Page 87 of Dark Reunion

CHAPTER 33

DEAN

The door to solitary burst open with a crack that sounded like bones snapping. Dean jerked upright, ready for the fight.

Light stabbed through the darkness, but so many people charged in at once that he only managed to get two knocked down before hands grabbed him. The men were rough, gloved, and reeked of sweat. They clipped shackles on his wrists and ankles, hauling him upright by the chains. His boots scraped concrete as they released the chain from the wall and jerked him forward. His knees buckled, but the bastards didn’t care.

“Move it,” one barked, as they pulled him out of the tiny cell. The dull lights hurt his eyes, and he blinked to try and see where they were taking him.

Every step jarred the cuffs against his raw skin. The hallway spun with noise…curses, radios squawking, a woman screaming somewhere far off. It was the typical heartbeat of the compound, thrumming through the floor and bouncing off the walls.

They dragged him up a stairwell, through a door, and into a wide room glowing under yellow lamps. The office.

Carlos waited there.

The fucker stood by the window, suit immaculate, cigar smoldering between his fingers. He was wearing dress pants, but his shirt hung open like he was trying out for a villain with a cape. Dean almost burst out laughing.

Carlos turned as Dean was shoved toward the chair at the center of the room. It was one of the metal ones from the torture room, a throne built for cruelty.

“Mercurio,” Carlos drawled, rolling the cigar between his fingers. “You look worse than the last time I saw you. Sit.”

Dean said nothing.

Carlos nodded at a guard. The man kicked the back of Dean’s knee, and he hit the chair hard. Chains snaked around his chest, locking his wrists to the shackles on his ankles. He winced as his shoulders screamed from the unnatural position.

“I always wondered what it would take to break you. Turns out, not much. A cell, a few nights alone, and look at you…pathetic,” Carlos drawled, as he slowly sauntered closer until he stood before Dean.

Dean’s lip lifted in a ghost of a grin. “You talk too much, old man. You always have, and worse, you still don’t get that no one gives a shit what you have to say.”

The backhand came fast, rings cutting skin. Dean’s head snapped sideways, ears ringing. Blood pooled in the corner of his mouth, the metallic taste familiar now. He remained still.

Carlos smiled faintly. “Always the fucking smart mouth.”

Carlos thought chains could break a man like him, but the truth was, the only thing left inside Dean was fire. And fire didn’t break. It burned.

Dean knew what he fought and would die for. A beautiful wife that he loved with not just his heart, but his soul. Children who were his life. Maeve’s forgiveness. The team that had become family. They were the reason he was still breathing, even with every bone screaming in pain and his blood spilling across the floor.

The door opened again, and Keene strolled in like a man visiting an old friend, not a prison. He wore a flowered Hawaiian shirt and khakis, a 9mm tucked in the belt. He ignored Dean and wandered over to the far side of the room, reaching for a bowl of fruit on the desk. Picking out a grape, he popped it into his mouth.

“Do you ever knock?” Carlos growled.

Keene shrugged, finally looking at Dean. “You were expecting me. Why would I knock?” He smirked, an arrogant gleam in his eyes. He pointed at Dean. “Are you really going to kill your son? I mean, I don’t care, but I thought you wanted him to be your right hand?”

Carlos shot him a glare. “He’s a traitor. Snuck his family and my prized possession outside of the walls. That’s why I needed the extra men. They are going to fetch me what is rightfully mine.”

Keene paused, the next grape halfway to his mouth. “Wait…he got his wife and kids out and he came back? Why?”

Dean could see out of the corner of his eye that his father was caught off guard by the question. He looked between Keene and Dean, then back again.

Dean’s eyes found Keene’s. “You’re gonna wish you hadn’t walked through that door. You’re a disgrace to the oath you took to protect every soldier that is serving under you.”

Keene laughed, clapping once. “That’s the spirit! I like him.” Keene grabbed a strawberry and bit into it. “Nothing like watching a dead man throw out threats.”

Carlos’s patience was running thin. Dean saw it in the twitch of his jaw, the way he gripped the cigar like he wanted to drive it through someone’s eye.

“Enough of this. Son, if you want to die a quick death, then tell me where she is,” Carlos negotiated. “Tell me where Isabella is hiding, and I’ll even promise to leave your family alone.”

Dean met his gaze. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t hand her to you.”