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I jolt awake at the feel of icy water being tossed in my face. Fuck. Reality comes crashing in—my head is killing me, and my body feels like it’s been beaten to shit. I’m still wherever the hell they’re keeping me.
“Nice of you to join us, asshole,” Brian mocks.
“I’m not even going to waste one of my girls on you—I’m going to gouge your eyes out with my bare hands before I punch a hole through your larynx,” I seethe.
Brian’s eyes bulge, momentarily shocked, before smoothing into a sneer. “You don’t scare me, Jefferson. You’re about to be our bitch—all of the heirs are.”
I open my mouth to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about when the door opens behind me.
“Is the chip installed yet?” a vaguely familiar voice says.
I’ve heard it somewhere, but my focus isn’t the best. I know I’ve been here for at least a couple of weeks. I’ve been counting the one meal I get daily, but it hasn’t been enough to sustain me between the frequent beatings.
After I gave Grady the real Bobbit treatment, they used me as a human punching bag. I groan with each breath. I know I have broken and bruised ribs, the cuts on my back haven’t been cleaned except for the three times I was able to shower, and an almost lost molar.
“Not yet. We’re waiting on Scott to insert it,” Brian answers.
“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, Mr. Porter.”
My eyes spring open at the recognition of who’s in the room. “Mr. Jameson?”
“Ahh, you’ve finally figured it out,” Mr. Jameson exclaims, stepping around to stand in front of me.
“You’re a leader in the Fraternitas. What is it with you fucks that make you turn so easily?” I probe, genuinely hoping he answers.
The door creaks again, but I can’t turn my head to see who’s walked in.
Jameson pats my cheek. “That’s a story for another time,” he responds, then turns, “Scott, Mr. Jefferson is ready for you. Let’s make this quick. It’s time for the boy to go home.”
I never see who Scott is because there’s a pinch to the back of my neck, and then my eyes close.
I’m unsure how long I’m out, but I wake to mumbled arguing.
“I told you he needed to be in good condition to go home. So what the fuck is this?” a feminine voice snaps.
“He wouldn’t cooperate,” Brian stumbles, and I’d give anything to see the look on his face.
The sound of heels clicking against the ground in my direction registers in my ears, and I steady my breath, not wanting to give away my alertness.
“She’s going to blow a fucking gasket when she sees this.” I recognize the lilt to her tone just as Mr. Jameson gives her away.
“Miss Livingston, I think she should’ve planned for Mr. Jefferson not to align with her plans.”
Fucking Brittany. I should’ve gutted that bitch on our date. It’s not like we weren’t at the perfect location.
“Does he at least have the chip?” she asks.
“Yes. Scott inserted it into his arm an hour ago,” Brian replies dutifully. Kiss ass.
“Perfect. Give him another dose of the medication to ensure he doesn’t wake up on the drive back. If we fuck this up, she won’t be happy,” Brittany instructs.
I hear them moving to grab what I assume is the needle as the door opens and closes.
“Fucking bitches, always telling me what to do. I’m not an idiot,” Brian mutters to himself. “If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have known they were caught. I told them about you,” he says, slamming something down next to me. “I ran your precious Rubi off the road,” he unwittingly admits.
I’m going going to set this fucker on fire from the inside out.
“I told them when Meagan squealed at the diner. I told them when Vivian tried to sabotage their plan constantly in and out of Sebastian’s office. Who do you think helped orchestrate the bathroom incident—me,” he snarls, banging his hands against the table. “They’ll learn to respect me, or I’ll fuck them all over.”
