Page 66 of Shattered

And the skulls…

“Your turn, princess. Rooney’s been dying to use his new torch.”

They approach me from either side, Rocco with a jagged knife and Rooney with a black handheld device resembling a drill. When he presses a button, a blue flame emerges from the end, and my heart explodes into terror, making breathing hard—fear of unbearable pain with no escape.

“Asher? Are you there?”

Rocco’s voice is almost the worst part, how taunting and cold it is. He’s called out for Asher several times and has gotten no response. Asher’s not coming for me.

And for that, I don’t know what to think. Maybe that aerosol shit killed him, and he’s just gone. Maybe he’s decided I’m not worth saving. After all, I’m just another disposable whore.

“Right, I guess we get started. I don’t think Asher’s watching. That’s too bad for you,” Rocco says.

I’m paralyzed with fear as they position me on the table, running their dirty, grubby hands all over my naked body in the process. While I try to squirm away from them, there’s nowhere to go and no winning when they can overpower me so effortlessly. Still, the panicked part of me struggles with everything I’ve got, pulling away from their bruising fingers and attempting to evade them. But it’s all futile. They flip me on my back and secure metal cuffs around my ankles and wrists before fastening them to the four corners of the table. The chain attached to the metal collar around my neck is now draped over my chest with a bit of slack.

No matter how hard I fight, I can hardly move an inch. I can’t get out of this.

“That’s a pretty tiger tattoo there, Lila,” Rocco says, his beady eyes trailing over my chest. He rips the clear bandage off my tiger, making me shudder. “It’s gonna have to come off.”

I can’t help the words as they fall out of my mouth. “Come off!?”

Rocco nods, and I shut my eyes to avoid his piercing gaze. “We took Jared’s off with acid.” He raises his voice, speaking directly to the camera. “What will it be? We can use acid, boiling water, the torch… Maybe we just cut the whole thing out?”

I shake my head frantically, fear consuming me. I don’t want to give these bastards the satisfaction, but I’m way past that. “Please,pleasedon’t do this!” I beg.

“It’s too bad that you don’t get a vote,” Rooney says. He stands beside me as he scrolls through his phone, liking whatever he’s reading. “The viewers want to watch you cry. Some big bids are going in, and we can stack them.”

“Well, come on, let’s hear them,” Rocco says with interest. “She should know what she’s in for. Asher should know too, if only he were watching.”

My heart sinks as fear takes over my body as I listen to Rooney read off the screen.

“Judd seems to want to see you cry. One hundred thousand to drive splinters under each of your fingernails.”

Rocco steps away momentarily, and my eyes shoot open in fear, landing on Rooney staring at me with amusement. When Rocco returns, he’s got a little container in his hands.

Pointed toothpicks.

“Don’t forget to cry, baby. They want to see you cry,” Rocco says.

He grabs my hand, and while I fight to curl my fingers away, he straightens them almost effortlessly. I let out a mangled scream as the first toothpick is jammed deep under my thumbnail, eclipsing any other pain I’ve ever felt in my life as though my whole thumb has been set on fire.

“STOP!” I wail. When I yank my fingers away and curl them in, the end of the toothpick sticking out catches on the table and bends, separating more of my nail from the nail bed and blinding me with agony.

And then he shoves another under my second finger.

There’s no reprieve, no mercy. The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Just when I think it’s over, he shoves the last one under my last free fingernail, he moves to the bottom of the table.

“Might as well do her toes, too.”

Somehow, they hurt more. And even though I’m nowhere near dead, I imagine this is what it feels like. Unwavering pain. My breaths come fast and heavy, trying to keep up with my racing pulse. I don’t realize I’m crying until Rooney swipes a thumb over my cheek, pulling a river of tears.

“You really are pretty when you cry. I think I know why Asher likes you,” Rooney says. “Too bad he doesn’t like you enough to save you.”

I let out a wail, overwhelmed with pain and fear as tears pour from my cheeks like a faucet.

“Oh, poor girl, we’ve hardly started. No need to be like that,” Rocco says.

“I got the payment to bleed her. Care to dothe honors?”

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