Chapter 29
Isaac
The metallic smell of blood invades my nose while I watch crimson water run off my hands, into the sink on the back of my basement wall.
Christian groans in pain behind me.
I grabbed him from outside of his place about five hours ago. Piece of shit didn’t even see it coming.
Theo sent me the address of his current residence. Sitting in the shadows, I watched while he left, and then Theo disabled his alarm system so I could sneak in. The moment he walked through his front door, I struck the back of his head with my gun, knocking him unconscious.
He really should get better security.
Something that isn’t so easy to hack into. Then again, he was dumb enough to try and kidnap Serena at the club, so I’m not surprised.
When he finally came to, he was already secured to the chair in my basement. I’ll give it to the guy, once he was conscious, he really did put up a good fight. Or at least tried to.
There wasn’t much he could do other than thrash around like a trapped animal, scraping the chair uselessly against the concrete.
Now, he hangs bloodied from chains I’ve looped through the ceiling, pulling his arms back in an unnatural position. Each shallow breath rattling through a broken nose and split lips.
Broken and battered.
Just how I want him.
His shoes barely scrape against the floor as he sways back and forth, trying to break free from the chains. Every pathetic attempt to pull on the chains, hoping that they’ll give. They won’t.
I’ve tested them myself.
I cross my arms and lean against the workbench, watching him struggle, amusement dancing in my eyes. It would be almost impressive, if it wasn’t so pathetic. He still thinks that tonight ends with him leaving this basement alive.
I smile to myself. He can continue to think that if he wants. Because it’s not going to happen.
The moment he decided to drug Serena… to touch what was mine, was the moment he stopped being a man that gets to leave here in anything other than a body bag.
“What are you smiling at?” Christian lifts his head and bares his blood covered teeth.
I shrug. “Oh, nothing really. Just thinking of how much I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
He lets out a strangled laugh that turns into a scream when his shoulders are yanked by the chains. “You’re a cocky fuck, aren’t you?” He manages to choke out.
Pushing off the workbench, I close the space between us in three strides. I lean into his vision and yank his head back by his hair. “Cocky? No. Just certain.” He curses and spits blood into my face.
I wipe the blood from my face and swing my fist, making contact with his already broken nose. A sickening crack fills the air and his head falls forward. Blood dripping onto the floor below him.
My combat boots thud against the floor as I walk around him and tighten the chains above his hands, dislocating his shoulders. Christian twists his body, a rough breath rattling his chest.
“Are you going to at least tell me what the fuck I’m doing here?” His chin dips toward his chest, unable to hold it up any longer.
“You don’t know?” I taunt.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have fucking asked you.” He twists weakly and lifts his gaze to meet mine.
This fucking mouth of his. I land a punch in his stomach and he doubles over. His ribs shuttering as a guttural breath escapes from his clenched teeth.
I turn my back to him and stride over to my workbench, choosing my favorite knife displayed on the wall above. “Well, let me refresh your memory.” Turning back around, I stalk towards him like a predator stalking his prey.
He locks his eyes on the knife and they widen.
My oh my, I am going to enjoy this.
I take the knife and slowly run it across his exposed chest, leaving a trail of blood beading to the surface in its wake. He hisses in a pained breath, trying his best not to show his weakness.
The longer he delays telling me what I want to know, the longer I get to play. So he can keep fighting it for all I care. He will break soon enough.
“A few weeks ago, you had a night out on the town and visited a certain club.” I cut into his back.
“During that little escapade, you tried buying a drink for a beautiful young lady and her friend. When she refused, you decided it was okay to put your hands on her.” Taking my time, I walk around him and lift his head. “That was your first mistake.”
I drag my knife from his temple down his cheek. Closing his eyes, he bites down the scream wanting to escape and shudders.
“Your second mistake,” I tap his nose with the tip of my knife, “was thinking you could get away with slipping something into her drink.”
Christian lets out a rough wheeze in an attempt at laughing. “You could be talking about half of Seattle’s female population. Sounds like a typical Friday night to me.”
My jaw ticks and my shoulders stiffen. Without a second thought, I twist my knife into his right side. The sound that leaves his lips and fills the air is too raw and broken to even be considered a scream.
