently, studying my face, determining whether or not I was going to bolt. And he was right. I was already thinking about sprinting the short distance to the door. How bad could it get?

It was only ten feet or so.

I waited until he had taken a few more steps away from the door, to give me a clearer escape path and then I went for it. I launched myself forward, sprinting as fast as I could.

The second I stepped off the dot I was met with an immediate shock. The wave of electricity amplified further as each foot fell farther and farther away from the red circle. I was only a few feet from the center of the room, and my body was shaking, convulsing with electrical currents. My nerves were being fired upon, pain rocketing through my body in levels I had never experienced before.

The pulse continued, wave after wave rippled through every fiber of my body. I tried to breathe, my lungs never fully inhaling, but all I could do was writhe in pain. I knew only a second or two had passed since I had stepped out of the safety zone, but it felt like there was no end in sight. And I was still five feet away from the exit.

My knees grew weak and unsteady, my muscles no longer strong enough to support the weight of my body. I fell to the ground, my hands and knees bracing me as I yelled out in pain, the screams echoing across the room. It was when I collapsed and ceased moving toward the door, that the collar’s alarm started sounding again, but unlike last time, the beeping was louder, faster.

One. Two. Three. Quick, repetitive. And as soon as the device started beeping its warning, it stopped, and I was forced to endure another wave of nauseating pain. My fingernails dug into the dirt and grime that covered the ground as every muscle in my body locked, contracting in spasms. I screamed for it to stop, my voice bellowing out my only breath in-between the pulsing currents. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, the beeping started again.

As the panicked state started to settle in, I fell backward.

Awkwardly crawling as quickly as I could, I rushed back to the safety zone.

I waited for the third beep, but it never came.

Relief washed over me as the collar started to calm down, and there was no repeating wave of overwhelming pain. My breathing became erratic as I shocked my system with the newfound oxygen. With shaky legs, I pulled myself up off the floor, mindful of not stepping out of the safety zone.

I had only made it a few feet before defeat.

When I had caught my breath, I turned to find Hart leaning against the farthest wall from the door, watching the entire ordeal like it was his nightly entertainment. His crisp, clean white shirt pressed into the dirty, rusted wall. I glared at him from across the room, hoping he could see the hatred in my eyes.

“Are you done?” he asked .

I took a deep breath in as I realized, there was no way out of this. Charlotte was right. He was going to break me, and I was ultimately at the disadvantage. He knew what he was doing, he’d done this before, I could see it in the way he studied me, the way he moved around the room, comfortable in his own turf. Just how many women had he dragged in here, how many times had he open that door? How many times had his victims fallen into his trap?

This man was going to break me, and in order to survive, I had to face the beast head-on. Or rather, the devil himself. As if he could hear my thoughts, a wicked grin flashed across his face.

“I’m waiting,” he calmly said.

I rolled my eyes, without realizing that I had until I saw the spark of anger cross his face, but he said nothing, just stood there, waiting to pounce.

After several moments he pushed off the wall and began pacing around me. I waited for him to say something, but he remained silent.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t sit back and let him torture me. He was walking all over me, and I was letting him. I finally spoke up, a word falling in between each shaky breath, “What… the… fuck… do you want… with me?”

He took a few more steps, never looking away from me, his gaze powerful enough to bore holes right through me. His eyes were full of anger and intimidation. Something had happened.

“My world has turned to chaos since we crossed paths. I want to know why,” he said, finally stopping a few feet in front of me.

I didn’t understand. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said, my voice breaking.

“Don’t lie to me.” He turned on his heel, circling me. He was agitated and uneasy, he wouldn’t stop moving. “Tell me what I want to know, answer my questions, and the quicker this will be over.”

“I don’t know why I’m here!” I screamed .

“Oh, but I think you do.” In a few quick and smooth strides, he was in front of me, grabbing my cheeks and pulling my eyes up to him. “Tell me,” he said, his words meant to chill me to the bone, to make me fearful but for the first time since I had met this man, I wasn’t the one with fear in my eyes.

“Don’t even start with me.” I spat in his face. “For days now, you have pushed me around, locked me in a cell, strung me up in your rafters, and whipped me. I haven’t got the damnest idea what you’re talking about, and I’m done playing your games. Fuck you and your mind games.” My lips slowly curled up in a daring grin as I realized how good the words felt leaving my lips, “Fuck you.”

I couldn’t believe how bold I was being. The old me, the one before Hart dragged me into hell, rarely cursed, or told someone where to stick it, but I was done. Done being manipulated.

He chuckled, amused at my level of audacity, but somehow, he wasn’t surprised. “I knew you’d have trouble with this one.” Reaching into his pocket, he slowly pulled out a small black fob, making sure that I could see exactly what it was.

“Let’s try that again,” he said, the threat heavy in his voice.

“Suit yourself. I see we are going to have to do this the hard way.” He pressed the button on the key fob, and I was met with another electric shock that coursed through my body despite being in the safe zone.

Through gritted teeth, I fought back the urge to cry out, but no matter how hard I tried to suppress the need, I couldn’t hold it back. “Ahhh!” The pulse continued until he released the button, and immediately, the wave subsided. Again, my legs weakened, but I remained upright. Barely .

“You think I am holding all of the cards right now, but you’re wrong,” he said, “You have the power to make all of this stop right now. All you have to do is tell me what I want to know. It really is that simple.”

