Page 70 of The Bait

Asher’s blood ran cold, his bones felt like ice. “You said you wanted me, so here I am. You got what you wanted. Leave him out of it.”

He shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. Asher, you should know better than to show your weakness. And I didn’t bring him into it. You did, by bringing him here.”

This was why Harry should have listened. He should have stayed away.

“And he went and killed three of my men upstairs,” Radovic added. “And the three men we sent to Australia. So tell me, Asher, what do you think is a fair trade?”

“Me,” Asher said quickly. “Take me, leave him alone.”

“Asher, no,” Harry said quickly.

“That’s so sweet,” Radovic said in a singsong voice. “But I already have you,” he then said loudly. “Here, in my bunker, after all these years. Just like old times, huh?”

Harry growled at that, and it made Radovic laugh. Like this was his favourite sport.

Asher felt sick. He needed to regain some control and change the focus of conversation. “Where’s Yunho? Who gave you the order to keep me alive? Was it Istomin? Is that who you work for?”

Radovic’s eyes drew to his, wide and wild. He pointed the knife at Asher. “You don’t ask the questions around here. I asked you what was a fair trade and your offer fell short.”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Asher tried.

Radovic smiled, but then he sighed, long and loud. “I don’t think you’re quite truly motivated yet. I know your breaking point has a high threshold because I helped shape you. Isn’t that right, little stranac?”

Bile rose in Asher’s throat.

The things Radovic had done to him. He was just a kid himself, a teenager when Asher was just a boy.

The things he’d done to him down here and in Kosovo, and Turkey.

“I said I’ll tell you anything?—”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Radovic yelled, pointing his knife at Asher’s face. “You, I can’t touch. As much as it fucking pains me. But I get the feeling it’d hurt you a whole lot more, Asher, if I hurt your boyfriend instead.”

Then Radovic swung his knife and lodged it in Harry’s side. “Oops, I slipped,” he said.

Harry screamed through clenched teeth, and Asher reached for him just before he was grabbed, his hands held behind his back, and a black hood was put over his head.

The last thing Asher saw was Harry slumping to his knees.

FOURTEEN

Asher was hauled awaywith his arms twisted behind his back. He tried to kick and scream for Harry, but it was no use. He could see nothing, only darkness, but he could hear the sound of men and Harry’s muffled yelling.

Then Asher had restraints around his wrists, his hands fastened behind his back, the hood still over his head, and he was thrown into a room, the door slamming closed behind him.

He scrambled to his feet and tried to go in the direction he was thrown from. But he had no hands, no eyes. He hit the wall and almost fell backward, but he still screamed for Harry.

Please stop hurting him.

“It’s me you want,” Asher screamed. “Not him. Take me! Please,” he said with a sob. “Please.”

He slid down the wall and cried. Helpless.

Responsible.

This was what he didn’t want to happen. This was why he’d wanted Harry to leave him. But Harry, so fucking stubborn, had said they’d be together until the end.

But now they weren’t together. And they were doing god only knew what to him...

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