4. Oliver
UNKNOWN LOCATION
4
“He’s finally coming to. I thought those officers were going to kill him. He’s been out since yesterday.”
“Yeah, well, it turned into a circus, and now we need to clean up the mess.”
Yesterday? What mess?
“Just do your thing. Get him to talk.”
I blinked a few times, trying to figure out where I was and who was talking.
English? British accent, definitely not American. I cataloged any facts I could latch on to in case they would help at some point. They’re in head-to-toe black. Masked.
Windowless room. Concrete walls. Hot as fuck.
A desk with medical supplies sat off to my left, and I appeared to be stretched out on a bed, ankles and wrists cuffed to it.
Did Mya get away?
One of the two masked men left the room, while the other advanced closer to the bed. “What’s your last name, Oliver?”
I groaned when another dose of reality hit. Pain. Everywhere.
But that wasn’t the most disturbing bit of information that infiltrated my gradually awakening brain. How did they know my first name but not my last?
“We know Mya’s full name since she apparently went undercover as herself. Kind of a peculiar alias, don’t you think?” He squatted next to me, only his green eyes visible. At least, that was the color registering in my foggy brain.
It took me a second to fully understand what this asshole just said to me.
On instinct, I snarled and tried to reach for him, but the cuffs were too tight, digging into my skin.
Did they find her, or did she escape? I had to cling to the hope she got away while I’d distracted the officers. Everything was a blur after that. I was fairly certain that, aside from being beaten up, I’d been stabbed in my side. And with every movement I made trying to get free, it felt as though the wound was splitting apart.
“You’re bleeding again. Do you have a death wish?” He stood and went over to the desk, quickly peeled open a new bandage and returned with it.
They must have been keeping me alive for answers. At least I could try and buy myself time until Falcon showed up. If Mya had successfully reached out to them, they’d come for us. My tracker was no longer online, but that wouldn’t stop the team.
I kept quiet while he patched up my wound, refraining from fighting the cuffs so I didn’t actually bleed out and die.
When he finished, he tossed the bloody gauze on the floor and went over to the door and knocked twice.
I rolled my head to the side when I heard the door open, a little confused by who was there.
It wasn’t Mya, but it was someone I did recognize. One of the valets from our hotel. The one with kind eyes and a friendly smile. He’d witnessed Mya and me going at it (arguing, not sex) from time to time.
Why in God’s name had they brought him here?
Another masked man forced the valet into the room. With his ankles secured by rope, the valet shuffled in slowly before the man nudged him to his knees. His hands were cuffed, and sweat stained his white shirt. He pointed his terrified eyes at me in recognition, trembling while speaking in Thai, as the second masked man left as quickly as he’d come.
I tried to draw up a past memory of him to recall his name. Zeroing in on his ID tag from his uniform when I last saw him outside the hotel, I finally remembered.
“Anurak,” I said under my breath, and he nodded.
He had to be in his thirties. A gold ring on his finger. Married. Probably kids at home. A family waiting for him. And now, because he’d crossed paths with me, he was screwed.
“You see,” the masked Brit said in an even-tempered tone, taking a knee by Anurak, “in my experience, I’ve found the best way to get information from hero types like yourself isn’t to torture them.”
I read between the lines. Pretty fucking easily.
He was also right.
I wouldn’t say shit to save myself, but . . .
I looked away from Anurak, my eyes moving to the ceiling as physical pain was replaced by mental anguish.
“Fine,” I began, my voice strained, “I’ll tell you who I work for, just let him go.”
“Tell me first,” he ordered.
“Homeland Security,” I lied, probably too quickly. “My boss is the U.S. government. Is it that shocking?” I looked back over at them.
“Try again.” His gloved hand circled Anurak’s throat, and Anurak lifted his cuffed wrists in a failed attempt to break the hold.
“The CIA,” I tossed out next.
“Again.” He released Anurak, stood, and unholstered a Glock from his side.
“FBI.” I was running out of the alphabet soup of agencies to give him, and I doubted he’d believe me if I said the SSA. “Let him go. I won’t talk with him here.”
“You won’t talk anyway. Unless you’re highly motivated.” He went over to the door and knocked twice again. “I have plans to motivate you even more, don’t worry.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” On instinct, I fought against the cuffs. A useless effort in my current state.
