“Yes, sir.”
Dex’s hearing picked up chatter, and when he turned, he found one mercenary talking to himself, or rather to whoever was on the other end of his earpiece. Someone was giving these guys orders, and Dex was willing to bet that someone was the Chairman. Dex took the opportunity to strike and slammed into the guy from behind. They both tumbled to the ground, and Dex fired before the guy could get off a shot. He stole the guy’s earpiece and listened in time to hear a man growl on the other end.
“I want both of them alive. Kill everyone else and burn the place down. You know what to do.”
Dex’s blood ran cold. It couldn’t be. He knew that voice. They’d spent hours talking, even laughing together. Sloane shouted from somewhere behind him.
“Dex, look out!”
All he had was seconds. He spun and shouted, “Wolf!”
Wolf took off toward him, but Dex knew he’d never reach him in time. That wasn’t why Dex’s last words were to a man who’d tortured him. He wasn’t looking for Wolf to save him. He was looking for the killer in Wolf, the man once referred to as Reaper. The last thing Dex saw before his world went black was the promise of retribution in Wolf’s gaze after Dex unearthed the traitor among them. The Therian who’d pretended to be their friend, all the while stabbing them in the back and tearing TIN apart from the inside out. The man who was here on this very property to celebrate his and Sloane’s wedding.
“It’s Winters!”
CHAPTER 13
FUCK. MY. Life.
Pain flared through every inch of Dex’s body as he stirred into consciousness. His brain was foggy, his head was killing him, and his body was on fire. Especially his shoulders and arms. Like someone was trying to rip his arms out of their sockets. He pulled his arms on instinct, only to be met with resistance and the clinking of metal. What the hell? His eyes flew open, and he jerked his arms again. His wrists were bound by thick leather cuffs attached to a thick chain hung over a giant metal hook dangling from the ceiling. His feet didn’t touch the ground, and he was missing another shoe. Who the fuck kept taking his shoes? A groan met his ear, and his head shot back up. He stamped down the panic that threatened to rise inside of him.
Just a few feet ahead and to the right, Sloane sat in a metal chair, thick leather straps across his chest and around his wrists and ankles. He was out of it, eyes closed and head hanging forward. Dex took in the area around them. It was long but narrow, shrouded in darkness, with a couple of utility lamps hanging from hooks on what appeared to be aluminum walls. The place was grimy, dirty, with questionable stains on the floor in several places. Several armored crates were stacked toward the far wall, and to the left of that, a steel table contained a laptop and several pieces of tech. A small silver-colored rolling cart was parked beside Sloane, another beside Dex.
“Sloane,” Dex hissed quietly. “Sloane, wake up.”
Sloane groaned, his head lolling to one side as he started to regain consciousness.
“Come on, baby. Wake up for me.”
Where the hell were they? How…? Everything came flooding back in a tsunami of pain and heartache. Oh God. This couldn’t be happening, and yet it all made sense. Everything finally fell into place. As if he’d had this huge jigsaw puzzle with all these pieces, but he couldn’t fit them together because there was one giant fucking asshole of a piece missing, and it had been under his nose the entire fucking time, right from the beginning, messing with them, waiting for the right moment to strike. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. All the fucking fucks!
“Hello, Dexter.”
Dex’s blood ran cold, and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. He grabbed hold of the chains attached to the cuffs around his wrists and pulled, bouncing and swinging. Nothing budged. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“Such language.”
Dex stopped struggling long enough to glare daggers at the man who’d shattered his reality. Really? Since when did swearing become obscener than torture, murder, and betrayal?
“I’m sorry, did I offend your oh-so-delicate sensibilities? Good. Fuck you, you fucking traitor! You underhanded, arrogant, sociopathic son of a bitch!” Dex was so livid, he was practically vibrating with fury. For years they’d bared their souls to this man, willingly and naïvely turning over every little detail of their lives, their loved ones, sharing their deepest, darkest secrets. There was no one Dex knew whose life hadn’t been touched by this man. Cael’s, Sloane’s… Tony’s. “We trusted you. We all trusted you. How could you look us in the eye, after everything you’ve done? How could you look my father in the eye?” Then he remembered his last words before everything had gone dark. Suddenly he found himself grinning.
Winters came to stand before him, his hands shoved in the pockets of his gray slacks as he tilted his face up to study Dex. “You seem to be rather pleased with something. Would you care to share?”
“I’m pleased because whatever happens to me, your days are numbered.” Dex’s grin widened as he met Winters’s eyes. “He knows.”
Realization dawned on Winters, the smugness falling from his face and making Dex laugh.
“That’s right. He knows who you are and what you did. There’s nowhere for you to hide. He’s going to find you, and when he does, he’ll make sure you get what you deserve. That’s if I don’t get my hands on you first,” Dex hissed. He flinched as his claws pierced his skin. A swipe of his claws was all it would take, and Dex wouldn’t hesitate.
Winters tsked. “My dear Dex. What kind of unsavory individu
als have you been associating yourself with? Have you forgotten he tortured you? Tried to kill you?”
“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten. Just like I won’t forget you’re the one who sent him after me. You paid him to torture me, to kill me. You’re the puppet master who’s been pulling everyone’s strings for decades. Shultzon, Moros, Wolf, Sparks… TIN. You’re so fucked, not even hell is going to want you.”
Winters smiled, his eyes cold and empty, like the man’s soul. “Let’s see if we can knock that cockiness down a peg or two.”
Good luck with that. Right now, his cockiness and anger was all Dex had. That, and the hatred he felt down to his core. Criminals he understood. Thugs like Hogan, Collins, and the Coalition he got. Hell, Dex even understood where a guy like Isaac Pearce was coming from. He might have been unhinged, but Dex could see how the guy had gotten to where he ended up, could pinpoint the exact moment the final thread of sanity snapped. Winters? The Chairman? This was why Dex had signed up to TIN, to stop monsters like him.