Page 75 of The Bait

They shoved Asher onto one of the chairs and fixed a chain to his zip-tied feet, securing him to a bolt in the floor. His hands were still behind his back, and his head was still foggy.

He did feel a little more alert but not back to full clarity.

Then two men brought Yunho in and threw him into the chair next to Asher. They chained him too and pulledhis hood off before they went to join the armed men standing by the wall.

Yunho kept his head down, the bright lights clearly painful after wearing that black hood for god knew how long. Asher could see him tremble.

“I’m here,” Asher said quietly. When Yunho didn’t respond, Asher repeated it in Korean.

Yunho jerked his head up then, and what Asher saw made him almost weep.

His right eye was swollen shut, purple, and the skin torn like a mangled plum. His lip was split; he had dried blood and dirt over his face. His dark shaggy hair was damp and sticking to his forehead.

He was far too pale.

Anger flared in Asher’s core, and that resignation of dying today was quickly replaced with a burning desire to find the men that did that to Yunho and make them pay.

God, how he wanted to make them pay.

But then Istomin came in with a man behind him. No, not a man. A child. Tall enough to qualify, perhaps, but he had a baby face. Asher was certain he hadn’t even begun to shave.

Jesus Christ.

A fucking kid.

Then Asher remembered . . .

Yixing, a fifteen-year-old genius. The same computer whiz who had, apparently, been the one to track down Yunho. Same kid who had found Asher and Harry in Australia.

Asher was going to make him pay too.

Kid or not.

Istomin clapped his hands, making Yunho jump. “Lookat this family reunion,” he said, gesturing between Asher and Yunho. “How sweet.”

Asher ignored him and instead, trained his eyes in on the kid. “How much is he paying you?”

The kid smiled at him. He fucking smiled. “A lot.”

“Until it’s your time in this chair,” Asher said with a laugh.

Istomin took Asher’s chin and yanked his face around. His eyes were a cold blue. Icy and dead. “Do not speak to him.”

Asher considered spitting in his face and briefly wondered if the painful retaliation that he would no doubt bear would be worth the satisfaction.

Instead he smiled at him.

Istomin stood up to his full height and took a step back. “We’re going to play a little game,” he declared. “Where Mr Oh here tells us everything we need to know,” he said, then smiling and gesturing to Yunho like this was a game show on TV. “And for every answer he gets wrong, or even hesitates,” he gestured to Asher, “Mr Garin here loses a body part.”

Awesome.

“No,” Yunho mumbled, crying and trembling. “I’ll tell you everything. Don’t hurt him.”

Istomin chuckled and tapped Yunho’s face. “Yes, you will tell me everything.”

“Don’t tell him anything,” Asher said. They were dead anyway. Istomin was going to kill them regardless, so Asher would sooner give them nothing.

He wanted to know where Harry was, if he was still alive. But then part of him didn’t want to know. For if he was dead, even to hear those words, it would kill Asher.

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