When the door opened, the same masked man, or a new guy for all I could tell, was there. He was standing sideways, and when he pulled a woman around in front of him from the hall, my heart momentarily stopped and bile rose in my throat.
Duct tape was over Mya’s mouth, and a blindfold covered her eyes. Her blouse was partially undone, revealing her bra beneath, and her wrists and ankles were bound by rope.
I fought against the cuffs as I let her know, “I’m here.”
“Ermmm . . .” Broken murmurs and jerky movements accompanied her efforts as she tried to get free, the sight and the sounds killing me.
The asshole in the hall forcefully shoved her to her knees next to Anurak. Like before, he left the room without a word.
“I swear to God, if you’ve set a hand on her, I will detach yours from your wrists,” I gritted out. “And that’ll only be the beginning of what I do to you.”
When Mya tried to stand, the masked Brit removed the scarf from her eyes and aimed his weapon at me. He wanted her to see what was going to happen next.
I wanted to promise her everything would be okay. Somehow I’d make sure. But I was chained to a bed and bleeding, not to mention unarmed.
Mya slowly looked at me, going dead still at the realization a Glock was pointed my way. Her feet were bare, and she sat back on her heels. Tears streamed down her face, flowing over her taped mouth.
Desperate to go to her, hold and protect her, I struggled in vain again, trying to get free.
Anurak began chanting the same line over and over in Thai. Probably a prayer, but it was further screwing with my already fucked state of mind.
“Let. Her. Go,” I growled out, wishing the command and tone of my voice would be enough to intimidate the bastard into giving up, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.
“We decided it’d be best to wait until you were both awake to help incentivize you to open your mouths when we question you.” The Brit came closer to the bed, his weapon now fixed on Mya. “First, though, I’m going to wear you down a bit. Ensure you’re motivated to tell me the truth.”
Mya began shaking her head, a stifled, “No,” piercing through the heavy air between us.
“You have a decision to make,” he went on, ignoring Mya. “Who’s getting tortured? Mya or this man?” If I hadn’t already been hanging on to the edge, those words would’ve sent me right over it. But it was the sight of Mya closing her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks that did me in.
“Don’t do this,” I seethed, fighting with the cuffs even as my wrists bled from the metal bracelets cutting into my flesh. “If it’s money you want, we can pay more than whatever they’re giving you.”
“Not everything is about money.” When he focused on me, Mya attempted to stand, as if she were going to try and fight him all on her own. She was too determined and stubborn not to. All it took was one hard shove against her chest for him to knock her back down.
She collapsed onto her knees with a mumbled, “Fuck you.” Brave and headstrong. But when the back of his gloved hand struck her across the face, I snapped.
I nearly broke my wrist trying to get my hand free from the restraints.
He positioned the Glock at Mya’s temple, and my heart stopped, along with every ounce of effort I was putting into trying to free myself.
“Her or him. Choose now, or I’ll choose for you, and it won’t be him.”
“I’ll tell you what you want to know. You don’t need to do this.” I wasn’t sure how in the hell I’d give up the names of my other teammates, but . . .
“Oh, I know you will. After you choose.”
“Me,” I said, shutting my eyes. “Torture me.”
“I admire that choice, but it’s not one of your options. Now, hurry up or buttercup dies anyway.”
My eyes flashed open. He knew my nickname for Mya, but didn’t know my last name. Something didn’t add up.
Then it came to me.
The man who’d bumped into Mya by the drink cart. He’d planted a listening device on us somehow. The details he knew about us came from our conversation yesterday.
Mya peered at me, and I could tell by the look in her eyes she’d put two and two together as well.
And then I gave him the only possible answer left to give, and on a broken sigh said, “Not Mya. Don’t torture her.”
“Be more specific. Who do you choose to be tortured?” Of course he was going to force me to spit out the words. Say a name.
Rolling my lips inward around my teeth, I released a slow breath from my nose before I gave him what he wanted. “Anurak. Torture him.”
He slowly lowered his weapon. “Good. Now, it’s her turn to make a decision. Based on that, we’ll see how this all plays out.”
Plays out? What the fuck? “That wasn’t the deal.”
Mya tried to get up again but lost her balance and fell onto her heels.
