Page 116 of Shattered Veil

“Ah!” she yelped in a mixture of surprise and pain.

“Do you see her face, James?”

He squeezed his grip, and Skylar winced.

I exclaimed, “Stop! You’re hurting her—”

“I asked if you saw her face,” Randy repeated. “It’s simple—you can either talk to me, or you’re about to look very similar to Skylar here.”

The options were laid out before me, and they were obvious.

I could lie. Tell him that I had no idea what he was talking about and I had only seen the article that Skylar had referenced.

I could say that it didn’t matter how much he beat me. That he was scum. That I wouldn’t tell him a goddamn word.

Or…I could obey his every command. Admit that I was acquainted with a man named Colton who knew of a trafficking situation, and he had spoken with us in an attempt to obtain more information. That it had outright terrified us all to hear the news. Cassie had alerted Skylar only about Delaney, and it was clear that the women had pieced together other information and that was what had caused the domino effect he had mentioned. Maybe he would appreciate the transparency. Maybe he would let me go.

I would be kidding myself if I didn’t say that the last thought gave me a glimmer of hope…but would he? Would he let me go? The single sparkle faded away as I deduced otherwise—surely with the knowledge of who he was and the insinuation of crimes he’s committed, I wouldn’t be allowed to see the light of day. Not now and not ever…and my stomach sank slowly as I came to the conclusion that there was a large possibility that I would die here.

And if I were to confess all I knew…it was most certain that he would find Colton and end him, too.

The slim chance of survival aside, it felt like a coward’s way out. In fact, even if I were to come out of the other side of this alive, by stooping so low to give him the information he craved, he could go on happily committing atrocities…and it was with that realization that I began to shake my head.

“Why…in the fuck…would I tell you anything?” I incredulously questioned. Randy’s eyebrows rose, and I added, “Even if I did have exactly what you were looking for…” I scoffed, “You’re a fucking monster.”

He seemed to be assessing my sincerity for a moment, and then he nodded.

“Bold, James,” he murmured. “Very bold.”

Randy then turned quickly to stalk away, dragging Skylar by the arm, and she yelped in surprise, meeting my eyes only briefly before they both disappeared from view.

“Where are you taking her?!”

It was clear that Skylar was fighting against him as he moved her, anxious calls of, “No!” and, “Please, no!” falling fainter and fainter on my ears until a thud from afar vibrated the air around me, and her pleas turned into a shrill scream that could have curdled blood.

“Hey!” I yelled, “She’s innocent in this—let her go!”

There was no point to my movements, but I still yanked against the chains. They bit into my wrists harshly, and I frantically looked around the room for…something. Anything. I knew that now wouldn’t be the time to attempt escape, but perhaps I could stow away the idea for later…fabricate a plan to get myself out of the cuffs and onto my feet.

There was nothing, though. Nothing but grey padding, a light above that continued to burn my retinas, and unyielding metal behind me that I knew would inevitably cut into my skin.

The sound of Skylar was abruptly cut off with the closing of a door in the distance and from then, I could only hear footsteps. By the time Randy returned, the air around me was thin, and though it ran through me rapidly, it seemed to do little good because I felt oxygen-starved. He watched me for a moment as he stood in the doorway, a small, wooden stool held in one hand and what looked to be a wash rag and a water bottle held in the other.

“Time to chat.” He sauntered up to me, set the items down with care, and took a seat. Officer Dowler took a large breath in, letting it out as if it thoroughly relaxed him. “Where should we start?”

I had the urge to ask, ‘Haven’t we already?’ but instead, it just came out as:

“Start?”

“We can recap,” he remarked. “Let’s circle back to the beginning here, just to get the record straight. Here’s the deal—my partner was an idiot.”

I felt my expression pinch in confusion, for the word partner could mean several things—work accomplice, lover, and partner in crime all among them.

“Partner?”

“Mhm.” He moved on without clarifying my internal thoughts. “Reckless. Obsessed. Balls-to-the-wall at a moment’s notice. Had this crazy look in his eyes when he got an idea ingrained in him. And I thought…hell, he’d be an asset because I’m careful. I’m a strategic man. I needed a little…fire.” Randy shrugged as he let out a sigh. “But fuck, his fire was too much. Started pin-pointing the wrong targets—went off of his own interests rather than ours as a team—I had to start covering his tracks because he was obvious. He acted like…like this shit was his own personal sex service. I mean, he was dramatic. Obviously dramatic. To the point that he went AWOL.” Randy paused. “Fucking. AWOL. Swear to God, he had to have been high because he was running. Chasing after women to get his goddamn rocks off. The kid was a nut and a half, and that’s my fuckin’ bad, but my point,” he locked eyes with me, “is that he was too close to making himself known—making all of our shit known, whether I was looped in on it or not. And it was clear that who I report to took him out…which was for the best. I didn’t have to get my hands dirty.” Bile rose in my throat, and as my eyes widened, he took the sight of me in with a tilt of his head. “Do you know what he did to him, James? He beat him in the middle of the woods so badly that when his body was found, you could see brain.”

The mention of woods and brain made the image of Peter Milkovich flash in my mind. He laid face down in the grass, only steps away from where Zoey was cradled in Liam’s lap after just having cracked his skull in with a rock.

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