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Logan. Dark, poisonous, unadulterated grief. I felt it creeping up my back, smothering my breath and overwhelming every thought. The thick anguish coated my tongue.
I’d failed to save him. Like I’d failed Jason. Jason’s death was my fault, too.
The overwhelming guilt of not being next to Jason when he hit the rough surf haunted me, as did the fight we had before he left for the waves. If I’d have been with him, maybe he wouldn’t have hit the rocks. Maybe I wouldn’t have to know what someone never coming home felt like. We’d always protected each other, especially in the water. But I’d failed him. I wasn’t there when he needed me. Instead, he’d died alone.
Minutes of silence passed.
I shouldn’t have survived. There was no reason for my curse, for my light.
“I guess I need to motivate you a little more.”
He came to my side and leaned over the table to unlock the cuffs from the metal hook on the table. My wrists were still bound as he pulled me to standing. “You don’t need clothes in a dark cell.”
The words took a moment to sink into my mind. At first, I thought it was just my thoughts being warped by my own panic, but his vile stare made me believe I’d heard him correctly.
“No, please. I don’t know what you want to hear. I don’t know what I am!”
I had to get away from his hands. I needed every scrap of cloth covering me, protecting me against his stare.
“Please. Don’t do this,” I begged.
He ripped me from the table, and put his earpiece into his cargo pocket. Ruthlessly, he tightened the cuffs around my wrists as the chain that linked them to the table fell away. He gripped the back of my neck as he swung me to my feet.
I tried to dig my heels into the concrete, but the pressure at my neck increased. He dragged me head-first down the hallway toward my old cell. I landed on my knees.
He threw me onto the jagged rocks glued to the floor. It was meant to be uncomfortable, to hurt me more.
I searched for the light within. I needed it now more than ever. I scrounged for an ounce of the power that I’d felt earlier. I found it. A small speck, barely a spark. It felt so small. The all-encompassing glow that had brimmed under the surface of my skin, fighting to be released only last night, was now buried so deep I couldn’t bring it forth. I tried to pull on the small tendril at the bottom of my soul, but it was too weak.
I heard the click of his switchblade before it sliced down the back of my shirt.
I froze.
He shredded it with a few vicious slices. The edge of the blade nicked over my ribs, stinging every spot it sliced on my torso. Then the frigid air pierced my bare skin.
My chest hit the ground as I fell onto my cuffed hands.
My shirt was gone. It was shreds on the gravel floor. Only a thin sports bra created a barrier between me and the man now. Would he take it too? He couldn’t be that cruel. I needed that piece of clothing. It was all I had left to cover me, to keep my dignity.
I dared to glance into the doorway, fearing where the knife would go next.
A second man appeared beside my torturer. He was taller than the first—at least two feet taller. His face was obscured by the shadows from the hallway. In the dim light of my cell, I could tell he wore the same dark clothes, and his entire stature was massive. His towering presence reminded me of Logan.
“Anderson, I’ve got her from here.” The voice was strained, slightly clipped.
My eyes were too busy staring at the first man called Anderson. I was startled when my vision went black.
Oh hell, not again.
The cloth clung onto my face and mouth, suffocating me. With each breath, the material caught on my lips. I shook my head and jerked my body, trying to dislodge the material.
“Fine. She’s all yours.” Anderson released his crushing grip on my arm. He almost sounded disappointed.
I fell back into the concrete wall of my cell.
Anderson’s boot steps became lighter and disappeared while I waited for the remainder of my clothes to be ripped away.
I squinted, trying to see through the material. Before I could find the enormous figure, my world tilted upside-down.
My feet were not underneath me anymore. My wrists, still locked in the cuffs, were wedged in front of me, but my legs were in the air. I was carried like a sack of potatoes over the second man’s shoulder. Each step bounced my ribs into his shoulder.
His hands bit into my waist tightly as he held me in place. His strides were quick, even with my weight over his shoulder. The scent of pine trees and charcoal filled my nose.
The man was carrying me like I was a blanket, carelessly thrown over his shoulder. One hand came off my waist to open a door in front of him.
Why was he taking me somewhere else? He might want to finish what Anderson started. He was taking me somewhere to strip away the rest of my clothes. To do something worse than questioning me…
I kicked against the threshold and tried to buck out of his grip. I clawed my fingers into his back. “No! No!” I screamed.
“Stop it!” His hand struck my ass so hard I startled still. “You want to see Logan? I’m taking you to Logan. Stop fighting me.”
