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He changed directions and headed toward the parking lot. There he found a flurry of movement that his wonky eye-brain connection struggled to translate. People were spilling out of a vehicle that looked like Pierce’s SUV.
“Sawyer!” Ellie’s voice. She rushed toward him, and he had the impression of blond curls and blood-stained hands before she stopped moving and faded into blurriness again. “Call Ash. We need an ambulance.”
“Who’s bleeding?” he demanded.
“Tyler.”
Who the fuck was Tyler?
Still, he grabbed his phone again and told it to call Ash. As he waited for the sheriff to pick up again, he asked, “Where are Cal and Pierce?”
Ellie’s voice came out strained. “In danger.”
chapter
twenty-two
The Re-education Chamber was a rusted shipping container plunked down in the middle of the commune’s gardens. The damn thing looked innocuous, like its only crime would be messing up someone’s Instagram shot of the grapevines. But inside, it was a whole other game.
It was hot and smelled of piss and sweat. There was a single chair bolted to the floor with leather straps on the armrests and legs. A rolling cart held an ominous contraption that looked suspiciously like an old electric shock therapy machine.
Fuck.
“Put the mute one in the chair,” Sincere ordered from behind them.
The men shoved Cal down in the corner and chained him to the wall by his hands while Pierce was forced into the chair. Pierce’s eyes were flat, and his jaw set as the leather straps cinched around his wrists and ankles.
“Comfortable?” Sincere approached Pierce with a serpentine grin. He caressed the old machine like a lover, flicked a switch and humming filled the dank air.
The sound was like fingernails on a chalkboard to Cal’s ears. His eyes met Pierce’s across the room. The former soldier didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything with his hands strapped down—but his gaze burned with silent hatred.
Sincere lifted two gleaming electrodes and walked back to Pierce. He placed them on either side of his captive’s temples.
“You can stop this,” Sincere said casually. “Just tell me where Ellie went.”
Cal gritted his teeth. He’d chew his damn tongue off before he gave them anything.
“No?” Sincere started flipping the switches on the antiquated machine. The damn thing whirred like a dying animal, and Cal could see the fear flicker in Pierce’s eyes for just a split second before they turned back to granite. He shook his head, silently telling Cal not to say anything.
Seeing Pierce there, strapped to that chair, stoic as a stone— it made him wish he could just take his place.
“No,” he snarled finally. “We’re not telling you a fucking thing.”
Sincere chuckled, a dark sound that echoed in the confines of the chamber. “Let’s see how long that resolve lasts.”
With that, he cranked a dial on the machine and Pierce went rigid in the chair, every muscle in his body straining against the leather straps. His eyes met Cal’s, a silent plea for him to stay strong. Funny how he was the one being tortured, but was worried about Cal. He didn’t make a sound, but his dark eyes shot wide in pain, the muscles in his neck taut under the strain.
“I don’t know where Ellie is,” Cal said.
The goddamn machine whirred to life once more. Sweat poured off Pierce like rain down a windshield. Blood trickled from where he’d bitten into his own lip. His veins stood out on
And still he didn’t make a sound.
Sincere cranked the knob further and Pierce’s body convulsed violently, his mouth falling open in a hoarse whisper of a scream that was the first sound Cal had ever heard the man make.
“No! Stop! You’ll kill him. I swear I don’t know where she is or what she’s doing.” Cal fought against his restraints, his heart pounding mercilessly against his chest. He met Pierce’s gaze once more—those eyes were still stoic, but now bloodshot and streaming tears. It was a sight he knew would be seared into his memory forever.
Then Pierce’s gaze shifted to Sincere and in a barely-there rasp of a voice that sounded painful, he whispered, “Fuck. You.”
