Chapter 4
Monk
Istretch my limbs, having slept better than I have in a long time. For the first time, I didn’t spend the night reliving some awful nightmare. Instead, I spent it dreaming about the fear in his eyes. He can put up a good front, but I know he’s rattled.
In fact, it’s time to check on my little pet and see how well he slept.
I open my surveillance feed, not surprised to find him trying to get out of his restraints again.
Maybe I should put him out of his misery and remove them.
I’d rather him know that I destroyed him without needing an advantage anyway.
He needs to know he’s weak. His pain will be that much worse, knowing he couldn’t even get in a single punch.
But before I go and say good morning to my little prisoner, I need to take care of some business.
I open his phone and shoot off the necessary messages, making sure to touch base with all the key players in his life.
People who will be worried if they don’t hear from him.
It’s truly amazing to see just how many people truly care about him, checking in to see how he’s doing.
Offering to bring by soup and leave it outside his door.
Hunter Sorent is a total bastard, yet it’s like I’m the only one who sees the truth. I’m the only one who knows his evil.
His father is the last one I need to contact. His text message came in before the fucking sun came up this morning and I still haven’t opened it. He should assume that his sick son is sleeping, so there shouldn’t be a flag raised.
Dad: I don’t care what the doctor or anyone else says. Covid or not, you better not miss that meeting with Colannas. You need to make that deal happen, Hunter. Or else you know what happens.
Bingo. This is exactly what I’m looking for. It’s time to look into Colannas and find out the reason his father gives a shit about whether Hunter’s company solidifies this so called “deal” with them. Raynor Sorent is a criminal attorney; he shouldn’t care about what’s going on in Hunter’s business.
But after an hour of searching, I still don’t have an answer. Maybe it’s time to go get some answers out of my prisoner. Besides, he could probably use a break from struggling with his restraints. I’m sure his wrists are raw by now.
I prep some food first, wanting my pet to be well nourished during his final days.
I don’t want him mentally excusing his weakness on being starved and frail.
He’ll be healthy and strong, breaking slowly.
One bone at a time. Knowing that the only advantage I have is my brute strength.
Which is why I need to cut the ropes off.
I enter the room to find him screaming out for help.
He was asleep for the three-hour tour up the mountain and has no idea that there isn’t a soul around for miles and miles.
This land is private and treacherous. The only way up here is on my private road, which is gated off at the bottom so no one will just happen upon this cabin and hear someone calling for help.
“No one will hear you. It’s about twenty miles from me and any neighboring property.”
“Where the hell am I?” His voice sounds hoarse. He must’ve been yelling for a while.
“Boon Ridge.”
I unlock his cage, tugging him forward, and pull my sharp blade out. “Relax, pet,” I say as he flinches. “I’m just going to release your hands.”
He looks as if he doesn’t trust me. He shouldn’t. But right now, my goal is to coax him into security. To make him feel like he’s in control again. I want to lure him in, and then…I’m going to shred him apart.
“There,” I say, cutting some slack in the rope and sitting back, admiring the bloody wounds around his wrists. At least he suffered a little pain this morning. “Now you can eat.”
His eyes go to the plate of food I brought, and he shakes his head. “I’m not eating that. You probably poisoned it.”
I grab half of his sandwich, taking a huge bite out of it, and chew. “Suit yourself. By the way…” I swallow it down. “Your father sent a message this morning. Said you better not let the Colannas deal fall apart. You want to tell me the reason he’s so concerned with your business?”
Hunter looks jarred by my remark, but he quickly tamps it down. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
I lean forward, pressing my knife into his neck. Not enough to do damage, but enough to draw blood. “Oh, but it is. Now, answer the fucking question.”
He winces as I press in deeper. “He told some friends about the merger. If my company acquires Colannas, our stock will go up, likely double if not triple. He wants to ensure they don’t lose on their investment.”
“Tsk…tsk…tsk…” I shake my head, drawing the knife up to the side of his temple, tracing a line across his cheek, a line that matches the line of my scar.
“Someone’s doing some illegal dealings. I thought your father was a man of the law?