But at what cost? I straightened my spine and met his glare. Maybe I was wrong, but I couldn’t help but notice something strange in the way he looked at me in that moment. It was subtle, and it was quick, gone as soon as I saw it. A confliction, perhaps? How could he stand there, willingly hurt me but then wish he hadn’t? Did he even feel remorse?

“Why McNeil?” he asked.

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded. “Who?”

“Don’t play coy with me.” He pressed the button again, sending another powerful jolt through my body.

“Go to hell,” I snapped as the current stopped.

Without warning, he pressed the fob again, and my hands flew instinctively to the collar around my neck, hoping I could pull it away somehow. I fell to one knee, writhing in pain while he held the button steady. “There you go again, just answer the question.” After another long pause, he finally released the button, and the pain slowly began to dissipate.

“I really don’t want to hurt you,” he continued. There was some truth to his words, at least I thought, I recognized a spark of sincerity in his voice.

My words were weak already, my body fighting the exhaustion. “Then don’t. You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded.

His chest rose high as he took a deep breath in and exhaled, disappointment heavy on his breath. “That’s not how this works, and you know it.” Shaking his head, he asked, “Answer me. Why McNeil? Who are you working for? How did you do it?” I stared at him blankly, not understanding a word he was saying as if he was speaking in a foreign tongue. “How did you infiltrate my security team?” He asked, his voice grew angrier and angrier with each question.

I didn’t understand what he meant. He had to know that; he had to see the puzzled look on my face .

“I don’t understand,” I said, not having the strength to look at him. “I don’t know what you think I did, but I don’t work for anyone, and I don’t know a McNeil. You have to know that! I’ve been locked up since you took me.” My voice grew in volume as I found the will to look up at him. None of this would have ever happened if he hadn’t taken me that night. “You shouldn’t have taken me!” I screamed at him.

He pressed the button, holding it there as I cried out in pain. The current was getting stronger; he was amping up the voltage. Waves of electricity were traveling down my spine, sending the shock to every inch of my body. My muscles had already been attacked by the current, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it. I fell to my knees, with one hand out and the other around my neck, I barely stopped myself from crashing into the ground.

And then it was over.

I could hear his footsteps as he maneuvered around me, declaring his dominance, his power with every stride he took. All I could see were his immaculately shined shoes as he circled me like a vulture.

“You fucking monster!” I screamed, placing both hands on the ground to steady myself.

I was losing the fight, and he knew it. All he had to do was push that button, and I was in a world of hurt.

Again, he triggered the collar.

“Ahhhh!” I screamed through gritted teeth. Another wave coursed through my body, shaking me to the bone.

I didn’t know how much more of the perpetual beatings I could take.

“You can make this stop,” he said, his voice smooth. I just had to tell him what he wanted to hear. “Who are you working with?” He asked.

The more he pushed me, the more I wanted to push back. What did I have to lose? I was already a prisoner, trapped in a godforsaken hellhole. The way I saw it, there were only two things I had at the moment, and one of those was my life. The second was my ability to hold on to my free will as long as I could. And even then, I wasn’t sure which one was worth more. He could take my submission, but then was it worth living? And if he took my life, then at least I’d die knowing I didn’t give the man what he wanted.

My hands were covered in soot and filth, my knees already scraped from the rough concrete below. My heart was beating erratically, my chest aching with each inhale, forcing me to take shallow breaths. My hair had fallen around me, sheltering me from his view.

“Answer me,” his tone was chilling, demanding.

I looked up at him, my hair parting just enough so that I could meet his stare. His eyes were lost, full of anguish and hate, not the impassive, calm, and collected Hart I had always seen. It was disturbing how he seemed so unraveled and yet still in complete control.

He didn’t break away from my glare. I watched as he pulled something small from his pocket and threw it down into the dirt in front of me. For some inexplicable reason, I thought whatever he was retrieving might have given me some insight into what was happening, but it only brought down a tidal wave of new questions. Before me was a single photo folded in four, the image somewhat hidden under a still wet vibrant layer of blood was my face.

When I didn’t instantly know why he had pulled a blood-covered photo of me from his pocket, I looked up at him questioning.

I reached for the photo and carefully unfolded it, as it left a sticky trace of blood on my fingertips. Flipping it over, I revealed a hand-scribbled message, or rather—one word.

Hidden beneath the blood in black ink.

Through gritted teeth, Hart said. “Caleb McNeil, one of my men, was killed, only twenty minutes ago,” he said, as a way of explanation. “And that,” he gestured to the photo, “was found in his pocket.” That explained why it was covered in blood, why Hart was too, but I hadn’t the faintest clue as to why it was there in the first place.

“You can’t think—.”

He cut me off. “Oh, I don’t. You were still in my office when this happened. A perfect alibi,” he said, accusing me of orchestrating some higher workings of cold-blooded murder.

Shaking my head in disbelief, “I don’t know anything.” I said, my voice sincere and level. Suddenly, it all started to make sense. Why he had dragged me here; why he was so agitated?

Without another word, one last powerful volt coursed through my already weak body. The shock was more powerful than all the others, so painful I thought I could feel my skin burning where the prods in the collar came into contact. The room filled with my screams of agony as my body convulsed and collapsed on the floor.