Page 53 of Wicked Revenge

I gather all of my fear and weakness, shoving it down so far inside me, it won’t make another appearance any time soon. I feel myself stand taller, my spine stiffening to prepare myself for what I’m about to face. Like a warm comforting blanket, the hunter’s persona slides over my entire body.

I am The Hunter.

“I’m ready.”

Turning to face the observation window again, I wait for them to unlock the door. Maddox walks up next to me, pulling his phone from his pocket, and soon, the latch on the door clicks. The sound makes Doc sit up straight on the bed, his hands resting on his knees as he waits for the door to open.

“We’ll be right here with you, Angel,” Royal assures me, placing his hand on my shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Maddox pushes the door open, each of them entering before me. I hang back, wanting to hear his voice again before I go in.

“Royal,” he says calmly. His voice triggers me like it did before, but I don’t panic. I allow the onslaught of memories to wash over me, needing confirmation before making a decision about him. “I should have known you three were involved with the Shadows.”

There is no malice in his tone. He’s simply stating facts. But the memories continue to assault me. The blindfolded monthly visits. Kings beatings and torture afterward. Then the monthly checkups when it all stopped for a while. King stopped coming to hurt me. Instead, he would bring me gifts like the desk and art supplies.

It wasn’t long before I figured out the reason why. The day my life changed. I’ve never known such agony and pain. I thought I was going to die at this man's hands. Bile rises in my throat as they keep coming like a movie playing in my head.

I’ve heard enough.

Stepping into the cell behind Alek, I take a deep breath of his calming scent, letting the memories slide out of me when I exhale. I press my hand into his back to steady myself more before moving around him and into the doctors view.

His eyes widen as big as saucers, an audible gulp sounds across the quiet cell. Fear drains the color from his face before he schools his features, sitting up straighter on the edge of the bed.

“Do you know who I am?” My question comes out calm and confident.

He studies me for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he takes me in, scanning my body head-to-toe.

“I’ve never seen you before last night.”

His response sets me on edge. I’m not crazy. I know this is the same man. Quicker than anyone can blink, I have his hair gripped in one hand as his throat connects with the edge of my dagger. The pressure is hard enough to show I’m serious, but not hard enough to break the skin. Yet.

“Try that again, Doc.”

I can feel Maddox behind me, his excitement radiating off him in waves, but I ignore him and wait for the old man to catch up. He doesn’t move a muscle as he gets a closer look at my face. I see the moment he remembers who I am.

“I-I remember y-you.” His panicked eyes close as he stutters out his realization.

“Good.” My tone is short and sharp as I release his hair, lowering my blade from his throat and putting it back in my sheath. He lets out a loud sigh of relief as I take a step back, Maddox moving with me. His relief is short-lived though. “Bring him to the playroom,” I tell them, turning around and walking back out of the cell.

His pleading voice rings out as I continue down the hall, but I don’t stop. I keep moving until I’m back into the playroom. I take the space in entirely now. It really is nothing like I imagined. I was expecting a dungeon-like room that smelled of blood and piss.

The space is so clean it’s almost sterile, making me wonder if they’ve ever actually used this space or if tonight will be the first time blood is spilled on the slanted concrete floor.

When I came in here a few minutes ago, I spotted something in the far left corner of the room. It is perfect for the doctor. I make my way over, just as the guys emerge from the hall.

Doc struggles to stay on his feet as Alek pushes him forward. There is something stuffed in his mouth. Coming to a stop as they spot me, he grips the doctor's shoulder to stop him from moving forward.

“Where do you want him?”

“Maddox, help me with this?” I ask, and he comes to where I stand. We push the table into the middle of the room, directly above the drain in the floor.

“Remove his clothes and put him up here. Strap him down.” The guys immediately obey my commands. Maddox grabs a blade from his table, cutting off his shirt and pants with ease.

They place the doctor on his back in just his tighty-whities as he struggles against them. They restrain his arms in the straps attached to the table first before moving to the leg straps and banding it across both legs on his upper thighs, then each individual ankle. Once he is fully immobilized, they stand back, waiting for me.

“Do you remember strapping me down like this Doc?” I ask, walking around to his head, his cries muffled by his makeshift gag. If he responds, I don’t understand him, but I keep going.

“You weren’t on my list, you know. Because I never saw your face. It was pure luck that you were the one they called last night.” I run my fingertips over the straps at his arms, his eyes wide and struggling to follow me as I move around him.

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