Chapter 49
Brooke
We drag them back to the abandoned warehouse in silence.
Elliot’s cage waits in the center of the concrete floor, welded from thick steel bars and bolted directly into the slab.
Beau shoves him through the open door.
Elliot hits the ground on his back. His ruined leg strikes the floor with a wet smack. He tries to catch himself with his hands, but his palms slip in the blood already spreading beneath him.
The limb doesn't look like it belongs to a living person anymore. Skin hangs in torn strips. Bone pushes through the muscle in a jagged white arc.
Beau crouches in front of the cage and studies the damage like a mechanic inspecting a bent axle. He reaches out and flicks the exposed bone with two fingers.
Elliot screams.
The sound rips out of him raw and violent. It bounces off the warehouse walls and echoes back across the concrete. His entire body jerks. He claws at the floor, trying to drag himself away from the pain, but the rest of him refuses to cooperate.
Blood sprays from his mouth as he coughs. Elliot spits a thick mouthful of it near Seth’s boots.
“Fuck you,” Elliot rasps. “Just shoot me.”
Seth smirks and glances at Beau.
“So many men have told us that around this point.”
Beau gives a small nod. “Yeah. They always want the shortcut.”
Seth looks back down at Elliot.
“I can shoot you,” he says calmly. “But it won’t be somewhere clean. It'll be somewhere that hurts like a bitch. And you won’t die fast.”
Elliot glares up at him with his jaw clenched.
Seth crouches to his level.
“You want to know why I don’t do quick endings?”
Elliot stays silent.
“Back when we were overseas, we had a guy begging the same way you are. He wiped out half a village and still thought mercy was on the table.”
Seth glances over his shoulder.
“Where did you shoot that one, Beau?”
Beau scratches his jaw.
“His nuts.”
Sophie sucks in a quiet breath.
Beau continues, completely unfazed. “He dropped screaming. It took him a long time to die.”
“And then there was the asshole who raped those women and children,” Seth adds.
Beau glances at him. “Yeah. You handled that one.”
Seth’s mouth twitches slightly.
“Ah, yes, I let him find out what it feels like to get penetrated against your will.”
He looks back at Elliot.
“You want to know where I shot him, Ellie?”
Elliot’s breathing turns shallow.
Seth leans closer.
“Because that is exactly where I would shoot you.”
Elliot swallows hard.
I remember him telling me about that.
A Marine squad had gone rogue. They wiped out an entire village. They shot the men first. Then they lined up the women and children.
They raped them.
Seth and Beau found what was left.
Beau pinned their leader into the dirt. Seth took a rifle and forced the barrel inside his ass before he pulled the trigger.
I didn't know that kind of brutality was possible until Seth said it out loud.
From what he told me, the man didn't die quickly. He screamed and bled out slowly.
Honestly, he got exactly what he deserved.
I wish I had done the same to Nick.
I stand and kick Sophie’s cage door. Her jaw stays clenched. The color has drained from her face until her skin looks gray and waxy. Sweat gathers along her hairline.
She leans against the bars, her eyes unfocused for a moment.
Across the room, the industrial tub waits against the far wall. It is deep and stainless steel, the kind used for equipment or bodies depending on the facility.
I turn the valve.
Water roars out of the hose and crashes into the empty basin.
The noise fills the warehouse and echoes through the metal beams overhead.
Warm mist hits my face as the tub begins to fill.
The smell of chlorine mixes with rust and blood.
The water level climbs slowly, turning the steel sides into a dull mirror beneath the warehouse lights.
Behind me, I hear the blender.
Seth stands at a scarred metal table, the cheap plastic pitcher in front of him.
The motor whines loudly over the rush of the water, blades tearing through whatever he packed inside.
The mixture inside looks pink and thick.
He holds the lid with one hand and watches it spin, his attention steady, his shoulders relaxed.
The smell reaches me even from across the room.
The blender whines harder for a second, then cuts off. Seth lifts the lid and looks into the pitcher. He doesn't make a face. He reaches for two dented metal cups and starts pouring the pink sludge, careful so nothing spills.
I shut off the water when the tub sits nearly halfway full. The echo softens to a low slosh. I wipe my hands on my thighs and walk back toward the cages.
Sophie watches me. Her eyes flick from the tub to the blender to the cup in Seth’s hands. Fear sits under her skin, but shock blurs it.
Elliot stares too, jaw clenched, breath coming in short, shallow pulls. Sweat and grime streak across his face. His pupils look blown, more from pain than anything else.
Seth hands me two cups.
The liquid inside looks thick and frothy. It clings to the sides of the metal, a soft pink that would look harmless in any other context.
I walk to Sophie’s cage first.
Her fingers curl around the bars as I approach, knuckles pale.
