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Bitterness welled inside me, then another scream sounded from somewhere in the warehouse, and though I flinched again, it was out of genuine shock.
A guy was being tortured in here.
What did I expect? For him to be listening to that godawfulBaby Sharkpiped on a loop for hours on end or for him to be made to pay physically?
I bit my lip at the thought, and like he knew I was wobbling, Finn rasped, “You don’t have to do this.”
“I do.”
I surprised myself with how deeply the resolve in my voice was layered. There wasn’t an ounce of give. As much as my body responded to the sounds, my mind was set on this path, and nothing was going to take me off it.
“Which way?”
“I’ll guide you,” he told me as his hand settled at the base of my spine, warning me, I guessed, that he was about to touch me.
A part of me wanted to slap that hand away, but when he steered me toward a section of the warehouse that was empty, I let him because we appeared to be walking into a blank canvas of space.
Frowning up at him, I saw that he cast me a look, but he remained silent, and suddenly, there was another scream. This time, I didn’t flinch, and the source of the scream made me realize that the noise was coming from this area but there was nothing here.
Then a door opened, and the aperture was seamless. It blended in with the wall perfectly, I saw.
The second Conor clapped eyes on me, he demanded, “Aoife? Is everything okay?”
As he moved toward me, his concern genuine, he brought a smell with him that had my sensitive nose rebelling the second it collided with my olfactory senses.
“Jesus, Conor, what is that?” I shoved my hand against my nose to combat the stench.
“Did you know that pigs are a close genetic relative of humans?”
I blinked. “What does that have to do with how bad you stink?”
“Scorched flesh smells like bacon,” Finn answered grimly.
My stomach twisted some, but I’d mastered butchery in culinary school. Sure, we’d chopped up pigs and sides of beef not humans…
“Why is he scorched?” I rasped.
“Because Kid likes electricity,” was Finn’s reminder, as I realized he’d said something like that before.
“What’s not to like?” Conor replied with a frown. “Very effective at doling out pain without having to get your hands dirty. I need mine for typing. I tried dictating but it’s not so easy with code. We adapt and evolve, don’t we?”
“Sure, I guess.” Uneasily, I looked up at Finn and saw he was shaking his head.
When he asked, “You sure you want to do this, Aoife?” it didn’t come as a surprise.
Conor huffed. “The bastard helped kill her mother, Finn. Of course she wants to do this.” He reached out and tugged on a strand of hair that hung loose from my ponytail. “All that red hair hides a fiery temper. This is the first time I’ve really seen it.”
I didn’t jerk away from his touch. Instead, I clasped his wrist with my fingers and asked, “Conor, why are you involved in this?”
Taking note that his pulse didn’t jump, I watched his reaction as he answered, “Ma asked me to.”
“Why?” I couldn’t understand why Lena would get Conor involved. “Why would she drag you into this?”
“Oh, for many reasons.”
“Can you tell me some of them?” I rasped, releasing my hold on his wrist as he gently dropped my hair. I huddled deeper into my coat as I stared at him. “I need to understand.”
The problem was, I didn’t want to offend him. Conor hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault this was happening. But he had a way about him that I knew, if I triggered it, he’d help me.
