Page 114 of Shattered In Darkness

“I’ll kill you,” I spit. “You so much as lay a finger on her⁠—”

He releases my hair and stands. Brushes invisible dust from his sleeve. “See that, boys?” he says to the men at his back. “He thinks he’s the one in control.”

A fist crashes into my jaw from the side. I hear the pop before I feel it. More blood, thick, iron-rich. I rock with the impact. My head pounds, vision fuzzes.

He waits for the pain to settle, then crouches, eye-level. “What is Richard up to?”

“You’re scared,” I say. “You wouldn’t drag me out here unless you were.”

He doesn’t crack. Not a blink. He glances at his men. The nearest one, the one with the knee, unscrews a baton. It glints in the fluorescent light.

“Answer the question,” Marcus says.

“Fuck you,” I hiss. “I don’t give a shit about his plans. I took Lola for my own personal gain. That’s all that matters.”

He sighs, impatiently. “You’re not being reasonable, Brody. You’re not even being interesting.”

The guard slams the baton across my thigh. Hot agony flares up my leg. I choke down the noise, but it claws at the back of my throat. He does it again, lower, close to the knee. Pain swarms my body. Drowns out everything but the white-hot certainty: Lola.

He has her. Close enough to use against me.

Marcus lets the violence cool. He squats, forearms on his knees, and looks at me like a cat considering how to toy with a dying thing. “Last chance,” he says. “What did Richard send you for?”

“Richard doesn’t control me. Nobody does.”

He tilts his head. “You’re wrong. Everyone answers to someone.”

He signals, and the guard belts me in the gut. All the air leaves my lungs. My brain stutters. Lights, darkness, lights again.

I blink, spit a red string onto the floor. I can’t stop thinking about her. Lola. Lola. Lola. Her face, wide-eyed, ruined if he touches her. Her pulse, her body, under his control. The idea is poison. It eats me alive.

“You’re not going to get away with it,” I growl.

He stands, brushes off his coat. “You’re not listening, Brody. I already have.”

He paces in front of me, measured, like it takes effort not to kill me for sport. “Lola is here. On my property. Safe, if you cooperate.”

I jerk at the restraints. “If you fucking hurt her⁠—”

He steps forward and leans in. His eyes are black and bottomless. “You’ll what? Bleed for her? Die for her? So dramatic. Of course you would.” He steps aside so the light hits his face like a slash. “But you won’t get her back.”

For a flash, something primal almost takes the wheel. I would tear my hands off at the wrists to kill him right now. I would eat the flesh off his face, bite through tendon and cartilage. The hunger isn’t even human.

He circles again. Keeps talking. “You know, your mother wasn’t nearly as stubborn as you are. She stopped fighting. In the end.”

That’s the knife. That’s the edge.

Red blisters my vision. “You killed her. You killed my mother. You took Lola from me.” I can barely get the words out. “You’re a fucking monster.”

He offers the faintest shrug. “Survival of the fittest. And you? You don’t even rate, Brody. You’re just Richard’s garbage. Broken toy.”

He signals the guard, this time a blow to the side of my face. My head rings. Every nerve in my body riots. I try to focus on the warehouse. I try to paint her face on the inside of my eyelids, Lola’s eyes wide, lips parted, maybe terrified, maybe fighting.

I have to believe she’s still in the game. Still herself.

Marcus leans down, voice so soft it’s almost gentle. “You want her so much, don’t you? You’d burn for her. I can use that.” He pauses, letting the words hang. “Or I can hurt her. Tell me, which do you prefer?”

My ribs shudder. I glare at him, all hate. “If you touch her, if you scare her, I’ll rip you apart. I’ll do it slow, I’ll carve you up. You have my word.”