Chapter Forty-Eight
Amelie
Once Monty has gone, I glance around the table.
“Shall we get started? How are we doing this?” I ask.
“We’d normally bring in a team,” Sawyer replies. “But with this being so personal…”
“You want to do it yourself.”
“Please.” He nods.
“That’s fine. What’s the plan?”
“He’s unlikely to talk, even with persuasion, so most likely it’ll come down to…”
“Torture tactics?” I supply, raising a brow. He gives a half chuckle.
“We try not to call it that. But essentially, yes.”
“And what will that achieve if he doesn’t talk?” I frown.
“Well, it’ll make me feel a hell of a lot better, for one,” Onyx interjects.
“Who’s taking the lead on this one?”
“We’ll all go in together and I’ll start with the questions,” Sawyer informs me.
“I’ll annoy the shit out of him.” Of course you will, Kalen.
“And we’ll bring the pain,” Onyx finishes, gesturing between himself and his twin.
“Are you okay with that?” I ask Slate.
“It’s what we’re trained to do,” Slate tells me with a shrug.
That’s not really an answer though, is it?
I shoot Slate a concerned look, but he either doesn’t see it or chooses to ignore it.
I make a mental note to make sure these guys speak to someone within The Order about everything that’s transpired today, too.
There’s no way any sane person can torture someone for their day job and not need support afterwards.
“Shall we, then?” I get to my feet and the others follow suit.
Do I want to do this? Yes and no. Yes, because I want answers and I want Harold to pay for everything he’s done.
No, because it’s torturing another human being and I don’t have the stomach for that.
At least what happened with Laura was quick.
Despite my initial imaginings of a long, drawn-out, painful death for her, I personally couldn’t deliver that kind of vengeance.
But I have to do this. I’m the head of a powerful organisation, and I have to be strong. Being born into this legacy doesn’t automatically make me some bad ass, unfeeling, heart of stone bitch who can kill or torture a man without feeling anything. And I don’t think I’ll ever be that person.
It’s a fine line I’m going to have to walk, while balancing everything else, and discovering who I really am. I may know where I came from now, and how I came to be in this situation, but I’m yet to decide who I want to be. What kind of leader, girlfriend, friend, daughter.
My thoughts have distracted me while we walk to where Harold is waiting. He’s been seen and patched up by our medical staff, and transferred to a lower level, underground. We have to take a lift down to the basement and the guys lead me into a small observation room at the end of the long hallway.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking in the two-way mirror, desk and chair. There’s even snacks and a bottle of water on the side. Thankfully, no popcorn.
“We thought you might be hungry. And it can take a while,” Kalen explains. “I wanted to leave popcorn, but Sawyer said it would be in poor taste.”
“Too right it would,” Onyx snaps. “You like that awful salty shit.”
So we’re just standing around casually making jokes as we get ready to torture their grandfather? Right. Okay then.
“I mean, why am I in here when he’s in there?” I nod at the glass. The other room is in darkness but I know as soon as the lights flick on, I'll see Harold no doubt strapped to a chair or something.
“We thought you might prefer to watch from here. It’s…cleaner.”
Actually, Sawyer makes a good point. I’ve been around enough blood today. I don’t know what will happen, how I’ll react, if I’m exposed to more directly.
“Thank you. I guess the smell won’t disturb me in here,” I reply. “Will I be able to hear everything?”
“Yes. And we’ll be filming the whole thing in case he does say anything we miss or need to corroborate later.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
“One last thing.” He hesitates. “We might have to lie to him. Say some things to provoke a response. You trust us, right?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Good.”
One by one they kiss me as they leave the room. I close the door behind them and take my seat. It feels macabre to reach for the snacks, but my stomach is screaming at me, so I reach for a KitKat anyway.
Have a break, have a KitKat.
Well, now this feels even more inappropriate.
I don’t have time to ponder it as the lights flicker to life next door and the door opens and my four men walk in.
Even more inappropriate than my choice of snack is the way my body instantly reacts to seeing them.
Sawyer has removed his suit jacket and tie, even going as far as to undo his top button.
Slate and Kalen have both rolled up their shirt sleeves to reveal their powerful forearms, and Onyx has stripped from the waist up, his muscles rippling in the fluorescent light as he paces in the background.
In the centre of the room, Harold grins at his grandsons from where he’s tied to a chair, as I suspected he would be.
