Page 112 of Heartless Sinner

The man with the shank stood.

“Nine.”

“Don’t do this!”

“Eight.”

I looked through the glass.

Sinclair stared back at me, frantically shaking his head.

Dad.

Sinclair.

I peeked over at the gun on the table.

What if choosing isn’t enough?

What if they make me do it?

“Five.”

“I can’t!”

“Then they both die.”

“Brooks!”

“Ticktock. Time’s up.”

He backed through the hidden doorway. The concrete panel slid shut between us.

The TV changed feeds to my dad walking alone down a prison hallway. A shadowed figure followed several steps behind him.

The man with the shank.

A scream ripped through the speakers from the other cell.

I turned toward the glass to find Brooks back in the room with Sinclair, a baseball bat in his hand.

He punched Sinclair in the face, making him scream.

“Stop screaming, or I use the bat!” Brooks warned him.

Sinclair clamped his mouth shut. His body trembled against the restraints.

Brooks grabbed the hanging microphone and faced me. “Make your decision, Daphne.”

He slid the bat under Sinclair’s chin and lifted his face. “You know this isn’t a game.”

My head started spinning when Brooks pulled the bat back like he was stepping up to home plate, then he swung.

I screamed as the bat stopped inches from Sinclair’s face.

A broken whimper came through the speakers.

I looked at the TV.