Page 40 of Brutal Kingdom

“I. I don’t even know who the fuck you are. I can’t give them to you because I don’t have them.”

“Obviously not here. It’s in your dorm. On a computer, yes? What is the password?”

“If I’m this devious mastermind, why would I leave them on my computer for anyone around here to hack?”

“Then a safe deposit box. We can go in the morning to grab it.” He pauses, the pointy thing pressing against my thigh. “Or do you keep them at your mother’s place?”

I’ve been holding it together until now. A strangled sob escapes my throat. “Don’t go anywhere near her. If you do, I swear I will figure out who you are and end you.”

He laughs, a cold, callous sound. “So brave when I already have you at my mercy. You’re too silly to be a hero, little girl. Showing me how much your mother means to you makes you weak.”

I hear a phone ringing, and a call connects on the other end. Then I hear two voices. One distinct and familiar. It’s my mom. “So you were saying you’re interested in commissioning a painting from my daughter, Jordanna.”

“That’s right. I came across her work at a studio. It was purchased by a friend at one of the school’s art exhibits. I was hoping you could arrange for her to do something. I think an original piece would be lovely for my new office.”

“Mom! Mom!”

“Scream all you want, Jordanna. I have the phone on mute. She can’t hear you.”

“Don’t hurt her. Please, don’t hurt her.”

“That’s entirely up to you. The files.”

Pride and hope be damned. It’s been two weeks and my tech wizard hasn’t made any progress. “I can’t give them to you. I don’t know what I have that’s so dangerous for you. And even if I did, I couldn’t give them to you, because the file was destroyed two weeks ago.”

“You destroyed it?”

“No. Someone else did.”

“As if I’d believe that.”

“It was on a thumb drive I wore around my neck. Two weeks ago the drive was corrupted when I was at Founders Hall in town.”

“Nice try.”

“It’s the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. I don’t even know who the hell you are. I sent it off to someone and they couldn’t retrieve the data.”

Whatever structure I’m lying on shifts and I’m being moved into an upright position. The room grows quiet. Too quiet. My body shakes. I try to calm myself, bracing for whatever comes next. The intercom crackles again.

“For those who made it this far without being caught. Congratulations. For everyone else, hope you have a high tolerance for… pain.” His laugh fades off, but it echoes in my mind.

Something. No,someonetouches my arm. Their fingers tapping across my skin, as they slide back and forth, from elbow to wrist. On the third pass, they travel lower, grazing the side of my breast.

“Don’t touch me.” I hiss, pulling away from their touch. I can’t go far, because I’m still bound to this damn table or whatever. “Look, you’ve had your fun. I’ve answered your questions. Now untie me right now.”

His response is to palm my breast, engulfing it in a painful squeeze. I gasp in disgust, but the sound is more breathy than it should be. The tingle I’m feeling between my thighs shouldn’t be there either. I’m in danger. Low key aroused is not the emotion I should be experiencing.

The other hand drags down the front of my body, pushing my shirt up. This can’t be happening.

“No! Please. You don’t wanna do this.”

I’m breathing heavily, trying not to panic, waiting for another unwelcome touch. The next one unties my hand right hand. I pull the bag off my head, looking around for my capturer. The room is pitch black and I can’t see anything. I unbind my left hand and the ropes at my feet. Holding my hands out, looking for the door.

I find it, pushing it open, flinging myself into the hall. I don’t know where my phone is, and I lost my book bag when they were chasing me in the woods. Right now, I don’t care about any of that, I just need to get to safety.

I’m running blindly through the halls, my hands in front of me, looking for obstacles. I hear a sound behind me, and like an idiot, I turn to look. When I face forward again, I slam into someone. Strong hangs grip me, holding me upright.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

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