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“That doesn’t concern you,” he replies coldly.
I hold in a deep breath to maintain my composure. Losing my shit won’t help. I have to play it smart and get to know theman who stands a few feet away, studying me like I’m his twisted science experiment.
I’ve never been held captive before. My Killers Club marks never got close to working out my true motives, until it was too late. I prefer to be in control, but that didn’t mean I was going to fall victim to him. I’ll fight and keep on fighting because I’m a survivor. It’s what I do. Facing death makes you come back stronger.
“Do you think I look familiar?” the man asks, cocking his head to the side. “We’ve not been formally introduced, but I know you’ve met my brother. I’m Torean, the better-looking twin.”
Twins? Holy shit. As if one Scottish psychopath wasn’t bad enough. They’re identical, but the closer I look, the more differences I spot. Torean has a rigid posture, and where Callen has a playful glint in his eyes, Torean’s are a malicious pit of nothingness. I hope I never meet their parents because something dark must run in their genes.
“What do you want?” I demand.
I unsteadily get to my feet and press my back against the column to keep me upright. Adrenaline is all that’s keeping me standing.
Torean rubs his chin and looks me over. I keep my head held high. He’s treating me like a zoo animal. His sleazy gaze lands on my tits, and he licks his lips at the sight of my pointed nipples poking through the fabric of my blood-stained t-shirt.
“Why don’t you take a picture?” I retort, refusing to show that I’m affected by his presence. Men like him live off fear. They depend on it more than the oxygen they need to breathe. “Go on. What’re you waiting for? Add it to your wank bank. It’ll last longer.”
Torean’s lips stretch back over his teeth, forming a smile. “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”
“I assume that’s never been reciprocated?” I reply sarcastically.
A thunderous expression takes over his features, giving me no doubt that I’m staring at a brutal killer.
He steps closer. His shoes squeak as he walks, and I resist the urge to make a joke about him farting. He’s inches away now, so close that I can feel the heat emanating from him. My spine digs into the column, while I will the chain around my ankle to miraculously spring free.
“This is my home,” Torean says. “I’m letting you stay here for free. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you?” I splutter in disbelief. He’s out of his fucking mind. “Even if you tied me up in a five-star hotel, I’d never thank you.”
“I knew you would be feisty, but I didn’t expect this.” Torean tuts, shaking his head. “My brother told me who you are and what you do. I’m intrigued as to why the Dukes would want to keep you alive. If I was handed a bomb, I’d defuse it. Or better yet, let it explode.”
Suddenly, he lurches and grabs my chin. I try turning away, but he yanks my face around.
“Go to hell,” I rasp. My mouth is dry, but I’ll be damned if I let him get away with talking to me like that. I hack up a spitball and launch it at his face. The glob of spit lands on his cheek, and I smirk in victory.
“You bitch,” he retaliates, jumping back and raising his hand. I brace myself for impact as he strikes me across the face hard. “You need to be taught a lesson.”
I laugh. My stinging cheek gives me something else to focus on. His expression turns explosive now, making me laugh harder. I shouldn’t taunt my captor, but if he’s already decided to kill me, it’ll change nothing. Maybe that’s why they broughtme here. The Dukes are too cowardly to kill me themselves, so Callen could have asked his brother to do it for them.
Torean’s expensive cologne catches in the back of my throat as he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a knife. He twists the blade, letting it catch the light in a pathetic attempt to intimidate me, and then he holds it to my throat.
“Go on, do it,” I hiss. “I’m not going to beg, so you may as well get it over with.”
His eyes narrow into slits. “Did you think it’d be that easy?”
I try not to flinch as he grabs the hem of my t-shirt, pulling the fabric taut, then slicing through it with his knife. It falls apart, forming a frayed waistcoat to give him a better view. He rests the sharp point on the sensitive spot between my collarbones.
“Scared now?” he asks.
I don’t flinch. “What do you think, tough guy?”
He trails the blade between my tits and keeps going all the way down to the top of my skirt, leaving a scratch behind. I swallow hard, fighting the dark memories that are coming back.
Spencer… his hands holding me down… my cold skin… the way he…
“If you move, I’ll cut your throat and leave you here to die.” Torean’s breath on my neck makes my knees want to buckle, but I don’t. “No one would miss you. After all, you’re already dead.”
I consider kneeing him in the balls, but Torean reads my mind. He grabs my handcuffs and forces my hands above my head, holding them there. I’m too weak to resist. With his other hand, he presses the tip of his knife into the jumping pulse on my neck. One wrong move, and I’ll be showering in my blood.
