Chapter Thirty-Nine
DARK. THE KIND of dark that eats sound and keeps it, grey and thick behind my lids. You’d think having been trapped in darkness before would blunt it, but my palms were ice on my knees; the bars hummed under my fingertips. I was terrified.
Footsteps—slow, a measured scrape of leather on concrete—cut through the dark like a promise.
He moved like the predator he enjoyed being, excited at what he knew he’d get to do.
My throat closed. My whole body tightened at the memory of what he’d done to others, the way he stayed calm while they screamed. Especially the women. God.
The door clicked. Light from the corridor slashed the floor into thin bars and his shadow slid in after it. He watched me like a man inspecting a watch, patient because he knew he could wait me out.
“You awake, puppy?” His voice slid like oil. He clicked the cage open. “Ready to tell me the good stuff?”
He yanked my hair and hauled me up. Movement blurred, his arm at my waist, the rough tug, and I was pulled out. My breath came short and useless. I twisted, tried to wrench free, but he was too strong.
Close enough now, I saw the little scars on his cheek, the way his mouth smoothed before the teeth showed. He leaned in and nipped my ear causing me to tremble in fear, because I knew what would happen next—rape. “Talk,” he breathed.
“Bones!” The name sounded raw and tired, and I recognized it instantly. “Let her go!”
Dusty filled the doorway. For a second I didn’t know if I should be relieved. He held a gun with one arm extended, aiming straight at Bones.
Bones loosened his grip on me just enough to cock his head and smile. “Look who’s late to his own confession,” he said. “You think you scare me? We had a deal.”
Dusty’s voice came out ragged. “Get away from her.” He tried to sound unshakable and failed.
“You don’t get to—” The words broke. “You forced me, Bones. You said if I didn’t—if I didn’t run right and give you what you wanted—you’d burn every tree in my life.
My kids. My grandchildren. I— I don’t have it in me to keep doing this. ”
He looked so small, old, hollowed like something picked clean. The confession fit in the room like a new truth: Dusty had helped. Part of me hoped I was wrong.
Bones laughed, slow and mean. “Honesty. A rare spice.” He took one step forward, the kind that sealed deals. “You left something out old man. You played rat to settle a gambling debt. Either I kill you or your club will.”
Dusty’s fingers whitened on the gun. “I’m here to fix it,” he said. The words cut like effort. “I can’t live knowing I helped hurt an innocent.” He choked on the rest.
The quiet pressed in; Dusty didn’t stand a chance against a man like Bones. What was he thinking?
Bones’ smile thinned. “You want to fix it?” he purred. “How noble. Too bad your try had nothing to give.” He moved on Dusty like a shadow made solid.
The gun didn’t fire from Dusty’s hand, something quick and hard cracked the air. A wet, punched sound cut through, the sound of breath left too fast. Dusty staggered; the gun clattered away.
Bones was practiced brutality, fast, economical.
He gripped my wrist and pinned Dusty to the concrete with a knee, then struck him with the blunt, efficient force of a man who made violence a habit.
Dusty folded, cheek to the floor. Bones grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the shadowed corner like trash.
The older man landed in a heap. The gun skittered out of reach. Blood bloomed slow at his temple. He didn’t move; he was out before his head hit concrete fully, like someone had turned a lamp off.
Bones let him lie. The room spun around me, and I wanted to vomit. He turned back to me with that grin that never quite reached his eyes.
“You see, puppy?” His tone was soft, almost tender. “People have debts. They pay how they can. Some with their lives, others with the lives of everything they love. Choice is a funny thing.”
Panic lit me raw. My fingernails dug into my hand. Inside, one truth burned ridiculous and fierce, Ashen will come. I whispered it into my bones like a prayer.
Bones reached out, a single finger under my chin, lifting it with velvet control.
“You’ll talk,” he promised, as he shoved me against the wall, his hands touching me in a way that made we want to puke.
“I’ll fuck you over and over, and each time meaner, until you’re not even able to tell me to stop. ”
Tears slid down my face in defeat, I had witnessed enough to know he wasn’t lying.