Page 155 of I Will Break You

SEVENTY-SIX

AMETHYST

Every ounce of moisture leaves my throat as I stare down at my attacker. He’s stocky, built like a bulldog with equal amounts of muscle and fat. There’s a bald patch in his dark brown hair, which makes him look far less imposing than he did last night.

Or was it the night before?

Time is moving so quickly. It seems almost a week ago since those men broke into my house. Now, my entire life has changed.

He’s on his hands and knees with a ring gag around his mouth and is naked save for some sort of harness around his hips. It’s fashioned from chains linked together by padlocks, and attached to the bridle around his companion’s head.

Apart from that, it’s hard to tell what else is keeping the second man’s face attached to his ass.

Xero leans into me and growls, “What are you waiting for?”

I swallow hard, the membranes of my throat sticking together. “What do you want me to do?”

“Torture him,” he snarls. “Ask questions.”

My gaze locks with the man’s pleading eyes. They’re a deeper shade of blue than Xero’s and so commonplace they may as well not exist. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to ignore his humanity. Or the horror of this entire situation.

If Xero hadn’t emerged from the cupboard under the stairs,this man would have raped me over the kitchen table and watched his companions take their turns, before dragging me out for something even more nefarious.

“Why me?” I ask.

The man grunts.

Xero shoves me in the back and hisses, “Start with a threat.”

“Like what?” I whisper back.

“Tell that bastard what you’ll do if he doesn’t talk.”

My stomach heaves. “But I don’t want to torture anyone.”

The man crawls toward me on trembling limbs, dragging his semi-conscious friends. Tears glisten in his eyes, making my stomach churn. He grunts something unintelligible behind his gag and I reach for the buckle, but Xero snatches my wrist.

“What are you doing?” he hisses.

“I want to hear what he has to say.”

“You do not have my permission to touch another man unless it’s to carve out his flesh,” he snarls and unfastens the man’s gag.

The bulldog groans with relief as the object falls to the floor. He gazes up at me and raises his bound hands.

“Help me,” he rasps.

“After you tried to help yourself to my body?” I snap, already bristling at his audacity.

Xero clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Rule number one of interrogation. Show no compassion toward the subject or they’ll waste time begging for mercy.”

I shrug him off. “You had the whole morning to tell me that.”

“That’s Xero Greaves,” the man says, his voice rising with panic. “He did this to us, and he’ll do this to you.”

My pulse quickens. The worst part of that statement is it’s true. Xero is more twisted than he appeared to be in his letters, but he hasn’t permanently harmed me… yet.

The fingers digging into my shoulder tighten, and his lips graze my ear, sending unsettlingly pleasant tingles across my skin. “He’s taking advantage of your weaknesses,” Xero murmurs. “Show him the consequences of trying to create discord among his captors.”

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