When Anurak tried to rise, the asshole kicked him down, then went over and dragged him by the shirt. Positioning him against the wall by the door, he said something in Thai, not one of the phrases I knew, and Anurak went quiet.
Pushing Anurak to the floor again, he moved between Mya and the bed, rolled back his shoulders, and redirected his attention to us. “It’s only fair she gets a question, too. A choice as well.” Eyes on Mya, he asked her, “What’s your decision going to be, Mya?” He leaned down and ripped the tape from her mouth and tossed it.
She didn’t give him the satisfaction of crying from the pain that must’ve caused and instead yelled, “You. I choose kicking the shit out of you.” She lifted her chin, defiant.
“Ah, you want to involve me in this equation? Then let’s bloody well do it, yeah?” When his hand slipped to his belt buckle, and he undid it, I’d never felt so helpless in all my life.
“Don’t you fucking touch her.” The veins in my forearms bulged as I fought the restraints.
Letting go of his buckle, he took a knee by Mya and cupped her chin, forcefully commanding her to look at him. “I’ve changed my mind on the torture. Instead, you get to decide who lives and who dies.”
She raised her hands, snatching his wrist, but he didn’t budge.
“There’s one other option. You can save both of their lives if you give me something else.” He brought his face closer to hers.
Realizing what he was implying, I knew hell was real and on earth. “Just ask us what you want to know.” I did my best to channel my strength, but I was stuck to the bed and losing my mind. This can’t be happening. “We’ll tell you. Anything.” Just don’t hurt her.
Not letting go of her, he casually glanced at me over his shoulder. “You’ll tell me everything down to your social security number and mother’s maiden name. I’m not worried. But first, I plan to break you both.”
“Trust me,” I choked out, “I’m already broken. You’ve got me where you want me.” He had full control of me with Mya in his grasp like that.
My mind tripped back to the past, my brain short-circuiting from this nightmare. Painful memories flipped like pages from a horror novel. And then I fell apart. Like a fucking house of cards.
Down.
Scattered everywhere and on the verge of puking.
I watched him resettle his eyes on Mya as he said in a low, commanding tone, “You can sit on the desk and Oliver here will watch me fuck you, or they both die. Your body in exchange for two lives is a fair trade. But are you willing to make that sacrifice?”
“Mya, no,” I screamed, my vision obstructed by unshed tears as I swallowed back more bile. The anger inside began to take a back seat to fear. Fear like I’d never felt in my entire fucking life. And now I finally understood what my dad?—
“If you hurt them, I’ll never talk.” Mya’s determination interrupted my thoughts. “You’ll have to kill me anyway.” Tears spilled down her cheeks despite her brave words, and I tried again to get off the bed, hating myself for not being able to help her.
“Don’t hurt her,” I pleaded to the man I planned to rip apart with my bare hands. “I’ll do anything you want.” I wasn’t above groveling on my hands and knees. Because it was the truth. I would do anything to protect her.
Ignoring me, he unsheathed a knife strapped to the side of his leg, shifted her legs around, and cut the rope at her ankles. “What’s your choice, Mya?”
I was going to choke on the vomit stuck in my throat or have a heart attack and die right there, and then I wouldn’t be able to save her.
The bastard stood and removed his belt from the loops, and I struggled and fought, doing everything in my power to escape.
Staring at her freed ankles, Mya moved her gaze up the man’s body as he offered her a hand to stand.
“Do. Not. Do. It.” My words punctured the air, but they didn’t seem to hold any weight in my weak position. “Mya, please,” I said around a broken sob.
Visibly trembling, she peered at Anurak before returning her attention to me. “I . . .”
Relief filled my chest when she knocked his gloved hand away. Give me death any day over anyone laying a hand on this woman.
“You won’t kill them,” she whispered, her voice soft and fragile, and yet, filled with determination, “because if you do, you’ll never get answers from me.”
Stay stubborn. You’ve got this. Please.
“That’s a risk I’ll have to take, then.” He went for his Glock and walked over to the bed, but without Mya’s feet bound, she immediately stood and lunged for him.
He twisted around and captured her by the throat, lifting her off the ground in one quick movement.
“Put her down.” My demand, and my struggles against the cuffs, continued to do nothing. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Sex or murder, what’s your choice?” He set her back down but didn’t let go of her throat, and she brought her linked wrists up, trying to peel his hand away.
