Page 25 of Savage

Tim's laugh was cold and cruel. "Oh, sweetheart. Nothing will ever truly satisfy them. But if you want to keep breathing and keep your niece alive, you'll find a way to make yourself useful. And here's a little secret for you, sweetheart. You're not the only one keeping tabs on The Spartan Watchmen for us."

Savannah's heart plummeted. Her eyes widened in shock, darting around the secluded area as if she could spot the other informants lurking in the shadows.

"Who else?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tim's laugh was hollow. "Now, now. Can't reveal all our cards, can we? Let's just say, my brother's got eyes and ears everywhere. The question is, are you going to prove yourself more valuable than the others? Who is going to bring us the information we need first? The other person is going to have to find another way to pay off their debts."

Savannah's mind raced. How many others were there? Friends she'd made, people she'd begun to trust – any of them could be working for The Rejects. The sense of isolation crashed over her in waves, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. She could not trust anyone. It could be the waitress at The Rusty Crab, a little she'd befriended, or even one of the club members.

"I... I will get you the information you need," she stammered, hating how weak she sounded.

"Prove it," Tim growled, pulling out his phone and tapping aggressively on the screen. "Watch carefully."

“Watch what?” she asked. Tim’s only answer was to shove the screen in front of her face. The video that played made her blood run cold. A middle-aged man, bloodied and bruised, wasstrapped to a chair. His screams pierced through the tiny phone speakers as unseen torturers demonstrated what happened to people who disobeyed them.

"No," Savannah whimpered, trying to look away. But Tim's hand gripped her chin, forcing her to watch.

Her stomach dropped as the camera panned over to show the rest of his ordinary-looking family. A woman, about the same age as the man, with two young children, tied to chairs in a dingy room. Their faces were streaked with tears and blood. A man, his face obscured by a ski mask, loomed over them, shouting in Spanish. Savannah’s Spanish was rusty, but she caught enough to understand. He was asking about money, about betrayal.

When the man swung a baseball bat into the father’s kneecap, the scream that erupted from the video made Savannah flinch. Her stomach churned violently, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out herself as the violence in front of her escalated. The children’s cries blended with their mother’s sobs. Hot tears fell down her own cheeks. She tried unsuccessfully to separate herself from the scene in front of her, to pretend it was all theatrics and not real.

She couldn’t watch anymore, but when she tried to look away, Tim forced her face back. He squeezed her jaw so hard, she briefly wondered what excuse she would give to Savage to explain away the mark. The video playing cut through any other thoughts forming in her head. She tried again to pretend it wasn’t real. What was on the screen couldn't be real. Right? These were actors.

As she watched, she knew the truth. These weren't actors. There were real people. Like her. Who got caught up into the dark web spun by devious spiders. Tricking their prey to move closer and closer until…

“Keep watching,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

“Tim, please," she sobbed, "I can't... I can't watch this… I’m going to be sick." Her pleas fell on deaf ears. He slapped her then, hard, across the face.

Tears blurred her vision as she forced her gaze back to the screen. It was relentless, brutal, and inescapable. Her entire body shook as she watched the torture unfold, each scream and whimper a stark reminder of what awaited her if she failed. By the time the video ended, Savannah was trembling so badly she thought her body might shake apart.

"This is what happens to those who betray us," he hissed. "This is what will happen if you go to the police or tell anyone else about this."

Tears streamed down Savannah's cheeks, leaving trails through her carefully applied makeup. She tried to close her eyes, block it out. But Tim was relentless, holding the phone and her face steady until the gruesome video ended. When he finally pulled it away, Savannah collapsed against the wall, her legs barely able to support her.

“That’s what we do,” he said quietly, but there was a razor-sharp edge to his voice. “That’s how we send messages. We make it crystal clear what will happen if you betray us. And if you don’t get me what I need, that’s exactly what’s going to happen to your sister and her little girl, while you watch. Then, we will torture you but let you live. Let you walk around with the image of them dying, screaming in pain, for the rest of your pathetic life.”

Savannah’s breath hitched, and her vision swam with unshed tears. “You’re lying,” she said, though her voice cracked with the effort of denial.

Tim’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. “Am I? You think they’re gonna show mercy just because they’re innocent? Because they’ve got nothing to do with this?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. “They’ll make you watch, Savannah. Every.Single. Second. Do you think the kids in the video had anything to do with their father's betrayal? Collateral damage.”

Panic clawed at her, making it hard to breathe. “I don’t have any more information,” she said, as she struggled to catch her breath.

“You’ll get it,” Tim shot back, his tone as hard as steel. “I don’t care how. Fuck the entire damn club if you have to. Don’t waste our time, Savannah. The clock’s ticking.”

Then he was gone, and she dropped to her knees, feeling sick to her stomach. She gagged violently and the bagel she’d eaten at the clubhouse resurfaced.

CHAPTER 10

SAVANNAH

That was it? Nothing more? And nothing less.

Savannah: Where is here?

Savage: The address I texted you is my house. I’ve made dinner.

Savannah: I have plans with the girls.

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