Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
THEA
“You know, I thought something was familiar about you when we first met, Thea. At first, you could be any other girl I’ve taken under my wing.
” The innuendo in his voice makes my stomach churn.
“But then I realized two things. One: You’re much prettier than most girls I take in, which of course increased my interest in who you were.
And two: you have your brother’s eyes.” My blood runs cold then, breath locking, and my body goes deathly still. So he does know.
“His accident did cause a great deal of inconvenience. It was bad for business. My partner, Mr. West, is a high paying client and I couldn’t just let someone like him fall off the map for a simple mistake.”
“A simple mistake!” Nathan snaps. “He killed someone! And you just, you let him off the hook because of your sick fucking fantasies? It’s not a business.
It’s a crime. You’re all fucking corrupt criminals and I swear to god we will get you for this.
” He’s seething. His face is red and death is plastered all over it as he fights the restraints he is now in, in the chair across from me.
Meanwhile I can barely stomach what I’m hearing as he reduces my brother to a mistake. As if he was fallible, replaceable.
Harrison smiles then as he kneels down in front of Nathan. “Your tenacity is inspiring, I’ll admit. But it’s rooted in fallacy. Besides, that isn’t what we’re here to talk about.”
He’s cruel. The worst of the worst. Inflicting harm for the pure pleasure of it, and I can’t imagine what he does to the children he steals away. “You don’t get to talk about him like that.” My voice is so quiet that Harrison cocks his head at me without saying anything.
“You’ll have to speak up, dear.”
I steel myself and lift my head to meet his gaze. “I said, you don’t get to fucking talk about him like that.”
Harrison chuckles low and dark, a venomous undertone to the rumble.
“Now, let’s dispense with the theatrics and move on.
” He stands up. “I recently had an…asset, escape my clutches with something valuable. And not long after, I have you and your little takedown group show up at my front door, infiltrating my operations, which begs the question,” he finishes smoothly, eyes cutting between Nathan and me, “did you follow her, or did she find you?”
My pulse stutters at the implication and the very real threat that’s laced under his monotonous tone.
“She was clever,” he says, almost fondly.
“Resourceful. Loyal right up until the moment she wasn’t.
” His mouth twists. “I don’t begrudge her for the escape of course; ambition should always be rewarded. ”
Nathan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take the bait.
“What I do begrudge,” Harrison continues, “is the little souvenir she took with her. A USB drive. Encrypted, of course. But encryption only buys time, and time is something I usually have in abundance.”
He stops directly in front of me. “Until now.”
My stomach drops. He knows the timing is wrong. He knows the pressure is external. “And then,” he says lightly, a hand stroking my jaw, “you arrive. A group with just
enough reach to be inconvenient. Just enough precision to be dangerous. A group that doesn’t move like law enforcement or panic like amateurs.” His gaze cuts to Nathan. “And you certainly don’t throw away an operation unless there’s something, or someone, worth burning it for.”
The pieces click together in his mind—I can almost see it happening.
“Yes, you’ve embedded yourself far closer to my operations than any outsider should ever manage.
So it either means you’re protecting someone not in this room, or this is simply a lucky coincidence.
Unfortunately for you I don’t believe in coincidences.
I need to know whether Claire ran to you, or whether you were already watching me when she ran. ”
Nathan finally speaks, voice measured, and I internally beg him to do the right thing. He’s here because he’s willing to risk everything for me, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive him if he threw Claire under the bus. She’s only a child. “You’re giving yourself too much credit.”
Harrison grins. “Am I?”
He gestures, and one of the guards steps behind me, pulling my hair, grabbing it roughly and holding a knife to the side of my face. I can see the moment Nathan stops breathing.
“If she came to you,” Harrison continues, “then you already have what she stole. Which means I have a problem that requires immediate attention.” His eyes sharpen. “But if she didn’t—if she’s still out there alone—then I have a different problem. One I plan to solve very creatively.”
My throat tightens. Claire isn’t here. She’s safe with Dylan. And Harrison is trying to decide which leverage hurts more.
“You see,” he says, “either you tell me how you found me and who sent you, or I assume the worst.” His gaze locks onto mine, calculating and cruel.
