Page 109 of Exposed

“Nothing.” The word might as well be venom on Dex’s lips. “I take nothing at face value. I made a mistake, but we’re about to rectify that.”

Fuck.

Dex stares at me and never looks away when he gives his next order, and he does it with a chin lift. “Pat him down.”

There are four of them.

One of me.

I hold out a hand and try one last time to defuse the situation. “Whoa?—"

But Rand has been given permission. He looks like a rabid animal who’s been starved for days.

I’m the raw meat that was just dangled in front of him.

The look in his eyes is vengeance and glee—a combo I do not fucking like.

The empty duffle falls from my hand to the floor.

I brace.

Three men come at me at once.

I get one swing off. I barely clip Rand because I’m thrown off balance when a sack is thrown over my head.

It gets worse when it’s cinched at my neck.

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

“Tie him up,” Dex growls.

It doesn’t matter how hard I kick and thrash, I’m thrown on the floor and hear the sound of duct tape screeching from a roll.

I don’t make it easy on them. I kick and punch and do everything I can from allowing them to bind my arms and legs.

That’s when it happens.

A shoe connects with my ribs.

“Oomph.”

Dammit.

Then another on the opposite side.

Another.

And a-fucking-nother.

Another kick, and this one rolls me to my stomach. My sport coat is ripped down my arms before my wrists are bound at my back.

And then the same to my ankles. I feel the binds work all the way up my shins.

“A cell. That’s it boss,” Rand reports.

“Get him in a chair,” Dex commands.

“What in the fuck are you looking for?” I grit as it takes all three men to lift my dead weight.

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