“You should drink,” I hold the cup up to the gap in the bars. “You need protein if you want to make it through tonight.”
Her gaze drops to the cup, then back to my face.
“What the fuck is that?” she whispers.
“It’s a protein shake. You always gave them to us in the manor.”
Her throat works as she swallows.
She reaches through the bars and takes the cup from my hand with both of hers, the metal rattling softly against the cage.
“Don't make me pour it down your throat,” I add calmly. “That would be a waste of everyone’s time.”
She lifts it to her mouth and takes a small sip.
Her face changes instantly.
She gags and jerks the cup away, spitting the pink liquid onto the concrete. It hits in a wet splash and spreads in a pale smear between the bars. Her whole body shudders. She holds the cup out like it might bite her.
“What the fuck is that?!” she chokes. “What is that?”
I laugh before I can stop myself.
“What's wrong Sophie? You don’t like sucking on Knox anymore?” I chuckle. “That's surprising.”
Her eyes go wider. She stares at the cup like it has turned into a bomb.
“No. No, no,” she whispers.
Sophie makes a broken choking sound and slams herself backward into the cage.
“Funny, you swallowed plenty of him before.” I tilt my head slightly. “You were a lot more enthusiastic then.”
Her stomach rolls hard, and Sophie makes a choked, strangled sound from the cage as she turns her head and spits, her shoulders tightening while she tries to force it back down.
Seth walks forward. Something frozen and dark swings from his hand before he drops it hard against the concrete directly in front of the cages.
Sophie screams. Elliot recoils violently against the back of his cage.
What is left of Knox’s head rolls sideways across the floor with a wet crack.
The lower jaw is missing completely, ripped away beneath the nose.
Frozen flesh has started collapsing inward from decay, the skin gray and split in places where freezer burn and rot have eaten through it.
One eye socket is empty. The other still holds part of a clouded, sunken eye buried in blackened tissue.
Clumps of dead hair stick to the side of the skull where frost still clings stubbornly to the skin.
The smell hits seconds later. Rotting meat beneath chemical cold.
I shift my focus to Elliot as I walk toward him, the cup still in my hand, my steps slow and certain as the space between us closes.
He notices. His breathing changes first, growing uneven as his eyes drop to the cup before lifting back to mine. His leg lies twisted beneath him, useless. He watches me, tracking every step.
I stop in front of his cage and hold his gaze, letting the silence sit there long enough to settle into him before I move. Then I lower myself just enough to meet his eyes through the bars.
I lift the cup.
His head pulls back on instinct, but there is nowhere for him to go, nowhere for him to escape what is already coming.
I tip it forward.
The contents pour through the bars and onto his head, thick and wet as it hits his hair and spreads over his face. It clings for a second before sliding down, dragging across his skin in slow streaks, catching in his lashes, smearing over his mouth.
Elliot screams as he gags violently, thrashing against the bars while the liquid runs into his mouth and nose. He tries turning away, but it only smears deeper across his face. He spits and chokes, panic finally breaking through whatever composure he had left.
Sophie makes another broken sound from the other cage.
I rise back to my feet and watch him. Seth steps up beside me.
“You both loved to play games,” I smile. “You should be grateful we came prepared with refreshments.”
Seth moves closer to the cages, his tone calm.
“I’ll be nice,” he says. “One of you gets a choice. I’m going to make it long and painful either way, but one of you can volunteer and at least die before you watch what I do to the other.”
The silence that follows presses in around us.
“So, decide.”
Sophie’s breathing comes out fast and shallow. Her fingers tighten around the bars. Her eyes move from Seth to me to the tub and the blender, taking everything in while her brain tries to find a way out that doesn't exist.
Elliot speaks before she can.
“Do her first,” he blurts. “Take Sophie first.”
The words come out fast, almost tripping over each other, like his mouth can't wait to shove her in front of him.
Sophie’s head snaps toward him.
Her face crumples for a second, disbelief pushing through the pain.
“Elliot,” she shouts. Her voice sounds thin and broken. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
I laugh, the sound low and mean and completely sincere.
“See, Sophie,” I step closer to her cage. “See how fast the man you served throws you under the bus. You were nothing but a toy to him.”
I smile at Sophie’s face, watch the realization sink all the way in, then turn my head.
“Beau, get the lye.”
Beau pushes off the table without a word. His boots click across the concrete as he heads toward the metal shelves along the wall. Glass clinks softly while he moves bottles aside, searching for the white bag.
I face Sophie again.
Her hands still grip the bars. Her knuckles have gone pale. Her eyes shine wet, furious and terrified, locked on Elliot like she wants to rip his throat out before we can.
“Well, you heard the man, Sophie,” I say calmly. “Ladies first.”