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22
Mercy
“The deal’s still on, right?”I said, picking up my pace as Wylder walked faster.
He flicked his gaze toward me for just an instant. “Deal?”
A chill unfurled in my chest. “I figure out who really killed Titus, and you help me take down Colt. You swore on your fucking blood. Don’t act like you forgot.” Was he going to claim my supposed betrayal had voided his promise somehow?
Half a smile curled Wylder’s lips. “Oh, that deal. Yes, if you can survive the next few days and you end up clearing Kaige’s name, I think even he’ll leap to your aid, yesterday’s performance aside. But for now I think you should focus on the surviving part, Princess.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. But I couldn’t imagine how he could put me through anything worse than the hell my father had. Wylder Noble had no idea just how much steel I’d built up beneath my skin.
I expected him to take me back to his section of the mansion, but instead he led me to an unmarked door and down a flight of stairs into what must have been the basement. The light dimmed as we descended. I pressed my hand against the wall for balance, willing back the spurts of panic provoked by the vague impression of the darkness crowding in on me. Basements and I did not have a friendly relationship.
Dank air met us at the bottom of the stairs. I crinkled my nose. We took a turn into a wide room where Kaige, Rowan and Gideon were clustered just inside. Kaige was talking to Rowan while Gideon scanned something on his ever-present tablet. All three looked up simultaneously.
“Is she ready?” Gideon asked.
A shiver ran down my spine. “Ready for what?”
The set of Rowan’s mouth made my stomach ball even tighter. Then the three of them stepped to the side. The sight of what lay behind them made me glad I hadn’t eaten since the small dinner I’d managed to scrounge up last night before my chat with Kaige.
A huge metal table stood in the middle of the room, looking as if its legs were melded to the concrete floor. The yellowy artificial light glanced off it—and off the sallow skin of the man sprawled at one end, naked except for a pair of blood-stained briefs.
I knew at a glance that he was dead. A bluish tint was already seeping over his chest. His hairy arms lay limp at his sides, his jaw hanging slackly open. That was all I could make out of his facial features. The rest had been battered violently: eyes gouged out, nose and cheekbones caved in so shards of bone showed through the torn flesh. I had no idea what he would have looked like alive.
No doubt that was the point—no way for any cop or other person happening on the body to easily identify him.
Even empty, my stomach lurched. The cloying scent of raw meat and drying blood assaulted me, and I covered my nose with my palm. Bile rose up my throat.
I forced myself to step closer, keeping my mouth firmly shut. I'd seen dead bodies before, but none quite so destroyed. Along with his mangled face, deep lacerations marked his arms, neck, and chest. He was missing a couple of fingers. His left ankle jutted at an odd angle that suggested it’d been fractured. Even as another wave of nausea rolled through me, I recognized the signs.
He’d been tortured. Not in here—there wasn’t any blood on the floor. They probably had some other room for that. Someone had sliced and diced him to see if he’d squeal.
I took a few slow breaths against my hand, gathering myself, and glanced at the guys. None of them showed a hint of sympathy for the dead man or my reaction to him. Was there a trace of contempt in Wylder’s eyes? He must have been waiting for me to burst into tears and flee from the room.
I drew my spine straighter. It was about time he figured out that Idefinitelywasn’t that kind of girl.
“Who is he?” I asked.
Wylder gazed steadily back at me. It occurred to me that the destruction of the man’s face might have also been to preventmefrom IDing him to anyone if I tried to pin the murder on the Nobles. They were still that suspicious of me.
The Noble heir raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “A prick who double-crossed the Nobles and got what was coming to him. He was selling information to a competitor, enough to screw us over in a deal and get someone killed.”
“And that wasn’t enough,” Kaige added in a rough voice. “He broke into one of our guys’ houses to try to steal Noble property, and the guy’s daughter came home early. That fucker, he— She was only thirteen, for God’s sake.”
His implication was clear. Any twinge of horror I’d felt at the man’s brutal death was swept away by rage. Raping achild? This bastard deserved every bit of violence they’d rained down on him and worse.
“How’s the girl?” I had to ask.
“As well as can be expected,” Wylder said. “We’ll see that she gets any treatment she needs to recover.” He tipped his head toward the dead man. “Her father conducted the torture to find out just how deep his betrayal ran. It was the best justice we could give him.”
My hands shook at my sides. “Someone should have cut off this asshole’s dick and shoved it down his throat.”
Wylder blinked as if startled by my vehemence. “Well, if that’s where you want to start carving, have at it.”
I jerked my gaze back to him. “What?”
