Chapter Forty-One
Erin
I blink awake, trying to remember why I feel so off-kilter.
My cheek is pressed against a foul-smelling surface and my limbs are stiff from the cold.
Rourke. I jerk upward. Next to me, Lydia is slowly waking.
We talked until late in the night and fell asleep with our backs together to keep us warm.
Hunger and thirst are gnawing at my insides, making my stomach churn.
I get up and pad toward the sink. The tap squeaks when I twist it, but water is flowing out.
At least we won’t die of thirst. I cup my hands and drink the water that looks and tastes like liquid rust. Then I look at the grime-stained glass window.
The morning light is filtering through the glass, making the cracks glint like spiderwebs.
I turn to Lydia. She looks haggard, and my heart clenches to see her so broken. I have to find a way out of here.
But before I can think of anything, the latch squeaks and the door swings open, revealing Rourke holding a gun. My stomach flips and I freeze.
He turns the gun to me. “Out, now.”
I can’t move, terror has me rooted to the spot.
“I said out! Or I’ll shoot your new friend.” He directs the muzzle of the gun toward Lydia.
“Wait—I’ll go.” I take a step forward, then another.
My blood is pounding in my ears and I think I may pass out.
Once I am close enough, he grabs my arm and drags me out of the room, slamming and latching the door shut behind us.
Then he presses the gun to my back and instructs me to walk down the dark hallway.
By the time we arrive in what looks like a storage area, I am shaking so hard that I fear my legs will give out.
Rourke directs me toward a corner of the big room where a desk and a few chairs are set up.
He motions to a chair and I obediently sit down.
Then he puts his gun in his belt holster and approaches to secure my wrists to the armrests with zip ties.
I am trapped. But since he is tying me up, it means that he doesn’t want me dead.
Right? For now. That stupidly gives me hope.
“So, Ms. Skye. Are you more inclined to talk now?”
I gulp but try to put on a brave face. “If you wanted to talk, you could have just asked me. Coffee and a cookie can do wonders.”
The slap comes so fast I don’t have time to brace.
One second he is standing a few feet away, the next my head snaps to the side, cheek stinging.
Before I have time to register what happened, he grabs my hair and yanks hard so that my face is looking up at his.
His eyes are ice-cold when he snarls at me.
“Shut your fucking mouth before I cut your tongue out.”
I nod numbly at him, eyes stinging.
“Don’t damage her, we had a deal,” drawls a voice behind the FBI agent, and my heart stops.
“Dave!” I shriek. Sure enough, he is walking into the room, unhurried. What is happening?
“Dave, help me!” I cry out. “Did Matteo send you?”
He steps closer, and my stomach drops to my feet. He is smiling smugly at me, and the glint in his eyes has nothing to do with his usual self. Nausea roils in my gut when the realization hits me. This man is someone I don’t know.
“Hello, Erin.” He gently cups my jaw to lift my face to the light, turning it to the side, as if assessing the bruise from the slap.
“Unfortunately, your precious Matteo is busy. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you now.
” His predatory leer sends a shiver down my spine.
He turns toward Rourke and hisses, “I told you not to touch her. She’s mine until I’m done with her. ”
No, no, no!
I struggle against the restraints and shake my head, not believing the truth my muddled brain just stitched together.
They are together. But why?
“Dave, you have to let me go, I don’t know what is happening, and I don’t know anything about Matteo’s business. I won’t tell anyone about this, just let me go, please,” I beg.
“We already know everything about his business,” Rourke sneers. “Tell us about Manticore.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. Shit, that’s bad .
“I have no idea what that is,” I lie.
“Don’t lie,” Rourke sneers. “We know that you are helping Di Rossi.” He turns toward Dave. “You sure that she knows anything, and he’s not just keeping her around for a quick fuck?”
Dave grabs my chin and turns my face up with a chuckle.
“Don’t trust her angel face. Erin is brilliant.
She is definitely working for Matteo, that’s when he’s not screwing her.
And she might even know the other guy .” He holds my jaw in a dead grip and crushes his mouth over mine.
I clamp my lips shut and struggle as best as I can with my bound wrists until he pulls back with an amused laugh.
Who is this man? I realize that I don’t know him, never did.
Icy claws wrap around my heart and I can’t breathe.
Rourke watches me with a speculative gaze. Then he leans over me, hands on my tied wrists. “Is it true? You know the other guy, the Tracker? And what do you have over Manticore?”
I shake my head again, taking the risk of playing dumb. “I swear, I know nothing. Matteo, he…hired me to have me there when—”
Crack .
The slap resounds in the large empty space like a thunderclap. I sob, more from the emotional strain than from the sting. “I swear I—”
Crack .
My head snaps to the side once again and the successive sudden movements make me dizzy. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
“Stop it, man,” Dave barks in an angry voice. “I told you not to—”
A loud gunshot cracks and suddenly there is deafening silence. Then I look at the scene. Dave is lying on the floor, a growing red patch on his chest. His face is stunned, immobile. Dead.
I scream. And scream. I keep screaming until my throat is raw.
When I can breathe again, I look up at the FBI agent through my tears. He seems utterly unfazed, casually leaning against the desk and holstering his gun again.
“As you see,” he says in a bored tone, “I’m serious, so you better answer my questions, or the girl is next.”
I am still sobbing and breathing too fast, but I nod frantically, just to appease him.
“Manticore,” he goes on. “Di Rossi brought you in to investigate them?”
I nod again.
“How much does he know?”
“Not much,” I whisper hoarsely. “They’re good at hiding.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He takes a step forward.
“A message,” I say hastily. “I’ve…found a message but Matteo doesn’t know about it, I decided to investigate it first before telling him.”
That gets his attention. He is studying me now. “What message?”
“Geryon.” I watch his face turn somber. “There was a message in the darknet. It was a meeting request with someone named Geryon.”
“That dimwit.” He looks down at Dave. “He said he’d taken it down right away after sending it.”
No way. Dave sent the message and Rourke… Realization crashes into me like a freight train.
“ You …are Geryon,” I whisper, stunned.
He sneers. “You’re not half as dumb as I’d thought. Maybe you can be useful, after all.”
He takes his gun out and holds it under my chin. “Now tell me who the Tracker is. I want his identity.”
The tracker?
“I…I know no one with that name, I swear.” Fear is clawing at my insides, making bile rise in my throat.
“Don’t play dumb with me. I want the guy you are working for, the one who is tracking us from the shadows. I need to take him down before he finds out too much.”
Understanding crashes through me. He’s after… me .
He must sense my shift because he is pressing the gun harder against my jaw.
“I-I know their identity,” I whisper. His eyes gleam in victory.
“I can show you. Their ID is locked in a secure vault. I know the access.” I nod toward the laptop on the desk.
He watches me for a beat then chuckles. “Do you think I’m stupid? I won’t risk you touching a device and alerting anyone. You will guide me through to this vault.”
This is it. Game over. But I’m as good as dead anyway, so I’ll make it count. I just hope that Matteo will be here fast enough to rescue Lydia.
At this moment, I come to the realization that I trust him. Completely. Unconditionally. With my heart, with my life. And I’ve never told him. Grief and regret claw at my throat, making it difficult to breathe. But it is too late for regrets now.
For the next half-hour, I guide Rourke through strings of characters and cyber mazes to the information that will cost me my life.