” I feign my shock. Sorent is scum, and his son is plucked right from the same tree.
But thanks to this insider tip, I have one bullet locked and loaded already, and when I pull that trigger, I’m guessing some very important people are going to be extremely upset.
Because that deal is never going to happen.
I’ll be offering Colannas a better deal. One they’d be stupid to refuse.
I sit back, pointing the end of my sharp blade at his plate. “Now, eat.”
He picks up the sandwich and the reluctance is burning in his stare, but he takes a bite, chewing slowly.
As though the speed in which he eats will save him if the food has been poisoned.
I have no intention of poisoning him. That’s a weak attack.
I’m winning this war with honor. Strength, power, and wisdom will take him down, not some toxic drug.
“What else is daddy dearest up to these days?” I spin the sharpened point of the blade against the tip of my finger, the pain soothing my nerves. “Is he still paying off judges to side in his favor?”
He gulps down his food, tightening his stare.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes, pretty boy. And don’t worry, his secret isn’t safe with me.”
“What makes you think that an ex-convict like yourself has any kind of power? My father will chew you up and spit you out for breakfast.”
Oh, how wrong he is. And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I play my hand.
Now, that the pet has been fed, I think it’s time for a little story.
“You hear a lot of stories on the inside.” I take my seat on the chair, giving him space, a sense of comfort. Watching as his eyes dart to the door. I’d love to see him make a run for it. It’d be entertaining as hell to see him get snatched up by one of my traps outside.
“There was one story,” I continue, “that kept getting repeated. Retold by different prisoners. Similar plot line, different characters.” Always the same shit ending.
“It was a story about an innocent man being accused of a crime he didn’t commit.
But even though there was no evidence proving his guilt, he’d been found guilty and given the maximum sentence.
Each story may have had a different hero in it, but the villains were always the same.
The same judge, and”—I lean forward—“the same prosecuting attorney. Who just so happened to have your last name.”
He actually looks like I’ve just told him a horror story, but it’s hard for me to believe he doesn’t know the truth about his dad.
The two of them are practically bonded at the hip.
They fucking text each other every day, and have dinner once a week.
You can’t tell me his father has never shared his great wisdom with his son.
He probably gave him weekly pep talks on how to be an asshole and screw people over to get ahead in this world.
He certainly never taught him how not to be a bully.
“You’re listening to a bunch of convicted felons. Of course, they’re going to pass the blame and claim they’re innocent. My father would never bribe anyone. He’s the best attorney in the state for a reason. He doesn’t have to pay anyone off to win a case.”
I shake my head, wanting to wring his dishonest neck, but I’ll play his game— for now.
If he wants to swear his allegiance to his father, so be it.
But soon enough, the truth will prevail, and daddy dearest will get to see exactly what it’s like living behind bars.
Only, it will be for a hell of a lot longer than five years.
I can’t wait to hear how he does on the inside with all the innocent men he convicted.
He may not even last five years. He may take his own life before that.
“Denial is a straight path to your demise,” I state, shaking my head. “Now, let’s play a game, shall we?”
His nostrils flare as the angry pulse at the side of his jaw starts to tick from how hard he’s grinding his teeth. He’s still holding steadfast to that arrogance, still letting the anger fuel him, but he doesn’t realize how weak it makes him.
“We’re going to play truth or pain,” I say, fighting back the urge to carve the line down his rigid face. “I’m going to ask you questions, and if you answer honestly, you’ll get to breathe freely. But if you refuse to answer or decide to lie, you’ll get to pick your point of pain.”
I contemplated torturing everything out of him, but if he’s writhing in pain, I’m not sure I’ll get the information I need. So, the game it is.
“We’ll start with an easy one. Why me?” I never understood what I did to deserve his wrath. There was a sea of people in my high school, and I was a worthy soldier. I kept my mouth shut. Did all of his work without argument. Never once ratted him out. So, why was I the chosen one?
“Because you were a scared little shit,” he snarls. “You were pathetic and made for an easy target. Plus, I didn’t like seeing your face.”
It all comes flooding back in. The look in his eyes every time he slammed his fist into me. The pure hatred that penetrated in every punch.