Page 96 of Lethal Weakness

“He’s not willingly handing us intel, Linden. We’re forcing it out of him.”

Torture?

“I can handle it.” My stomach disagrees.

Chapter Thirty-Four

O’Connor

This is a bad fucking idea. If I had any leverage left at all, I’d convince Linden not to go inside, but at this point, I’m on my knees for her. I’ll do anything she asks.

Anything to make her realize that I’m being honest.

I rap on the door to warn the others that I’m coming in, and ignore their disapproval when I help Linden in.

Her body stiffens as soon as she sees the man tied to a chair in the middle of the kitchen.

His face is swollen and bloody. His hands look much the same after having quite a few fingernails ripped off.

“Has he said anything new?” I ask Oni, the one in the Japanese devil mask.

“No, and I’m not sure he knows anything useful anyway.”

“Is he the one who killed them?” Linden asks from beside me, but her eyes are glued to the guard. “All those innocent people in the mansion?”

“Someone did,” Joker says from behind his all-white mask. “But he’ll be killed regardless.”

“We’ll leave before that happens,” I tell her softly.

“He can’t move?” She asks, ignoring me.

The doc, in his skull balaclava, shakes his head no.

Linden takes short, measured steps forward, wincing every time her right foot hits the ground until she’s standing in front of him. I’m a shadow right behind her, prepared to catch her if she falls, or to shield her from this piece of shit.

“I see you survived. Congratulations,” the guard says raspily, smiling with blood-covered teeth.

Before anyone can react, the sound of Linden’s slap fills the room, and the guard’s head snaps to the side.

He spits more blood onto the floor before righting himself in front of her, but his eyes are angry now, and it takes everything in me not to step between them. My hand ends up levitating near her hip, ready to pull her away at any sign of retaliation.

“How do I look, sweetheart?” He grumbles.

Her fists clench, and she winces, examining her knuckles. The bruises there are probably from last night, like the ones on her face. “Not bad enough.”

Rage so boiling that I have to grit my teeth to withstand it overtakes me. “Did he give you these bruises?” I grit out, angrily, and Linden twists in surprise, looking up at me as my arm circles her waist.

She nods stiffly. “I tried to fight back but…” Her fingers brush her cheek delicately as if recalling the pain that bloomed there. “He hit me harder than Turner ever did.”

“She went for my gun. Bitch deserved it,” the guard spits blood onto his lap.

“I wish I could have shot you in the head so no one else had to die!” She lunges for him like she might hit him again, but I stop her. I just don’t want her to mess up her hand anymore.

“Are we done here?” I’m not asking her, but she answers first.

“No! He deserves to suffer!” She cries, and I know she’s hit her limit. Linden is being consumed by the evil she’s experienced. This isn’t her.

I look at the other operators, seeking my answer.