Page 21 of Torment

Mason opened the bars again and stepped inside my cell. I didn’t bother to skitter away. No point.

Instead of kicking me in the chest or dragging me to my feet so he could choke me, he pulled his mask off all the way. “Stand up and look at me,” he commanded. “Look and see what happened to me, you little bitch.”

I stared in silence with an unflinching gaze. All those rumors about him were true. He was still a towering mass of muscle with angular features and striking hazel eyes, but he was scarred. Half of him, that is. The left side of his face and neck was covered with puckered silvery marks stretching down beneath his clothing. The burn scars didn’t mar his attractiveness, though. They simply added a rough, mysterious element to his looks that he didn’t have eight years ago. He was still the most handsome man I’d ever seen.

Despite all the things he’d done to me in this awful room, I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting back to how I used to feel about him during our time together at New Eden, before everything got so horribly messed up. I licked my dry, cracked lips, a subconscious gesture betraying the deep attraction and thrill I felt at the memories.

Mason narrowed his eyes at me, as if he were searching for any sign of revulsion in my expression. I kept my face carefully blank, so he would know I wasn’t horrified in the slightest.

I was willing to bet he thought everyone looked upon his scarred appearance with disgust. That was probably why he so rarely left his house now, out of the insecurities borne from those assumptions. But it couldn’t be further from the truth. Anyone who saw this man had to gaze upon him with nothing but respect for what he was.

A survivor.

“When are you going to kill me?” I asked in a soft murmur, finally dropping my gaze to the floor.

“I don’t know yet. It depends,” he said stiffly.

I sighed and sank to the floor again. “Just kill me now,” I said listlessly.

If it was going to happen, I wanted it to be done sooner rather than later. I couldn’t stand sitting around this cell and waiting for the inevitable. The mental torture from that was surely worse than physical torture or death itself. At least when I was finally dead, everything would be over. I wouldn’t think or feel. I wouldn’t have any pain or regrets or fears.

I simply wouldn’t exist anymore.

Mason glared down at me. “I already told you not to tell me what to do,” he said in a low, angry mutter. “And I’m not going to kill you until I have what I want from you.”

I nodded slowly. He wanted a sincere apology, at the very least. “I really am sorry. I know I already said that, but it’s the truth,” I said in a halting voice. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything you could say to make up for what you did,” he said, eyes smoldering with anger. “But I’m not looking for an apology. I think we’re beyond that at this point.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“Your father and all the other New Eden men.”

“What?”

He narrowed his eyes. “They’re still alive. Still out there somewhere,” he said. “And you, Jolie… you’re going to lead me to them.”

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