I wasn’t expecting the grin though, or the state of him.
I thought the medical team was patching him up.
He looks awful; like an information extraction team has already spent several hours trying to convince him to talk.
His face is bruised and swollen, his nose bloody, his clothes torn and stained. He looks old, but not frail.
There’s still a blazing fire of defiance in his eyes.
“Hello, Harold,” Sawyer says resignedly.
“What? No ‘grandfather?’” Harold sneers. “I see the ‘sir’ didn’t last long. Where’s the damn respect.”
“Respect is earned and lost, not given freely. You deserve none,” Sawyer calmly replies. “I didn’t think you would be this easy to secure.”
“What makes you think I didn’t want to be captured?” he retorts.
“Why would you? You’ve been here at HQ for hours and you’ve not managed to escape.”
“Why would I want to escape?”
“Is there something here that you need or want?” Sawyer has an excellent poker face. You almost wouldn’t know that Harold is getting under his skin, but there’s a slight tension to his jaw that I recognise from winding him up in my first term here.
Harold’s eyes flick to the mirror. He must know I’m here, watching. The others catch it too because Kalen swears softly and Onyx resumes pacing.
“You’ll never get near her again.”
Harold smirks, obviously pleased at having got a rise out of them. A second later his face falls though when Kalen adds darkly, “You’ll never get near either of them again.”
My heart freezes right alongside Harold’s face. I shove an entire KitKat finger into my mouth whole. What the fuck is going on? Either of us?
“Either of them?”
“Amelie…or the baby.”
What fucking baby?!? I almost choke on my KitKat. I’m on my feet and staring intently at the window, leaning forward as if it’ll somehow allow me to hear the answer sooner.
“She’s pregnant? Is she really pregnant?” He laughs, a horrifying sound of pure joy that turns my stomach. “Which one of you did it? Was it you, Kalen? My boy, was it you?”
“Yes grandfather. I told you to wait. I told you I’d get her knocked up so that I could take control of The Order. You should have trusted me. But you just couldn’t wait, could you?”
I am not pregnant. I’m not. There’s no way. I’m on fricking birth control and have regular periods!
I’m a second away from wrenching the door open and storming in there to demand what the fuck is going on when Sawyer’s final words come back to me.
We might have to lie to him. Say some things to provoke a response. You trust us, right?
It’s a ruse. Sawyer knew Harold would never talk. He’d be all too aware this is the end of the line for him, he would have been planning to go out in a blaze of glory. This would be the only thing to give him pause.
I watch as Harold’s face breaks out into a delighted grin as he begins to chuckle.
“Oh my boy! My dear boy! I knew you could do it! Don’t you see? This changes everything! This will forfeit Amelie’s place and put a Knox in charge! My perfect boy, well done! You should have told me sooner, all of this drama could have been avoided.”
“Like Amelie being forced to kill Laura?” Kalen retorts and Harold pales. “She didn’t take it well, grandfather. I’m worried about the stress all this has put on the baby.”
“You must take the reins at once!” Harold cries. “She must be put on bed rest. If anything happens to that baby the whole plan will fall apart! All our hard work will have been for nothing!”
I know Kalen is lying to lead his grandfather on, but it still smarts that they’ve clearly had this conversation before.
There was a plan in place, at least on Harold’s part.
If he couldn’t control me, couldn’t get rid of me in the skin rings, and couldn’t knock me up, then what?
Today’s attack would suggest he just wanted to wipe me out now.
“Imagine if you had sold her into the skin rings while pregnant, grandfather,” Sawyer chastises.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Thank God no harm came to her today – right? They’re both okay, aren’t they?”
“She’s in the medical wing. Your men came to kill, did they not?”
“I thought it was the end. I didn’t think there were any options left.”
“There are always options for us,” Onyx murmurs darkly.
“Do you really think we’d let you take over?” Slate asks. “That we’d place Kalen at the helm—”
“Hey!” Kalen cries indignantly, sniffing like he’s hurt at the suggestion he would be a poor leader.
“You’re even more stupid than we thought.
” Onyx sneers. “We’ve weeded out all of the traitors in the organisation, and they’ve all been interrogated or disposed of.
Laura is dead. You have no connections and you can’t flee the country.
The rings are days away from being shut down… there’s nothing left for you.”
