Dawn of Forever (Jack & Jill 3)

“Oh my … this is not good.”

“Jessica! Goddammit! Stop it!”

Irene. Luke.

Her eyes fought to open. Her teeth chattered. Voices echoed. Jillian was tired or dead. “Is it over? Am I dead?” she whispered. She imagined a light. People talked about a light. Maybe there wasn’t a light where she was going.

“There she is.” Irene’s fucked-up face came to focus first. In her hands was an empty five-gallon bucket. “I fear we’re losing you. Five gallons of ice water on your naked body and not so much as a flinch.”

“Leave her the fuck alone.”

“Luke …”

“I’m here, baby.”

“She’s fine.”

Knox.

“She’s not fine.”

“Baby?” Irene cackled. “I’m pretty sure once you decided to fuck your sister’s physical therapist, you lost the right to call her baby. What was her name? Charlie?”

“Shut up, Irene.”

She glared at Knox. “Tape his mouth shut. It’s not his turn to speak.”

The guy in the baseball cap placed duct tape over Knox’s mouth. Knox gave him the you-will-die look. Jessica had seen it many times before.

“Now where were we? Oh yes, I think we were talking about Charlie.”

Jillian met Luke’s eyes. She hated the guilt in them.

“It just so happens … I have some pictures of her.” Irene opened one of three large envelopes that sat on the table. She held up a photo of a woman with dark chin-length hair and blue eyes. “She’s quite attractive. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jillian stared at the photo, but didn’t say anything.

“I asked you a question. Do you need incentive to answer?” Irene nodded at her sidekick.

He pulled out a long knife, but not just any knife. It was identical to the one Four used on Claire. He took a step toward Luke.

“She’s stunning,” Jillian answered, looking at Luke.

His face tensed with pain.

Irene gave the cutter a nod and he stepped away from Luke. “What about this one?” She held up a photo of Luke and Charlie holding hands while taking Jones for a walk. They were both smiling. “How does he look?

Jillian watched the guy with the knife. His hand squeezed the handle.

“Happy,” Jillian said.

One rule: Luke lives.

“He does, doesn’t he? How do you think he looks here?”

She held up a photo of Luke kissing Charlie by the pier, his hands tangled in her hair, hers fisting the back of his shirt.

“Answer me.”

“Hungry.”

Luke wouldn’t look at her. It pissed her off. He had no reason to feel guilty, but the look on his face fed Irene’s desire to continue with her mind-fuck games.

“Hungry? I like that. I’d say from how far his tongue is in her mouth that he’s starving. Were you starving, Dr. Jones? Did your mouth devour every inch of her body?”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

Irene nodded to cutter guy, but he didn’t move toward Luke, he came at Jillian.

“No. No! Stop!” Luke’s eyes widened, his body wriggling against the restraints.

Jillian looked only at Luke. She didn’t flinch, not even a blink as the sharp tip of the knife pierced her skin on the swell of her breast. Blood oozed from the one-inch cut.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his neck to the side. She needed him to stay focused on her. She needed him to know that she was okay, the pain was hers to take and if it meant saving him, she could take absolutely anything.

“Dr. Jones, clearly you’re new to this game and not as experienced as Jessica—Jillian—whatever the hell you want to call her. Let’s review the rules: Don’t speak unless spoken to. Answer only the question asked. And be honest.” Irene tsked. “If you don’t master the rules soon, I fear your baby won’t last long. Understood?”

He nodded.

“I can’t hear you.”

The cutter stepped toward Jillian again.

“Yes.”

“That’s better. Now … sadly I don’t have any more photos of you and Charlie, but I do believe she flew out to Houston to be with you. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Now you’re getting the hang of it. Next question. I know my dear ex-husband spoiled your plans, but if my sources were correct, she was on her way to the hotel where you were staying. True?”

“Yes,” he answered through gritted teeth.

“Were you two going to share a room?”

He did it again … he diverted his eyes. Jillian silently begged him to not look away, to not give Irene anymore control.

“Yes.”

“And were you going to fuck her?”

Tears filled his eyes.

Jillian didn’t want him to answer, not for her, for him. She’d let them cut her … forty-four times if necessary to take away Luke’s pain.

“Look at her when you say it. It’s the only way she’ll know you’re telling her the truth.”

He met Jillian’s eyes, a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Yes.”

Irene faced Jillian. “How does that make you feel? And don’t lie. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

She searched Luke’s eyes for something more than pain and regret, but that’s all she could see. “Empathetic.”