“The accommodations arefine. A bit better than some I'm used to, a bit worse than others.” I watched him intently as I spoke, looking for any sign of howhemight feel about our surroundings. All I saw was the same distaste he regarded me with, “Though I don't feel any more at home here than you do.” That was a guess, a bluff, and I hoped it wouldn't bite me in the ass.
His smile grew, “No, I suppose I don’t.”
His eyes ran over me, lingering on the wound in my head with enough attention to make me uneasy. Could he tell that Mila cleaned it? He stepped forward, turning his head to the side in interest. Like one might when deciding which little pig they'd like from the market. He made the slightest movement as if he was going to lunge at me.
I flinched hard, ruining my show, and he smiled as if to say,You were so obvious all along.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” he continued, now that he had returned us to the playing field he had in mind rather than the level one I still aimed to reach. “My name is Daniel, and I'm a good friend of your husband,” I made a sound of disbelief in the back of my throat. “Now, now, don’t sound so skeptical. We’ve known each other since we were children.”
Daniel, I knew that name. This was Mason's friend. The one he'd gone out with a few weeks earlier—the same person who tipped Mason off about the “girls” being brought into the shipping yard. Casey died because of that.
“You kidnapped, beat, and starved his wife. That doesn't sound like much of a friend, Daniel.” There were no kind motives here. We both knew I wasn't buying any of this shit, and yet he enjoyed spewing it.
Mason still doubted Daniel had intentionally betrayed him. He didn't trust him and planned to kill him to be safe. But he left space for the possibility that his friend didn't know the truth. I realized then that the man I loved was much more optimistic than I ever believed.Ileft no room for possibilities, unlike Mason. Daniel knew exactly what he was doing when he killed Casey. The only problem was that he was aiming at my husband. He missed, and I would see him dead for his attempt.
“If you’re such wonderful friends, why hasn’t he introduced us?” I modulated the hate in my tone into something fitting of my captor rather than someone who murdered a kid in cold blood because he failed to kill the one person I needed.
“Have you met many of his friends?” I grimaced. So far, he was winning this guessing game. “Ah,” he answered as if that expression was all the confirmation he needed.
“I’m sure he intended for us to meet in time. I knowIdid.” He stepped toward me, leisurely closing the distance between us as if he was savoring my building nerves. “Congrats on the wedding, by the way. I never thought the old dog would trick you into it, except you seem like the malleable little mouse a man like him needs.” He kneeled before me, trailing his hand along my face, and patted my cheek. “Too bad you're not prettier,” he cocked his head to the side again, considering, “and in better shape.”
Because I was tired of being anything mouse related and had no problem being ugly, I spit in his fucking face, “Don’t talk about my husband!”
A hint of fury sparked in his eyes and mixed with something akin to excitement. He wiped away the saliva and backhanded me with it in one fluid motion. I yelped as my head whipped to the side. I blacked out for a moment and came to, wondering when my brain might melt from the concussions.
A few painful but quiet moments later, his voice trickled back into my consciousness, “I'm not going to be too hard on you, Claire.” He gently wiped the rest of my saliva against my face. Blood dripped from my lip, the metallic taste making me nauseous. “Not until your husband gets inside, anyway. He just pulled up with a whole army to come and get you. But do you want to know a secret?”
Hope blossomed inside me.Mason is here.“No,” I answered, unwilling to play his game with my husband so close.
He leaned back, letting the dim light fall on his hands, revealing the knife he held an inch from my stomach. I knew without a doubt what his secret was.
“He’s not going to save you. But you’re going todestroyhim.”
Chapter 24
Claire
Istaredhimdown,unwilling to say anything. In part because I knew there was nothing for me to gain, but more frighteningly because I gave credence to what he said. Mason would do anything for me, and that may include a suicide mission. He was here for me, and there was no faking in Daniel's excitement. It oozed from his every pore.
When Mason told me most of his secrets, he included his struggle with suicidal ideation. He swore to me that while he thought of death affectionately at times, he didn't honestly want to die anymore. But I knew without a shadow of a doubt he was more ready for that than I was willing to let him go.
“Don’t look so sad,”Daniel, thefriendwho talked him out of killing himself once, gripped me by my hair, pulling me into a standing position. I wailed in pure agony as the cut along my scalp protested. I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could. All my dreams of fighting him, of reckless defiance, flew out the window when I understood how easy it was to cause a person that much pain.
“Come on, let's go have some fun!” he shouted the words happily over the sound of my screams. Once I was stable, and on my feet, he loosened but didn't release his grip. “Look at those tears. I bet that hurt, but it will teach you not to cross me,” he patted my cheek roughly, making a wet slapping sound. “But,I still haven’t decided which lesson is right for the little bitch who tended your wound.”
“She didn't do anything,” I spit through the tears, my voice shaking with my trembling body. Daniel yanked harder, drawing another shriek, making me realize this torture hurt so much worse than receiving the original injury. I had never been intentionally tortured. Beaten, shot, and threatened with the vilest shit? Absolutely! Though that level of physical abuse was entirely different.
“This whole place is under surveillance, you idiot. I've been watching you dig through your in-laws' things and the blonde bitch creeping around this basement as if it might actually get her somewhere for days. And if she hadn’t helped you, you wouldn’t know who I was talking about.”
I, he said it more than once, not we, lending legitimacy to what Mila had said about David Sharp. “Where is your boss? I’m assuming he’s the one I should really be talking to.”
“Move your ass, and you can speak to him.” He released my hair, giving me an instant sense of relief that only lasted a moment before the remaining pain registered. I stepped forward on shaking legs, doing my best to obey when I was more likely to vomit and fall.
Something hard hit me in the back, and I slammed into the carpet, knocking the breath out of me. “I said move your ass, not take your time.” I tried to roll onto my back, but he stopped me with his shoe. The same shoe he kicked me to the ground with, I realized as he pushed his weight into me, cutting off my attempt to catch my breath, “Are you ready to try again?”
“Please,” I whimpered with my last pathetic breath.
“That's better.” He lifted his foot, “Now get the fuck up and don't make me wait this time.” I pushed myself up with strength I didn't know I had and walked forward until he ordered, “Turn right.”