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Luna
When I woke up this time, I was in the same chair, but now each ankle was individually duct-taped to its legs, and my arms were yanked behind my back, my wrists bound so many times that my fingers were already going numb. One of the men stood in front of me with the tape still in his hand, watching me—waiting for any sign I’d breach his work, I guess.
A warm trail of liquid dripped down my temple as my eyes once again adjusted to the light. Franco stood to the side of the duct-tape man, raising a cell phone.
“Nice try, hiding this,” he said, holding it up to my face to unlock it. He spent a minute scrolling around my apps, I presumed, before handing it off to one of his guys. “Go through her messages, her emails, too, if you can. Just to be safe. Look foranyinformation that could compromise us.”
Then Franco walked back over to me and snarled, “You’re lying to me. My men see no concrete signs of a targeted sting operation at the ports.”
“I told you, I don’t know anything!”
“And I told you, I don’t believe you. We’ve seen increased police presence at two ports, but it’s inconsistent. I need to know if that’s a coincidence or if we need to shut them down. Shutting them down is a problem, one I can’t create unless I’m certain it’s compromised.”
“I. Don’t. Know. Anything.”
Franco stepped closer.
“Want to know what I think?” His tone was cool and hauntingly calm. “That you believe I’ll eventually swallow your bullshit story that you don’t know anything and I’ll let you leave here. And by keeping your mouth shut, you’ll get to see us all busted.” He leaned down so his face was inches from my own. “But that’s not going to happen.”
He tapped my cheek, making me recoil from his vile touch.
“And I’ve run out of patience. So, you’re going to give me the information I want. If you don’t, Rafe here will offer you a little incentive.”
Franco motioned toward a blanket on the ground, which contained all sorts of scary paraphernalia. The blanket wasn’t there before. How long had I been unconscious, affording them the time to set this all up?
At first, my eyes settled onto the pliers, bolt cutters, axe, and a variety of other torture devices intended to pry information out of me that I didn’t have. But they quickly slid right past those and focused on the roll of duct tape, a tightly wrapped role of plastic sheathing, and just past the light, a shovel.
My stomach roiled.
“Now, this can go the easy way,” Franco said, as if my entire world hadn’t just imploded around me. “Or the hard way.”
The white-hot rage that had been boiling inside my body now simmered in despair.
If they planned to torture me for information I didn’t have, how long would that torture go on?
It took considerable effort to hold back the burning in my eyes. I refused to show them weakness by crying in front of them.
“Did Dominic give you port names?” Franco said with irritation.
“I told you”—the strength had left my voice—“I don’t know anything. You could spend however long you want torturing me, or you can accept the truth now.”
Franco stopped in front of one of the lights, his body transforming into an ominous silhouette.
A few quick tugs of my arms and ankles confirmed I was tied down so tightly, I was royally screwed with no hope of escape.
And with no information to barter with, I couldn’t talk my way out of this, either.
“Rafe.” Franco nodded with his chin toward one of the men.
My spine straightened as I watched the bald-headed man set his gun down on the cement and amble over to me.
Fear was a funny emotion. Normally, it might make me cower, but this time, a volcanic explosion of anger burst through every cell of my body. They might do horrible things to me, but I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me scared.
I met his angry gaze as he raised his giant palm in the air and slapped me across my cheekbone so hard, I could taste blood.
I yelped and jerked at my hands and my ankles so harshly, that the muscles in my shoulders and legs threatened to tear.
The four men laughed at me—their chuckles echoing through the empty warehouse like an infestation.
