Page 55 of Straight Shooter

Mandy’s hold on his arm turned vicious. He swiveled to face her but didn’t release his death grip on Moretti’s collar.

“I know you’re upset, but you can’t act like this. It won’t get us anywhere.” She turned to Moretti. “Sir, you’re under arrest for suspicion of kidnapping and for ordering Agent Callahan to murder Ms. Risk.” She rattled off his rights as Eric moved forward and cuffed him.

Rhett caught Mandy before she could follow them out to the car. “You know this isn’t going to help. He’s just going to insist on having a lawyer present, and meanwhile, Beanie’s torturing Peyton.” His body shook with frustration. He was nowhere closer to getting Peyton, and every second that passed ensured she’d be dead by the time he found her.

“You’re forgetting something,” she said.

He frowned. “What?”

“Beanie wants something from you.” She pressed a phone into his hand. “Moretti was nice enough to lend this to you.” She winked and then escorted a scowling Moretti to the vehicle with Eric.

Rhett stepped outside and stared at Moretti’s large head as he ducked into the back seat. The phone sat heavy in his palm. One piece of information he held could blow this whole thing to pieces and bring back Peyton.

Jenny’s location.

Chapter

Twenty

“No! Stop!” Peyton thrashed against the restraints and jutted out her foot to catch Beanie in the shin. His bark of pain was momentarily rewarding, before his knuckles slammed into her cheekbone. Her head snapped to the side, allowing him to succeed at tying her wrists to the chair. She heaved a breath of rage, and pain radiated from her cheekbone to her skull.

He’d pay.

Beanie smiled and knelt in front of her. He reached for her curled hand on the armrest and yanked her pinky finger from its tucked position. “Tell me Jenny’s location or I’ll break this pretty little finger.”

Her pulse slowed to a dull hum as she watched his thick fingers circle her knuckle.

“What do you think, Len? Should I break one first or give her a minute to talk?”

She wet her lips. Fear retracted to a spring at the base of her tailbone. Instinct told her to run, to scream, but she couldn’t do a thing. Not with her hands tied. He hadn’t bothered tying her feet, but if she kicked him again, he’d do far worse than backhand her.

“You’ve got nine others to work with. Maybe she’ll talk quicker if you take out the pinky first.”

She tried to curl her pinky back but he held fast. He pressed his other palm down on the top of her hand and lifted her finger straight up. Then he slid his hand into the sensitive groove between her pinky and ring finger. A mewl of terror pressed through her lips, and she shoved down a scream. Squeezing her eyes together, she blocked out their mocking voices as sweat rolled down her neck. Every tendon in her body straightened, anticipating the sharp, piercing pain of her bone snapping.

“You know what? I’m a nice guy. Don’t you think, Peyton?”

Tears stung the corners of her eyes. She didn’t dare open them. If he saw how terrified she was, he’d break every finger in her hand with relish.

“You know Jenny’s location, don’t you?”

Her chest fluttered on shallow inhales.

“Answer me!” His voice shook and spit flung from his bottom lip.

Saliva swarmed in her mouth and she used her tongue to force it down her throat. Ice broke out on her skin, and the searing terror in her veins did nothing to cool it. Admitting that she knew where Jenny was would only endanger Max and her further. She had to stall as long as possible until help came. Then reality crashed down around her. Rhett was likely dead. Grief ripped her heart open.

She’d never see Rhett again. Never hear his laugh or feel his mouth on hers. He’d been in her life for such a short time, but everything he stood for was everything she needed—devotion and nobility. His arms were big enough to swallow every fear and insecurity, to inspire new dreams and a sense of freedom in her.

There was no one to look for her now. But she could still protect Jenny and get Max out alive. She lifted her lashes and stared over Beanie’s shoulder at Max’s slumped body. He met her gaze through one puffy, blackened eye. He blinked, seemingly pleading for her to give up the information, but her doing so wouldn’t help either of them. She had to stay strong, even if Beanie broke her finger—it’d be better than giving up Jenny’s information and dying immediately.

Beanie dropped her hand and stood. “Fine. You don’t seem too concerned about your own well-being.” He took a step back and rounded Max’s chair. Resting his hands on her friend’s shoulders, Beanie leaned forward. Max cowered, and his face contorted with discomfort.

She shot forward in her seat, but the restraints kept her immobile. The muscles in her legs jumped, aching to carry her across the few feet that separated them. Beanie’s stiff fingers dug into Max’s shoulders, and her friend cried out. Her blood heated to a boil.

“As you can see, Max already has a broken hand.” Beanie twisted Max’s wrist.

Max’s scream reverberated off the concrete surrounding them, shaking the walls of her chest. Her heart raced and she closed her eyes.