Chapter Eighty-Six
Asher
Phil and Jay burst into the room only minutes after Voss leaves. Heavy footsteps that send adrenaline flooding into muscles pushed so far past exhaustion, I’m no longer sure I can stand on my own.
In under a minute, they have my face pressed to the wall, hands cuffed high over my head. My thumbs lose all sensation, but I can still feel the edges of the folded note clutched in my right hand.
I’ve been here before. Four—five?—times over the past however-many hours. You’d think they’d mix it up a bit more. A different wall? A different room? Some variety.
Apparently, GSD’s interrogation methodology doesn’t leave much room for creative expression.
Phil starts. He always starts. “Where is she?”
I don’t give them anything. I’m definitely not going to answer this one. Ever. And they should know that by now.
Jay’s fist slams into my right side. The pain is nothing but background noise now. Predictable, constant background noise.
“How many people have copies of what she released?” Phil asks. His voice has lost all illusion of calm. I try to shift my weight. The resulting calf cramp feels like someone’s ripping the muscle in two.
“How. Many,” Jay growls, a sudden spike of pressure hitting the gash in my side.
“Enough.” Every word—every syllable—is rougher. Harder. My throat doesn’t want to work anymore.
“What is she holding back?” Phil again.
The concrete is cool under my cheek. I can’t tell if I’m hot or cold anymore. “The thing…that…” I have to breathe. To focus. “That ends you.”
Jay’s elbow finds my ribs. I lose several seconds. I know because it doesn’t hurt anymore when I come back.
“He’s talking,” Jay says, confused.
Phil snorts. “He’s out of options. We’re not stopping.” The chair scrapes. Closer now. “What does the redaction mean?”
Raine redacted something? Something significant. Something that has Phil riled—
I lose the thread.
When I find it again, I’m on my knees. Wrists locked to the hasp in the floor. How did I get—?
“What does the redaction mean?” Jay grits out.
“It means…” I try to work it out. Raine. Her logic. What she’d do. “She’s giving you…a choice.” The rest surfaces slowly. “You’re too…arrogant…to take it.”
Phil goes quiet. I can’t tell if I got it right. It doesn’t matter. She had a reason. She always has a reason.
“What was the last thing she said to you?” he asks.
I reach for it. Not to tell them. Because I need it. I need to hear her voice in my head. The words…I’ve lost the words—
Jay hits me. A punch that snaps my head to the side. My body follows, shoulder slamming into concrete.
He yanks me back to my knees.
The room tilts. Then steadies.
Jay’s waiting for me to go down again.
Not yet.
Phil turns his chair toward me. Leans forward, elbows on his knees. “What is she prepared to sacrifice to finish this?”
I close my eyes. Try to see Raine’s smile. The very first one. Fading now. Everything’s…fading.
Fuck. I want that future we talked about. I want—her.
Jay’s footsteps get closer. Can’t let him hit me again. Can’t.
“More…than you think,” I manage. Have to breathe to get the rest out. Make my lungs work. They don’t want to. “Less than you’re hoping for.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Jay grabs a fistful of my hair and hauls my head up until I have no choice but to meet his gaze.
“She doesn’t stop.” The smile isn’t forced. It’s lopsided. Probably ugly. Don’t care. “S’all you need…to know.”
The door opens, and Jay lets go of my hair. Staying upright is a significant achievement. Phil gets to his feet, and the two step back.
Fuck. Voss.
“Mr. Locke, I have one question,” Voss says. His voice is different now. Rougher at the edges. “Was this her plan from the beginning? From the moment you took her from the facility?”
I don’t have to think about the answer. Don’t have to hide it either.
“Yes. It was.”
Voss doesn’t respond for so long, Phil and Jay shift on their feet. When he does, he’s close enough his cologne catches in my throat.
“She loves you. Once she sees your condition, she’ll come in. And then she’ll lose everything.”
It takes a moment to find my next words. But they’re the truest thing I’ve ever said.
“She won’t…come in, because…she loves me.” I pause, lift my head a fraction so he can see my eyes. “And she’s already won.”
No one moves. I find one last thing to say. It costs what little I have left. But it’s worth it.
“For the smartest man in the room”—my voice gives out. I force it to come back—“you really didn’t see her coming?”
Voss goes very still.
It’s worse than anything that’s happened since they took me. The shape of what’s coming lives in that stillness. And it’s bad.
He leans close to Jay and says something too quiet to catch. Then strides out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Phil turns his tablet face down on the table.
They’re done asking questions.