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The ink on Rynn’s neck was their calling card. A dagger with a snake wrapped around it, and the word Underground right beneath it.
The door slammed open, pulling me back to the present when the same two men re-entered, carrying a table between them. It was a narrow rectangular table, and panic tightened my chest when I noticed there were chain restraints attached to each corner of it. They set it on the floor, and one of them shut the door again. Forcing through the pain racking my body, I staggered to my feet, clenching my hands into fists.
“What the hell is this?” I looked at Gage for answers as the two men stalked toward me.
“Insurance,” Gage stated simply. “To make sure you stay quiet.”
“More torture?” I forced out a cold laugh. “You can’t break me.”
“I’m not trying to,” he replied casually. “You won’t say a word after this.”
One guy got within hitting distance, and I swung, hitting him across the jaw. Pain jolted down my body, but I spun around, lunging for the door. My hand was on the knob when an arm wrapped around my throat. I threw my elbow back, hearing Gage grunt as he dragged me toward the table. I fought with everything I had, but my body was weak, and even if my hits landed, it wasn’t enough for me to free myself.
“The faster we get this done, the faster you can leave,” he muttered, cutting off my air.
He twisted me around, slamming my chest onto the table. I choked out a breath, my battered ribs screaming in pain. The other two guys were ready, grabbing my arms and forcing the cuffs around my wrists. Gage hauled the rest of my body onto the table, and I lifted my head off the rough wood, craning my neck to see what they were doing.
“Stay still, or they’ll cuff your ankles too,” Gage said as a third guy entered the room carrying a black leather bag.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed.
Gage didn’t respond. He just flicked open his pocketknife and stood beside me. Panic tightened my chest when he gripped the back of my shirt. The tearing of fabric filled the room before the cool air hit my bare back as he cut my shirt. But my focus was on the bald man who was pulling items out of the bag he’d brought.
The first thing was a tattoo gun.
“Free ink?” I asked sarcastically. “Better make it good.”
I’d have whatever they were going to mark me with covered the second I was free. Although I wasn’t sure where they were trying to put it. My back was nearly completely covered already. The bald guy scanned my skin and then leaned toward Gage and mumbled something under his breath. I yanked against the chains, not caring when the metal dug into my wrists. But they were locked tight enough that I couldn’t slip out of them.
The man finished setting up, and I tensed when the tattoo gun touched my back. Right between my shoulder blades—exactly where my Disciples ink was. I jerked away, sliding halfway off the table before hands grabbed my legs. I managed to land a kick before they forced my legs down, and I yelled as they cuffed my ankles.
“If you don’t fucking stop moving, I’ll knock you out,” Gage threatened, stepping around the table until he came into my sight.
“You can’t cover that,” I ground out. If Chris found out I’d done something with my gang ink, he’d fucking flip.
“We’re not covering it. We’re adding to it.”
I stared at Gage. “What?”
“We’re giving you our mark,” Gage informed me as my blood ran cold. “The two of you will have matching tattoos now.”
A vision of Rynn’s neck flashed in my head, the bright ink under the black light.
“This is going to happen whether you’re conscious or not,” Gage warned as the tattoo gun pressed onto my spine again. “This way, if you tell anyone, then we tell Chris that you’ve been informing for us.”
Shock held me still when a quiet humming filled the air, and the familiar pricks of pain shot across my back when the guy began tattooing me.
“Chris wouldn’t believe that.” I didn’t move as I spoke, not putting it past Gage to actually knock me out. And seeing as my skull was still pounding from the last time his guys did it, I really didn’t want to deal with it again.
“He would,” Gage tossed back. “Because we’d plant all the hints to prove it. And no one carries our ink unless they work for it.”
I swallowed thickly, detecting no lie in his voice. If Chris thought I betrayed him, I’d be wishing I were dead. I wasn’t even sure he’d believe me if I told the truth. He always acted first, his temper controlling his actions. Stepson or not, the torture today would be nothing compared to what Chris would do if he believed their story.
“You’re getting the UV tattoo, like hers,” Gage said, lighting up another cigarette. “But you might want to keep it covered for a while. It takes up to a month to heal, and until then, it’ll be visible.”
Anger surged through me as the guy continued to mark me. I couldn’t cover this tattoo, and Gage fucking knew it. I couldn’t mess with my Disciples ink. Once gang ink was done, that was it. I couldn’t just redo it. If Chris caught me doing that, I was just as fucked.
No one spoke, the only sound was the humming of the tattoo gun, and I realized the guy was making this symbol as large as my Disciples one. The time dragged on, my body going stiff from not moving. Gage stayed in the room but didn’t pay any attention to what was going on as he scrolled through his phone. Until the door suddenly opened.
