Dr. Vale let out a low groan, the noise stiffening my spine, slamming me back into reality.
This wasn’t over.
Dr. Vale knew something.
I pulled away from Scáth. “He said ‘them.’”
“What?” Scáth asked, pulling out of me and tucking himself back into his pants. “Hold still.”
He grabbed several tissues from the box on the desk and tenderly cleaned me up.
“Dr. Vale.” I stared past Scáth’s shoulder at my therapist, his swollen eyes fluttering as he struggled to open them. “He said he was going to hand me over tothem. We need to find out what he meant by that.”
Scáth scowled at Dr. Vale who moaned, his limbs jerking as he lay in a pool of his own blood. “He deserves todiepainfully.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Please, don’t kill him. We need information from him.”
Scáth let out a long breath in what sounded like a growland cracked his knuckles. “Then I’ll get information from him.”
He turned to me and, with a gentle hand, helped me down from the desk. “You should go.”
“What?” I brushed down my skirt. “Hell no. I’m staying.”
Scáth’s jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth. “This isn’t the place for you, Ava. You shouldn’t see what’s about to happen.”
“I’mnotleaving.”
It was clear I’d upset him by disobeying. Annoyance contorted his handsome features. Snarling, he reached for my wrist, but I pulled it away from him.
“You’ll kill him if I leave,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
Scáth boxed me in against the desk. “I won’t kill him.”
“You don’t have the self-controlnotto kill him.” My jaw tightened, and I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down, even though every instinct told me to submit. “You need me here.”
His jaw clenched, the muscles tensing under his skin, and I could practically feel the frustration radiating off him in waves. “Ava, youdon’tneed to see my methods of… extracting information.”
I knew exactly what those methods of information extraction were.
“No torture,” I said.
His nostrils flared and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line, his annoyance barely contained.
“It can be over and done in five minutes,” he argued.
“Notorture.”
“I’m quite good at what I do.”
My lips curled into a smirk, a silent challenge. “Notorture.”
He sighed loudly, shaking his head just enough to let me know I was testing his limits.
“You want answers, don’t you?” Scáth said.
I nodded. “But I don’t want to become like them.”
“You don’t have to,” he said, smiling darkly at me. “BecauseIalready am.”