Page 87 of Queen of Ruin

The warehouse given to us by the bounty hunter appears painfully vacant when we climb out of the car and my heart sinks, even as Cassian approaches from a vehicle already parked nearby. Several other carefully parked cars litter the road around us with the security teams Bradley called in.

“Is it true?” Cassian makes a beeline for me. “Raven thinks you’ve remembered something.”

“I’ve remembered everything,” I reply.

He suddenly sweeps me up into a tight hug and squeezes. “Oh, thank God. It was getting scary living without your little quips about my methods or my hair.”

“I can’t fault them anymore,” I reply. “You were helping me remember.”

He sets me down and smiles widely, then glances toward the warehouse while removing his gun from his holster. “And your man is in there?”

Bradley and Ruslan both cough slightly, hiding their smiles by becoming suddenly very interested in their weapons.

“My man?” I raise a brow, but surprisingly, I’m not that offended. “Yeah. He’s supposed to be.”

Cassian turns back to me and flicks the safety back on his gun. “Well, let's go get him for you, then.”

34

DIEGO

“Valentina Greko.” A man, whom I’ve dubbed Stain due to how much of my blood stains his clothes, walks back and forth in front of me while swinging a crowbar from the crook of his finger. “Is she really worth all of this trouble to you?”

I briefly close my eyes and swallow, wincing at the aching, burning sensation that rises from inside my throat.

I’m so thirsty. Every part of me feels raw and dry. I’ve no saliva left and my mouth is as dry as sand to the point that even my own blood provides momentary relief outside of the pain. The inside of my cheek is cut to shreds, thanks to my teeth having nowhere to go but deep into my own flesh after one too many blows to the face. It’s lucky my jaw’s even still in place because from the way it throbs even just opening my mouth, I’m one bad punch away from a dislocation.

Is it worth it?

Is the pain of being beaten and abused, cut into and torn open, drowned and electrocuted over and over by some makeshift stun gun worth it? Being tied down for so long that my knees and legs throb, my feet swell, and my heart beats low and slow because I’m at the peak of my exhaustion?

They don’t let me eat. They don’t let me drink.

They don’t let me sleep.

I’ve long lost track of time. It simultaneously feels like days and yet also no time at all. I tried to guestimate based on how the drill wound on my thigh looks, but I can’t remember when it happened or how it should look now. It’s a blur. Everything is a blur.

But… is it worth it?

“I asked you a question.” Stain stops walking in front of me, then he turns and catches my chin with the crook of the crowbar. “Is she worth it? All of this?” He glances down my body, then locks eyes with me.

“Y-Yes,” I croak through shaky teeth and a fat lip.

“Seriously?” He smirks. “You’re delusional. No woman is worth this. Because that’s all she is, remember? She’s just a woman. A woman who doesn’t care if you live or die, who doesn’t care where you are or even how you are. Has she ever asked? Did she ever really care?”

He slowly kneels in front of me and lets my head sag forward by removing the crowbar and toying with it in his hands.

“Y-Yes,” I repeat.

“Think about it,” he remarks. “Your whole entire life is ruined because of her. Your apartment? Gone. Sorry about that. Your place of work? Almost. You’ve been hunted across the county, beaten and tortured, and I’m going to kill you. All of which could be prevented if you just tell me where she is. Where she calls home. That’s all you need to do. Instead, you sit there and tell me nothing.”

“I-I said…” Talking is exhausting, but I push through. “Y-You should just kill me because I’ll never tell.”

“Her pussy can’t be that good.” He snorts, slowly climbing to his feet. “Ain’t no way she’s that fucking special.”

He’s wrong.

He’s so wrong.