Chapter 27
Kaz
I wake up with an insane headache. My skull literally feels like someone took a chainsaw to it before bashing it with a club. What the fuck happened? I groan and twist my head to the side, but when I try to reach up to rub my temple, my hand won’t move. My eyes immediately snap open, only to be met with darkness.
“Nice of you to finally join me, Kitten,” I hear Jamison speak smoothly. He sounds robotic, and it’s slightly unnerving. I’m hit with sudden flashes of my meeting with the secret texter who turned out to be Lockhart. The memory of Jamison pulling me into the alley hits me next, and I cringe internally.
“Ja…Jamison?” I ask, silently sending out a prayer that this is all just a horrible nightmare. “Where am I? Why can’t I move?” I shift my body and try to lift up my arms to make a point. My awareness slowly becomes clearer. I’m on my back, strapped to something flat. Something is wrapped around my face, covering my eyes as well because I can see light peaking through the underneath. All I can think about are all of the times my mom’s boyfriend, Pete, had cornered me, smelling of drugs, cigarettes and booze. Making lewd comments and pressing his body against me. My claustrophobia kicks in and I start to hyperventilate. Jamison, wherever he is, doesn’t say a word as I lay on the cold surface shaking.
“Jamison, please,” I whimper. “Unstrap me. This is insane.”
I feel his menacing presence before I hear him. He’s so fucking close, I can feel his breathe skating over my face. “Insane would be someone applying for a job at Bolt Corporation with doctored credentials, only to spend fucking years getting close to anyone in upper management. Insane would be sleeping with them to give information to their enemy, knowing it could destroy them. That. Is. Insane!” He’s practically screaming in my face now. I’ve never heard him this unhinged before. Suddenly, I'm glad that I’m blindfolded.
“It’s not what you think. I wasn’t doing any of those things.”
My blindfold is ripped off and I’m left staring into Jamison’s eyes. The blue is gone, his eyes so dark, they practically look black. I squint at the bright lights and whip my head around to gauge where I’m at. This place is large and the walls are lined with all kinds of tools. Mechanic shop? Not a chance. More like an operating room. My blood runs cold. Jamison smirks when I look back at him.
“You’re a fucking liar. You’re a very good fucking liar though, Kaz." he sneers. I hate the way he says my name instead of the nickname he’s called me for years. I didn’t even like that fucking nickname but now, in this moment, I would be happy if he called me Kitten for the rest of my life. “I’ll give you credit. You most definitely pulled one over on me. Now Jonathan, he leads with his heart, so I’m sure he was an easy target. Me though? I’ll admit I dropped the ball with you. I won’t ever make that mistake again.” He walks away from me and I strain my neck to see what he’s doing over my shoulder. He comes back into my vision holding a small scalpel.
“Let’s start with a few easy questions. How long have you been working for Lockhart?”
‘ That’s easy ,’ I think to myself before blurting out, “I haven’t!”
He places the scalpel against my dress and drags it completely down, effectively cutting it in half. The cool air hits my body immediately, and I watch as Jamison’s eyes light up and he licks his lips. “The Devil really does wear a beautiful disguise.”
He presses the scalpel against the skin on my stomach and drags it just enough to make me bleed. “I haven’t Jamison, I swear. I didn't even know it was Lockhart messaging me,” I whimper.
He looks at me quizzically, before glaring at me. “Still fucking lying," he says and drags the scalpel further, making me scream out in pain. “Maybe I won’t kill you. Maybe I'll drop you off at The Cellar instead, hmm. Would you like that? That’s what your boss wanted you to do anyway.” He grabs my cheeks, squeezing hard as he gets in my face.
I glare back at him. Of course, he would assume that’s what Lockhart had meant. That he wanted me for sex.
“That’s not what he was talking about,” I grit out from between his fingers. I don’t have time to explain because Jamison’s phone rings, cutting us both off. He glares back at me before shoving the blindfold in my mouth and holding it in with his hand.
“Hello," he answers with his other hand. He nods his head to himself and after a good thirty seconds replies with a curt, “of course.” He hangs up the phone before dropping the scalpel on a tray I hadn’t noticed before.
“I have business to attend to. I’ll be back, and when I am, you better have your story straight, Kaz. That will make the difference in whether you die quick, or slow and painful.”
He leaves me there, half naked, strapped down, the blindfold still shoved in my mouth.