Page 17 of Burning Truths

Could I find a way out?

And where would you go? You have nothing left, Kenna.

The organ in my chest pinches at the truth in that thought.

“Behind this door is your salvation. Food, clothes, comfort items. All of these things will be at your fingertips as long as you please me.” he finishes. His eyes roam over my face looking for something. My stomach aches at the temptation of what he’s offering.

He’s the only one here. No one else is coming to rescue you. Get in line or die.

“I’m ready.” I state.

He huffs, tipping my chin up with two fingers, his hold pinching me. “Then lead the way.” he steps to the right.

I’m hesitant. It’s a battle to force myself to grab the doorknob and twist it. Slowly pushing the door open I’m instantly overwhelmed by the smell of bleach, the harsh fumes choking me, and I’m suppressing a gag. The stark white walls are blinding, the fluorescent lights making it hard for my eyes to focus on what they’re showcasing. The heat radiating off Hank reaches my back, contrasting with the cool air I feel at my front. My senses are overwhelmed completely.

A long metal table sits against the wall to the far left, an array of silver instruments glistening under the light, but my mind doesn’t connect with what my eyes are seeing because I’m too busy trembling from the site ahead of me. A figure is strapped to an identical table ten feet from the first. Head covered, all I can make out are tattoos.

Hank's hands run up and down my arms, warming the chilled flesh. Ignoring the hairs raised on the back of my neck, I take a step forward. My chest rises faster the closer I get to the body lying on the table. Large metal clamps strap their wrist tightly to the table, matching ones around their ankles, and neck. My fingers instinctively touch the collar around mine before dropping my hand quickly.

“What is this?” I ask, my voice small in such a large space. My words are bouncing from the walls around us.

“This is your gift. The key to everything you want. Please me, crave me, hurt for me, and I’ll worship you.”

His lips brush over my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. One he must take as an opening to lay another on the opposite side.

“This is your pound of flesh.” Hank says.

“Kenna?” the voice rasps.

The sound is so dry, I can’t place it. He must have been here for days, maybe weeks. A black cloth bag covers his face, but his chest is broad and those tattoos are familiar. My heart skips a beat when I spot one that I know all too well.

Dear God, what am I about to do?

Any and everything to survive. Just like they taught you.

Swallowing around the rock in my throat, I move to face Hank while still keeping the man on the table in my line of vision.

Placing my hand on Hank's chest, a move I’ve yet to try, “And what would please you?” I ask. Hoping my words are buttery sweet I look up at him through my lashes.

The skin under the collar burns from memory alone and it’s then that I know I’d do anything to not feel the lighting shooting down my back. The concave of my stomach from starving. The loss of everyone I’ve ever loved. Betrayal and rage course through me. Hank sees the moment I’ve accepted my fate and together we smile a wicked grin. My teeth like fangs in the night, ready to sink into the necks of those who sold me to the devil.

“Rip him apart.” Is the only order he gives me before locking me in the room.

Alone with the man on the table, I make my way to where his head lies. Gently taking off the bag, I look into bright blue eyes with cold resolve. The field behind my eyes is dim of light. Gray spreading further and further, until all color is leached and it’s nearly coated in darkness. With a single look at me, he sees his fate.

Hank just gave me the keys to my freedom.

“Jax.”

And then nothing but screams.

Chapter Ten

KENNA

“You’ll see. He’s going to give back what they stole.”

My head bobs in agreement at my own words. I don’t wait for Jax to respond. Not that he can now that I’ve stitched his lips together.

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