“And I start pulling threads until something screams.” He nods and the guard starts to carve the knife into my face, dragging it from the corner of my left eye down to my chin.
I cry out as blood swells and Nathan lunges forward in his seat.
“Stop! Fucking stop it!”
Harrison exhales slowly as the guard readjusts the knife to my forehead, prepared for his next command. “Tick tock,” he murmurs. “Every second you stay silent makes this uglier for everyone involved.”
The threat hangs heavy in the air. Not just for us, but for Claire, for the children still trapped in his network, for every truth he’s desperate to keep buried.
But that’s the moment I realize something.
He’s not interrogating us because he’s powerful. He’s interrogating us because for the first time, he’s scared. As he studies us, his expression shifts, his annoyance becoming visible. “Still nothing,” he says quietly. “Interesting. And here you promised me answers.”
“And I told you if you touched her again you wouldn’t get them,” Nathan says.
“You know what uncertainty does to men like me?” he asks. “It irritates. And irritation leads to mistakes, something I don’t make. You think I don’t know what that drive contains?” He walks behind me, moving his guard out of the way and my spine locks. “Shipping routes.
Payment shells. Names—some of which would surprise you. Some of which would disappoint you. Targets. Locations.”
Nathan inhales sharply, just once. I know that sound. He’s angry, but he’s also thinking. “I don’t care who you think you’re protecting. A girl who ran. A handler who pointed
you in my direction. A faceless agency hiding behind clean hands.” He leans forward, his voice dropping and his breath heavy on my ear. “I will find out, and then I will find them. The only question is how much collateral I collect along the way.”
He straightens and gestures again. This time, two guards step forward and grab my chair, hauling it a few feet away from Nathan’s. Not far. Just far enough.
“No,” Nathan snaps, straining against his restraints. “You said you wouldn’t—”
“I said no such thing,” Harrison replies snidely. “I said I don’t like violence. Separation, however, is a management tool.”
My heart slams against my ribs as the space between us widens. It’s small, insignificant to anyone watching, but it feels like a canyon.
Harrison kneels in front of me then, eyes level with mine. “You’re the problem,” he says softly. “Not because you know something, but because you clearly notice things. That makes you dangerous in ways muscle never is.”
I swallow, forcing my voice steady. “If you think hurting us will get you what you want, you’re wrong.”
His smile is thin. “I don’t need you to tell me. I need you to slip.” He rises, nodding once. “Bring her back.”
Nathan roars my name as they pull me away, the sound tearing through me like a blade. My face is wet and sticky from the blood dripping down as I twist, fighting uselessly, until one of the guards slams me hard against the wall. Pain flashes white, but I keep my eyes on Nathan as long as I can.
“Remember,” Harrison calls after Nathan, “every lie buys her time. Every moment of silence costs someone else theirs.”
The door slams shut between us, and the room they drag me into is smaller.
Brighter. Clinical in a way that makes my skin crawl, giving me flashbacks of Dylan laying in her hospital bed after she was rescued.
A table. A chair. Nothing else. They remove me from my current chair and take me to the table where they slam me down on my back and tie my wrists and feet to the legs with rope.
It bites into my skin as they pull my legs apart and fasten my ankles.
My wrists ache immediately, burning where the coarse fibers press into tender flesh.
I want to scream, to fight, but I know that will only give him the satisfaction.
I can hear Nathan still yelling from the room over and my heart aches because I know he blames himself.
I wish I could tell him I don’t blame him, that I’m just as responsible for getting us into this mess. That I wanted to help.
The air in the room feels too thin, too sterile, like it’s pressing against my lungs, and the fluorescent lights hum faintly, like a heartbeat. I lift my head slightly, eyes darting around.
Nothing. Just the table, walls, the single door we came through. I force myself to breathe evenly, counting silently to keep the panic from exploding.
A shadow falls over me. Harrison.
“You know,” he says softly, almost conversational as his hand trails down my body—between my breasts, down my stomach, between my thighs until he’s clutching the place between my legs.
“I said I don’t like violence, but I also value results.
And results require…persuasion.” He squeezes me, his fingers digging in, almost forcing me to cry out but I refuse to give him what he wants: a reaction.
His fingers tighten for another second, testing, probing at my entrance through my underwear, waiting for the flinch he expects. I give him nothing.