“I think you may know someone by the name of David.” Blood stains my jeans as I wipe the blade across my leg.
His breathing is ragged and shaky. “So… you’re the reason,” he sucks in a breath. “He didn’t show up for work the next day.”
I nod. “Some crew you got there.” Blood pools around his wound. “I’ve been looking for you for a while now. I was starting to think that I wasn’t going to find you. As luck may have it, you were dumb enough to show up a second time.”
He wheezes in a breath as he struggles to look at me. “If I would have known that the bitch was going to cause so much trouble, I would have told my boss to grab her himself.” He spits blood at my feet.
Grabbing him by the throat, I yank him up so his feet no longer touch the ground. “You do remember.” I growl.
“Of... course.” He strains. “She was the only one my boss had ever asked for by name.”
Everything in me goes still.
My pulse pounds against my ribs while a sickening feeling settles in my stomach. The fact that he knows her name, and I don’t even know his, sends something dark and violent shuddering through me.
I don’t fucking like that.
What else does he know about her?
I let go of his neck and land another blow into his face, sending his head to the side, and splattering blood across the floor.
I open and close my fist, stretching my aching knuckles. “What does he want with Serena?”
“Fuck if I know. I don’t ask questions. Questions get you killed. He tells me what to do and I fucking do it.” He groans.
He’s lying. And him stonewalling me isn’t going to get me anywhere fast. I no longer want to play. The faster he tells me what I need to know, the quicker I can go get Serena and bring her back home. Safe.
I drag the tip of my knife under his chin, down his neck and to his chest. Pinching the skin below his collarbone, I score an outline in his skin. He sucks in another quiet breath, trying not to give away how much pain he is in.
And I smile at his feeble attempt.
I deepen the cut, then lift the edge with my fingers, sliding the knife underneath with surgical precision. His scream rips through the basement.
“It’s not nice to lie Christian. I suggest you start telling me the truth, or we are going to see just how much skin you can lose before passing out.” My voice is calm and low.
Christian thrashes and jerks violently against the chains, only causing them to pull on his arms harder. “Eat shit!”
I toss his skin onto the floor and it lands with a wet plop . Eventually his body goes limp and his breathing shallow.
Tsk. Tsk. That just will not do.
I don’t want to kill him. Not yet.
But if I'm not careful, the poor bastard isn’t going to last much longer by the looks of him. I circle slowly around him, methodic and deliberate. Wiping the blade clean on my jeans once again. My eyes cold, calculating and never breaking contact.
Finding my next target, I grab the skin near his shoulder blade. Christian twists uselessly as the blade traces another slow line over his tight skin. My dark eyes watching every twitch of his muscle as he tries to get away.
My gaze focus on the spot beneath the blade. Unblinking and steady. I almost lift the blade and decide to go easy on him. And then my mind is filled with all of the possibilities of what would have happened if he were successful.
Thoughts of Serena unconscious and bound in the trunk of the car. Of her restrained and vulnerable for someone to take advantage of her.
Or worse.
I lose restraint and slice the blade quickly underneath his skin again, leaving a bloody patch exposed from his shoulder blade to the middle of his back.
Christians entire body goes slack against the chains.
Shit.
Is he breathing? I put my finger to his nose and feel the faintest hint of air.
Whew.
He’s not dead. Just passed out. Fucking weakling.
***
It’s hours before he comes to.
Checking my phone again, I open the tracker app for Serena’s phone. She stayed at the hotel all night. One less thing for me to worry about. At least I can have Theo monitor the security feeds and alert me if anything looks suspicious.
I glance at the time. She should be leaving for work soon, and she should be safe enough there. I hope.
I don’t like the fact that she will be at the clinic, but Tyler hasn’t gone near there for two days now, and if the pattern sticks, they won’t be taking another girl for at least a week. I’ll have enough time to finish what I need to here and then can wait outside until her shift is done.
Quiet coughs steal my attention, and I pocket my cell as Christian wakes up. Time to get back to work.
I have loosened the chains now so he’s on his knees in front of me. Like the pathetic piece of shit he is.
I crouch in front of him, resting my forearms on my knees. “You know what’s interesting about fear?” I say quietly.
His head tilts sideways as he groans, and I lean mine over, studying him.