Harold laughs. It’s the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard, and it isn’t forced or fake at all. Tears stream down his face as he gasps for breath.
“You’ll never be able to shut down the rings or discover the extent of my corruption,” he brags, sending a feeling of dread right down to my toes. “My legacy will live on. I didn’t put all of my eggs in my son’s incompetent basket.”
And that’s the crux of it. We know nothing, and he isn’t going to tell us anything.
I pull out and text my last resort.
Pocketing the phone, I look up in time to see Onyx land the first punch, Harold’s head snapping to the side and blood spraying from his mouth.
Yeah, I don’t need to watch this.
I exit the room knowing Harold’s fate is sealed. He was never going to tell us anything worthwhile, and he’s too well trained to survive interrogation and torture tactics. Hell, he helped write the book on them. No, it’s time to hand him over to the master.
“All set?” His voice rings out along the well-lit, clinical corridor. Considering all that takes place down here, it’s surprisingly clean. I would’ve thought white was a poor decor choice, but I can’t see a spec of dirt – let alone blood – anywhere.
I nod to Baxter, loving the chilling, psychopath grin he gives me in return, before noticing he is being flanked by three gentlemen. Two of them I recognise.
“Who’s this?” I ask, nodding to indicate the stranger.
“The third.”
“Musketeer?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t mean to judge,” I say. “But he doesn’t look old enough.”
“Excuse me ma’am, I’m Tex. And yes, I know I have a baby face, but I believe we’re all around a similar age.”
“Age has nothing to do with skill,” Baxter assures me. “You wouldn’t believe what this sick motherfucker can dream up in that twisted head of his.” He sounds mildly impressed, so this guy must be good.
“You’re the brains behind what you all do?” I ask.
“I guess you could say that. I’m the ideas guy. I like to mix history with science and modern technology.”
I nod, turning my attention back to Baxter. “And what are they doing here?”
“I brought them in to help with Harold.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t going to sing.”
“Oh he won’t. We’re just here to have some fun with him, ma’am. Knowing it was him behind our girl’s kidnapping…well, it’s the least we could do. I’ve been working on something special.”
“Good. Do your worst.”
With that, I stride off down the corridor, leaving them to it. I know Baxter will let me know when it’s all done, and I don’t need to see how it plays out. Though I will admit I am curious to see the three musketeers in action.
It’ll have to wait though. I have more pressing matters to attend to, like catching up with my friends and family, and beginning to read through the mountain of reports already landing in my inbox. I let myself into my office and forgo my desktop in favour of my tablet, Susan.
I knew that with graduating I couldn’t leave her behind, so I brought her into HQ with me a few weeks back and had one of the IT guys switch her over to The Order systems instead of the school ones.
It seemed only right, considering we started our journey together.
It was a rocky relationship to start off with, but it blossomed into something beautiful, and I know now I couldn’t live without her anymore than I could live without Elsie, Baxter or the guys. Even if the others tease me for it.
I take a seat at my desk and promise myself that I’ll just run through a couple of emails. I begin with emailing all members of the board to say that we can meet in the morning. We all need a rest.
Several hours later it’s crazy late and I’m so tired. I don’t know where the time went. I think I’ve been running on adrenaline all day – has it really only been one day? – and I don’t remember the last time I ate.
I pocket Susan, knowing that I’ll still have a huge chunk of work to do this weekend, and then I head out to find my friends. Maybe once I check on them all and reassure them that I really am okay, we can all leave, grab some food and get to sleep.
I also need to figure out what we’re going to tell Chelsea. I'm not too worried about Smalls; he’s clearly involved in enough shady shit with my grandmother back home to figure some things out, but Chelsea would freak out if she was even allowed to know the truth.
My phone beeps with a message and I pull it out, noting the late hour. Where is everyone? I feel bad for getting lost in work and not checking in sooner.
The message is from Baxter, which immediately distracts me.
Baxter
It’s done.
Amelie
Thank you. Did you get any information?
Baxter
No. He was never going to spill. I just had some fun with him.
Amelie
Okay.
Baxter
You okay? Kalen told me what happened.
Amelie
Struggling, tbh.
Baxter
I had to Google that. It gets easier but I’m not sure that’s what you want to hear…
Amelie
I’ll bear that in mind for next time?!?
Baxter
You’re so badass, killing one bitch…maybe you should be Batman.