“You and your team,” he began, stretching out each word, “The DPP. Put away my nephew last year over a fucking drug possession charge. He would’ve been twenty this month, had he not been knifed to death over a fucking phone call inside.”
I remembered. He’d been caught red-handed with nearly two kilos of heroin in a stolen car. And then pleaded not guilty. I laughed. Was he seriously pissed at me for doing my job?
His fist came out of nowhere, connecting with my left eye. Pain throbbed through my face as he grabbed hold of my tee shirt, ripping it open. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head to the side, the scalpel positioned under my chin.
“You want to keep laughing, whore?” he challenged. Tears stung my eyes. He smiled. “That’s better, bitch. Show a little more respect to the man calling the shots here, okay?”
Luke stepped back, wiping his forehead. He waved his arm at me.
“Get her clothes off and get her on the table. Leave her underwear on.”
Hands came at me from behind as the thug tore what remained of my tee off over my arms. He reached down and yanked my sweats off, pushing me forward. I struggled to keep my balance, my arms closing over my chest, trying to cover as much of myself up as possible.
I baulked as his thick, rough fingers enveloped me, hoisting me up onto the table. He reached into his pocket and produced a pair of handcuffs, which he looped around a loop at the head of the table, cuffing my wrists into place over my head.
I stared at the ceiling, my breathing erratic as my heart pounded in my chest. It was like a bad dream. It didn’t feel real. Please let me wake up. Please, someone help me.
“Do you know what the funny thing is?” he asked, laughing. “I had no idea of your connection to Mace until you landed on my doorstep.”
He shook his head as he approached me, his fingers running over my bra, and down over my stomach as I tried to cower away.
“I kind of feel like I’ve won the lottery with you, little Leeta.”
I stiffened as his fingers dipped under my bra, his fingers rolling over my nipple. I fought to keep my expression empty, as if nothing he did affected me. Don’t give in. Don’t give him what he wants.
“Now, you’ll be happy to know that your little boyfriend is still alive. I didn’t want him missing the show.”
My eyes darted to the door as it flew open. Mace. Oh God, what have they done to him?
His face was almost unrecognizable. Covered in blood, his eye was swollen shut, and a deep purple in colour. His once white shirt was now soaked with b
lood. He looked broken. Defeated. A man—the one who’d taken me from the car—shoved him into the corner, laughing as he all but collapsed to the floor. A low groan was the only indication that he was still alive.
They are going to torture me and make him watch. And then they were going to kill him.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I stared above me.
“Turn the cameras on,” Luke voice ordered. “Are you there, Dan, Clark and Percy? Congratulations, this is your prize.” He pointed to me. “Sexy huh? She’s a little fighter too.” He laughed. “We’re going to run things a bit differently tonight. I’m playing, but you three get to watch.”
He grinned as he appeared over me, his fingers roaming over my stomach. I breathed in sharply, refusing to give him the fear I knew he wanted. His eyes narrowed. Reaching forward, he grabbed my bra and tore it off my chest.
I gasped as the elastic from the band burned into my skin, pain searing through me.
“Now the tough decisions,” he muttered. “Do I blindfold you or let you watch?”
He turned around. The sound of metal rustling filled my ears as he fiddled with the contents on the trolley.
Turning back, he smiled, his hand moving toward my breast. I stared at the ceiling, focusing on a tiny black dot that could have been an insect, or maybe a spec of chipped paint.
I inhaled as his fingers grasped my nipple. He rolled it between his fingers, squeezing them together as pain rushed through me.
“Come on, Leeta. You know I need more than that,” he chuckled. “These lovely men are paying top dollar. Don’t you want to give them their monies worth?”
He picked up a small, thin-bladed knife and traced circles around my hard nipple, threatening to cut through the skin.
Don’t touch me. I held my breath as he lowered his head, his mouth closing over my breast, his hands all over me.
“Ahh,” I cried out, shutting my eyes as he bit down on my nipple. I felt sick as he sucked, his hand moving dangerously south. A sob escaped me as he slid a finger inside of me. I can’t handle this.