I’d experienced torture before, the worst kind, and nothing was comparable to this moment.
This was real pain. True, raw, visceral pain.
Mya let go of his hand, no longer resisting. She yielded by way of a nod, and he released her throat.
My fingers twitched. I was losing more blood. Becoming cold. A strange numbness taking hold of me.
“Nooooo. No. No.” I was now chanting like Anurak through a flood of hot tears on my face. “No, Mya.”
“On the desk. Jeans and panties to your ankles,” he ordered.
Struggling again, even though my energy was slipping from the blood loss, and my skin was ripping at my ankles and wrists, I refused to stop. I partially dislocated my shoulder in my attempt to get loose. The gunshot wound was healed, but now my arm screamed from a new kind of pain.
I clenched down on my back teeth, and using the momentum of my own body, shifted and slammed my shoulder backward to reset it the best I could. “Listen to me, Mya,” I began, ignoring the burn in my shoulder. “Don’t do this. I’ll take death any day over that man touching you. Please. I’m begging you.”
She ignored me, and with shaking hands, peeled down her jeans and panties.
Every movement shattered my last thread of control.
Lifting my back off the bed, my fingertips curled into fists, I tightened the muscles in my arms and legs, trying to get free. Blood was flowing from my wound. The haze of dizziness tried to take over, and I fought it as much as I struggled against the cuffs.
“You’re going to kill yourself,” he warned, seemingly unworried I’d escape. “Now, get on the desk, Mya.”
Still resisting, I watched in terror as she followed his orders. She slowly shifted the medical supplies to the side and sat, and in that moment, my body went numb.
A strange paralysis took over as he said, “Part your knees. I want him to see what I’m about to do to you.”
She closed her eyes but adamantly shook her head no.
“I’ll do anything,” I tried again, my pleas managing to cut through my numb state. “Please don’t hurt her.”
He used his knife to pop the two remaining buttons on her shirt free before cupping his gloved hand over her breast.
“Don’t,” I whispered, my body shaking almost violently from the mental and emotional pain, knowing what kind of hell she was going through before my eyes.
“I—I have to,” she stuttered, her cuffed hands drawn across her lap, trying to shield her nakedness from this savage.
“Mya, he doesn’t want me to die. He wants answers.” I was worried I’d pass out before I could stop this, so I begged, “You want to break me? Fine. But there has to be another way to do it.”
“Will you kill an innocent man with your own hands to save her?”
His question had Mya’s eyes flashing open, and my soul leaving my body.
“Yes.” No fucking hesitation. I wasn’t sure what kind of man that made me, to be so eagerly willing to kill, but at that point, I’d do anything to prevent this man from raping her.
Now Mya was the one to beg, “No. Don’t.”
I tried sitting up in vain. Hopeless. Helpless. And fucked.
“Hero types. Always so predictable.” The man grunted and let go of her breast, shifting to the side to observe me.
This fucker owned me. He’d known that from the start. This was all some sick game to get me right where he wanted me. He’d said he wouldn’t torture me to break me, but this was the textbook definition of it.
“This is your final decision? Kill an innocent man to save her.” He stole a look at Anurak, who was clueless of what was about to happen to him.
“Yes,” I rushed out.
“If I put a knife in your hand,” he began, “will you really be able to take this man’s life?”
“No, Oliver.” Mya tried to stand from the desk, but he shoved her against the wall. Her knees parted, garnering his attention.
Terrified this bastard would change his mind, I quickly worked to divert his focus back to me. “Give me the knife. I’ll do it. Whatever you want.”
“He’s a father. Three kids. You sure about this?” He angled his head toward Anurak, lowering his hand back to his side.
Tightening her knees together, she cried, “No, Oliver. This is just flesh and bone. My body. But if you kill an innocent man, that’s your soul on the line.”
I closed my eyes, unable to look at her or Anurak, as I convinced myself if I didn’t take his life, this asshole would. He’d never let him walk away regardless. He was dead no matter which of our hands dealt the fatal blow.
I had to do whatever it took to save Mya, no matter the consequences. Damn my soul. If anything happened to her, I’d be in hell for all of eternity anyway.
Opening my eyes, I answered, “Yes, I’m sure.”
And in that one moment, with that one decision . . . everything changed.