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I bristle. We’re far pastlikeand into much deeper territory.
When Finn notices my reaction, he smirks.Fucking bastard.No doubt, he said that on purpose to see what I’d do. Everything this man does is intentional.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, my tone clipped. “We’re not here to chat.”
Finn leads us through the old farmhouse. It sits pretty far back from the road, and the property is maintained just enough that it doesn’t look abandoned. Not that many people see it, other than a couple neighbors. My father’s house was mostly on the way, and it still took us forty-five minutes to get here.
I’m surprised Wren didn’t fall asleep during the drive. Part of me is worried that all the stress is giving her insomnia, which doesn’t help with the guilt I’m already drowning in. Between this, her loss of appetite, and her increasing nightmares, I’m ready to march over to Ludo’s mansion and set it on fire tonight.
You can’t,I have to remind myself.Not with Aubrey and the boys in there somewhere.
“It took me forever to find him,” Finn is saying as he leads us down into an unfinished basement. “He hasn’t been in contact with anyone, at least not in person.”
“But you think he knows?”
“I think I can’t pass up the opportunity. He’s the only one I’ve found in months.”
Wren is looking between us questioningly, but she already knows she’s not getting answers from me. If Finn isn’t going to tell her what he’s looking for, then I can’t, either. It’s not my place.
In the basement, Finn yanks on a chain that turns on a single lightbulb. It does little to illuminate the space, but it casts some light over a figure who’s hunched over and tied to a chair. He doesn’t look as beat up as I thought he would, which makes me wonder how Finn has been trying to break him.
The scene reminds me of something, but it takes me a second to place it. The cold, damp basement, this guy tied to a chair, the lone lightbulb—it’s similar to the cellar Jordan almost killed Wren in.
“Sweetheart.” I turn my back on the man and Finn to look at her. “Are you okay?”
Wren’s shoulders are higher than normal, and she’s standing with her feet close together. It’s like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible, but her voice is strong as she says, “I’m fine.”
I want to tell her that she can wait upstairs if she’d prefer, but she knows that. She’s down here for a reason, and while I may hate it, it’s possible that it’ll be good for her.
Dammit. What kind of life am I living that her watching me torture a man could possibly begoodfor her?
“Austin,” Finn says, “meet Rhett.”
“Who the fuck is he?” Austin asks as he struggles against the ropes binding him to the chair.
“The one who’s going to force every drop of information out of you.” Finn shrugs. “Or kill you if you refuse to give in. Whichever he wants, I guess.”
“You know I won’t talk.”
With a nonchalant sigh, Finn replies, “Death it is, then.”
“Fucking traitor,” Austin grits out.
Traitor.That’s the last thing Finn is. If anything, the organization Austin works for—the one Finn clawed his way out of—betrayedhim.
I throw Finn a questioning glance. When he nods, I grab a baseball bat that’s leaning against a table. Austin swallows audibly but keeps his mouth shut.
“Just be careful of his head,” Finn tells me. “We still need him lucid enough to talk.”
“I know that,” I say, my voice coming out more annoyed than I mean for it to.
Finn raises his hands. “Just making sure.”
He’s right to do so, but I won’t tell him that. My expertise is in killing, not extracting information.
I avoid his head entirely, going for his shins instead. The blow isn’t hard enough to break anything, but Austin still grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut.
“Where’s the new headquarters?” Finn asks.
