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“What did you have in mind?” Matthieu shoots back.
I steeple my fingers and smile. I’ll let him enjoy his temporary victory because I know he’ll lose. “We can figure that out later.” I stand, “For now, my brothers and I have a fish to scale.”
“Wake up,” I shout, slapping the unconscious fucker across the face.
Grady’s head whips to the right so hard and so fast that I wonder how his neck didn’t snap. Blood sprays as a tooth flies from his mouth.
“Fucking pathetic,” Wes seethes, wrapping his fingers around the hook-tipped tow chain. “I strongly suggest you realize how screwed you are and stop protecting the Senator. He doesn’t give a shit about you.”
When he remains silent, Wes launches his chain-wrapped fist into Grady’s ribs.
“Go. . . to. . . hell,” Grady wheezes, and I have to give him credit begrudgingly. We’ve been at this for about two hours, and he continues to be obstinate, revealing nothing.
I watch as Lev disappears into the back room. “If I were you, I’d speak up. You see him,” I point in the direction Lev went. “Out of all of us, he’s the most sadistic. Obsessed with watching people die in the most gruesome ways.”
Grady’s one good eye widens in fear. “You’re finally understanding you’re in the belly of not one but five beasts,” Owen says, yanking his head back before dragging the fish scaler down his face.
“Ahhh! Pl—” Grady wails, ready to beg, but no one in this room will grant him a moment’s peace, even in death. That’s why this room is so fitting for where he’ll meet his end.
I peer around at the rich crimson and obsidian colors in this space—like a place Dracula or Lucifer would readily call home. My gaze trails over to the bar, where scarlet-tinted decanters line ink-black shelves before moving to the four-poster bed with the headboard made of skulls painted black. What people don’t know is that each skull was a victim, and I think I’ve found Grady’s spot.
My attention returns to where Grady is chained to the wall by his wrists and ankles as Lev returns with a bottle. “Acid?” I ask when he stops beside me.
“Something better,” Lev gleams. I quirk my brow in question, but he only replies, “Soon.”
Coughing up blood, Grady spits, hitting the front of Wyatt’s shirt. “You idiots. . . are over. . . your. . . heads.”
“We need answers, Wy,” I warn, knowing what’s probably coming next could kill him.
Wyatt briefly meets my eyes before darting forward, grabbing Grady’s Adam’s apple, and slamming his head against the cement wall. “I think you’ve miscalculated,” Wyatt begins as Grady attempts to turn from Wyatt’s hold, but he’s being rendered immobile.
“Your importance in this situation. We don’t need you,” Wyatt growls. “Senator Matthew Baker and his mildew cunty wife will die regardless of your unwillingness to answer our questions.”
I’m so distracted watching Wyatt that I don’t see Wes and Owen move until they’re standing on either side of Grady to hold each of his eyes open with gloved hands.
Lev strides forward, and I say, “This is your last chance to do this the easy way, Grady. Whatever happens after this refusal will be on you.”
“Fuck. You,” Grady garbles just as Wyatt moves slightly to the side, never releasing his hold, making room for Lev.
“Hold him still. You don’t want any of this on your skin,” Lev commands before dropping something in each of Grady’s eyes.
The shrill cry that Grady bellows echoes throughout the room. They all release him and move back as Grady whips his head around, uselessly trying to free his arms to rub his eyes.
“If I were you, I’d stop all your shaking and tell us who’s backing Senator Baker, or you might miss the window for the anti-venom,” Lev states.
Grady freezes before he screams, “What did you do to me?”
“We gave you some incentive to stop wasting our fucking time,” I retort. “Now, who ordered you to orchestrate an attack on us?”
Grady’s head falls. “The Senator’s wife.”
“I’m going to let that bitch choke on her overinflated lips,” Wes barks, then whirls to look in Lev’s direction. “She dies. That cunt is done. Release everything. I want her end to be long and tortuous.”
We all nod our agreement. It was always meant to end this way. Samantha Davenport is the definition of delusional and dangerous, and we’ve underestimated her one too many times. But no more—her world implodes now.
“Does Baker have anything else planned?” Wyatt snarls.
There are a few beats of silence before Grady finally slurs, “The babies. He plans to take the babies.”
