Page 56 of Scar Tissue

Harrison watches my reaction carefully. “Here’s the problem with your story, Thea,” he says softly. “I don’t like loose ends.” He gestures toward the guard. “Let’s see how long you can hold onto it.”

Cold dread slides through my veins, but underneath it, is a single thought I cling to like a lifeline. Hold. Just hold. Because Fletcher isout there somewhere in the dark, figuring out how to get back inside. And Harrison thinks the threat is inside his own operation now. Even if he doesn’t believe it one hundred percent, I’ve planted a sliver of doubt there which is all we need. Good.

Let him chase ghosts.

Because every second he spends looking in the wrong direction is another second closer to us getting out of here alive.

The buzzingin my ears comes first. Then the pain. It blooms slowly, like fire spreading under my skin, sharp and relentless until breathing itself feels like dragging broken glass through my lungs. My wrists burn where the ropes have carved angry grooves into my skin, and my arms tremble every time I try to move them. I don’t remember when I started crying. Only that at some point the tears stopped.

The room smells like metal and sweat, and something sterile that makes my stomach twist. The lights above me blur into pale halos and for a second, I wonder if I’ve passed out again. The table feels wet beneath me. Sweat? I don’t dare to look because I don’t know what I’ll do if I see the reality of what they’ve done to me. I know there’s blood but there’s also an ache between my thighs that has me in complete denial and I can’t begin to register how Dylan managed to survive something like this. I can’t register that I’m now going through something similar.

Footsteps move somewhere near the table. Voices. But they sound distant.

“...still nothing?”

“Not yet.”

A chair scrapes across the floor. The world tiltsviolently as I squeeze my eyes shut again before I can throw up. Harrison sighs softly nearby.

“I’m disappointed,” he says.

My throat is too dry to answer, even if I wanted to. I don’t know how much time has gone by. A hand grabs my chin, forcing my head to turn. “Give her a few minutes,” he says to the guards. “Pain loses its effectiveness when the subject stops registering it.”

A pause.

“And check on our other guest.”

Nathan. My chest tightens. Heavy footsteps leave the room and not a moment later I register the sounds of pain and grunting. I lie there, barely breathing, trying to keep the darkness at the edges of my vision from swallowing me whole.

Hold.

Just hold.

Chapter

Thirty-One

FLETCHER

From the moment I exited the building, I knew I had eyes on me. The problem for them was that I wasn’t planning on leading them to where they were hoping I would. As if I’d leave my best friend and my girl’s best friend to suffer in a way I know only monsters like Harrison Clark can inflict. And after everything Nathan risked for me when we rescued Dylan, I’d be damned if I abandoned him now. Instead of going back to the van where Dyer was, I decided to circle the block, shooting a quick text to give him an update on the situation. I thought about texting Dylan, but if she knew what was happening she’d come down here, and there was no way in hell I was letting her get close to something like this again…as intriguing as the thought of tying her up and leaving her at my mercy was.

I’m crouched behind the rusted utility box across the road, binoculars pressed to my eyes. The warehouse glows faintly under the sodium streetlights. It’s been several hours now, several hours too long. But no matter what plan I come up with, there’s no doubt it’s going to end in bloodshed. I’m not stupid enough to think they’ve reduced their security alert, and I know they’re waiting for me to reappear.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. The original plan had died the moment Nathan kicked in that back door. Now it was improvisation. Inside that building were at least twenty armed men, a trafficking ring worth millions, and the worst kind of psychopath running the show. And two people I wasn’t leaving behind. I lower the binoculars and glance at the small tablet in my lap. The feed from Thea’s camera had been cut a while ago, but I still have something. The building schematics. Old ones, incomplete, but enough given the time crunch I had to get them in as soon as I was able to make a phone call. “Alright, it’s now or never.” Because if I don’t move now, Nathan and Thea won’t make it out alive.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

NATHAN

Ihear the door long before I see Harrison. Granted, my eye is swollen shut so that makes my vision difficult enough. Thea’s cries faded long ago and I’d vomited hearing what they were doing to her. I should’ve known better than to believe someone like Harrison that he wouldn’t touch her, even if we did provide him vague pieces of information. I had no idea what she did or didn’t say to him, I could only hope that our stories aligned. Unfortunately for me, Harrison wasn’t the most forthcoming about what that information was or was not. An easy tactic for him, to see if we were telling the truth. It gives him the power he craves.

“Well, I must give credit where credit is due.” His voice comes from behind me.

“What did you do to her?” I don’t bother to let him finish his thought.

“Oh, so you were conscious long enough to hear the melodic music she was making.”