Page 72 of Ruthless Intent

One arm clamps over my legs, locking them into place. But he can’t reach my hands, so I make fists and punch at his back, his spine. I brace one hand against his shoulder and try to lift myself.

He makes an abrupt move that sends me up in the air, and then down, driving my abdomen into his shoulder. Every bit of air escapes my lungs and leaves me gasping and spluttering. Tears fill my eyes, and I claw at his back, his neck, anything I can reach.

In my panic, I don’t pay any attention to where he’s taking me, and it’s only when the world spins again and he sets me on my feet, that I see where we are.

“No!” I whirl, just as the door closes. “No! Zain, no!” My hands hit the wood, as the lock clicks.

“Welcome to your cell for the evening. Sleep well. I’ll see you at six a.m. sharp.”

I scream his name, my hands pounding against the door.

I don’t want to turn around. I don’t want to see where I am.

I hit the door until my hands hurt. I scream his name until my throat burns.

And when I can’t do it anymore, I drop to my knees, my back to the room.

This is a nightmare.

It’s just a nightmare.

I’ll wake up.

I always wake up.

Just breathe.

It’s not real.

It’s a nightmare.

But it’s not. I know it’s not.

He’s really brought me here.

I cover my face with my hands.

He’ll come back. He won’t really leave me locked in here. He won’t. He can’t.

But even as I tell myself that, I know he will.

He’s a monster. A cold, heartless monster who wants payback for the years he’s lost.

He’s probably standing outside the door laughing while he listens to me.

I scrub my hands over my cheeks, and lift my head.

I drag myself back to my feet, then slowly turn to face the room.

Memories hit me from all sides, and I sway.

The eerie silence of the house as I ran through it, looking for my brother.

The way my voice echoed as I called his name.

The odd coppery smell in the air when I pushed open his bedroom door.

The blood … oh god … the blood.

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