Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
“Anyway, they had been the ones who helped Bethany out and set the club on fire. Tyson was torturing them at Ryat’s until he found you. Then had them brought here.” He walks over to one of them, pushing on his bloody shoulder. The guy lets out a moan from his taped lips as his body starts to sway back and forth.
I take a step back, my hands going to my face when I realize he’s hanging from a meat hook embedded in his back. My stomach starts to turn, and I give them my back. “I’m going to be sick,” I mumble to myself, but I hear Kashton chuckle at my unease.
“Come on.” He starts to walk to a door at the other end of the room, and I run through it when he holds it open for me.
This room is different than the last and I look over the bars on the floor. I frown. “What are those for?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
He looks over his shoulder and comes to a stop, answering, “Those are the pits.”
Pits? I stand over one. There’s a hole dug out of the floor, like a mini, square bathtub. But they have bars running across the top with three holes in them. The one in the center is bigger than the one on either side of it.
Looking up at him, I step away, not wanting to know what they put in there, or why. He smirks, turns, and opens another set of double doors. We’re in a new hallway, and there are doors on either side. It’s deadly silent down here. Nothing but my heavy breathing fills the dimly lit hallway.
It reminds me of a prison. One where they put you in solitary confinement. No light and no interaction with anyone. Just left alone with your thoughts and voices, causing you to go crazy.
“Here we are.” He comes to a stop at one of the doors. He reaches down and punches in a code on the outside keypad, and it unlocks.
My wide eyes look at him, and I have a moment of panic.
He checks the large watch on his wrist, and it looks out of place next to the nun tattoo. It’s a black and silver Patek Philippe—expensive and classy. My father has one like it. “I’ll give you five minutes to find out what you want to know. Then you’re done.” His blue eyes meet mine as he drops his arm to his side. “I have no problem dragging you out of there.”
Swallowing, I nod and turn to step into the room. It’s freezing cold and looks just like the hallway, nothing but concrete.
Looking over my shoulder, I make sure he doesn’t lock me in here, and I see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on me.
“Lake?”
I jump, and turn to look at the room, seeing my sister step out of the corner. I swallow nervously when I see she’s naked, chains around her wrists that connect to the wall behind her. Now I understand why he didn’t shut the door; she can’t escape even if she tried.
“Whitney.” My voice is rough, all of a sudden dry.
“Thank God, Lake. Please…” Her wide eyes go from mine to the open door. “Please get me out of here.”
“I can’t do that,” I say honestly. I don’t have that kind of power.
She bares her teeth, and the chains rattle as she yanks on them. “They’ve got me chained like an animal.” She holds up her wrists to show me the thick metal wrapped around them with padlocks in place. The links so short that she can’t be more than two feet off the far wall. If she were to sit down, her hands would have to rest in the air. This isn’t the Minson Hotel & Resort, for sure.
A quick look around tells me there’s no bed, not even a cot. There’s no food, water, or blanket. Just her, chains, and my collar around her neck. The sight has my heart racing with jealousy. I want it. Saint said she was going to take what was mine. She’s already accomplished that. I know Tyson put it on her for a reason, but I hate the satisfaction that she has from that one little thing. “Where have you been?” I decide to ask.
Her face grows red with anger. “Laikyn! Get me out of here.”
“Whit—”
“Where is Tyson?” she demands. “TYSON?”
I cover my ears, his name echoing in the small concrete box. “He’s not going to save you,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Not after what you did—”
“What I did was what you deserved,” she interrupts me.
I take a step farther into the room at her words. “What I deserved?” I ask, breathless as if the wind was knocked out of me. “I didn’t do anything.”