Page 24 of Líadan's Code

Skyler hid a smile as he closed out the chat and left, and I’ve been “hanging tight” ever since.

Blowing out a breath, I attempt to stretch without pulling anything. I’m in my early fifties now, I work out often and eat right, but getting kidnapped was not on my bucket list this year. While I’m not short, O’Brien’s thugs pulled the chains so hard, my toes are the only things remaining on the ground.

Grunting in pain, I hold onto the chains above my head and raise my feet to keep them from cramping up. My face contorts as I bicycle my legs to stretch out the muscles, holding back the curse words I want to say.

Lowering my legs again, I go back to standing on my toes. Fuck, this is uncomfortable.

The sound of the door opening forces me to relax as if I don’t have a care in the world. I’ve worn enough masks in my life to know how to look closed off and unbothered. Two people step inside, both wearing white masks over their faces with horns and a black strip over where their eyes would be.

It’s obvious as they move that one is a female while the other is a male.

Women can be even deadlier than men which I know damn well, and as a cart is wheeled in behind them, I take a deep breath. I know this isn’t a social call as I see knives, electrical prods, tasers, and more on the cart.

I don’t have any idea if this is an interrogation or simply a reminder that I’m their’s to do whatever the fuck they want.

The girl is wearing a pair of cut up jeans, a black hooded-sweatshirt, and black combat boots. I can’t see her hair because it’s hidden away under her mask, but I recognize the curves. I must be a sick fuck to be turned on by this.

I’ve always had sexual proclivities that I’ve hidden well. I like a bit of pain with my carnal activities.

The girl is looking over her choices as the man puts on a pair of black gloves. There are goosebumps all over my body, though it’s only partly because of the cold. I’m wearing a pair of boxer briefs and nothing else, which was a great way to speak to my captor on video chat earlier.

The girl turns toward me, her eyes moving up my body slowly until I can tell she sees me, despite the fact that I can’t see her eyes. I swear her feet stumble for a moment before she slowly turns away.

I don’t know what her issue is, but I doubt I’ve ever met someone who tortures and murders others for a living.

Well, for the mafia, anyway. I know a couple of serial killers, but it’s never affected my physical health before.

“It seems you’ve found yourself as a person of interest, Mr. Jordan Miles,” the man says gruffly.

It’s obvious to me that his voice is being altered, because there’s a mechanical undertone. It’s one of the better voice altering devices, but I’m in the music business and have a well turned ear. I almost roll my eyes when he says my name.

Yes, you know my name, good for you.

“I’m just protecting my niece,” I state idly. We could be fucking chatting around a fire pit for as many fucks as I’m willing to give him right now. “I will continue to do just that for as long as I need to.”

“That’s admirable,” the girl says.

Her voice changer is a creepy, shrill tone that reminds me of a horror movie, and matches the mask perfectly. It forces me to hold back a shiver, because it’s really fucking unsettling.

She lifts a bat from the myriad of items, which almost makes me laugh. Why do so many unhinged people like their bats? I wonder if she’s named it.

God, I’m twisted.

“You don’t seem very worried, Mr. Jordan Miles,” the man says, and I finally release the eye roll.

“That’s a bit of overkill, don’t you think, you psychotic bastard?” I ask, snorting. I don’t think they can kill me, so fuck it. “You all know who I am, congratu-a-fucking-lations. As long as I do the techy shit O’Brien wants me to do, my niece will be safe.”

The girl sings a lyric I know quite well before she walks up to me and swings the bat hard into my torso. Grunting, I struggle to breathe after the force of it robs me of my air. Coughing, I gasp as I stare at the disrespectful little brat in front of me as she steps back.

“I think it’s clear,” I wheeze, “that your strings are being pulled by your boss. Do whatever the fuck you need to do, I have nothing else to say to you.”

And I don’t. I ignore them as the man punches me in the face, the girl hits me with her damn bat, and even when she pulls out the electrical wand. I have a high tolerance for pain, and I know O’Brien needs my fucking fingers. I highly doubt they’ll start cutting off body parts. Even I’m not dramatic enough to imagine that.

“Where did you hear that song?” I ask as the girl continues to sing under her breath. My curiosity is getting the best of me, my body is sore, and I don’t have much to lose right now. They’re going to beat me regardless.

She’s off tune because of the voice changer and it’s even more haunting than when Lenny sings it.

“Just some band I heard on the radio once,” the girl says, shrugging.

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