Page 104 of Entombed In Sin

This shell of a mancaughtme. A feat even the Chicago police department couldn’t manage. The thought of that is both alarming and infuriating. How did this happen? How did I gethere? The questions get lost as a wiggling worm of panic wraiths around inside me.

“I could kill you right now and be done with you,” Sagan says, his voice just as empty as his expression. Despite the cool chill, the air is thick with fiery malevolence.

I swallow hard as my panic begins to grow. My instincts scream at me to get up and fight. If my body didn’t hurt so bad from the collision, I’d do just that. But even rolling onto my back had been a chore. Trying to get to my feet feels impossible. The reality of the situation hits me just as hard as the car had. I’m a broken old man at the mercy of two killers who have no souls.

A car door opens and closes, and the sound of light footsteps drawing near captures my attention. A moment later, the second Hunt twin appears. Thatcher stands on the opposite side of my body. His expression is equally as empty as his brother’s.

“It was stupid of you to leave the keys in the ignition,” Thatcher says, his voice calm and subdued. “This wasn’t the time to slip up, old man.”

I gape up at the two of them in surprise. They hit me with my own goddamn car! I should’ve hopped in it and driven off, but… apparently, I wasn’t thinking clearly.

“As I followed your bloody trail, I thought of all the ways this could go down,” Sagan muses out loud after a beat of silence. He looks up at his brother. “But then I had an idea that I think we could all rally behind.”

Thatcher meets Sagan’s gaze. There’s a wordless communication that passes between them. It’s quick and when they’re done, a smile stretches across Thatcher’s face. His eyes drop to my face.

“The decision has been made. Ready to go for your last ride, Ronny?”

“It’s…Angel Eyesto you,” I growl through clenched teeth.

“Right, the dead serial killer,” Thatcher nods placatingly. “We’ll make sure you live up tothatsoon enough. But first, we’re going to have some fun with you.”

Together, the twins crouch down and lift me up.

“Get… off… of me.” Talking is hard. I’m pretty sure my jaw is fractured and judging by the well of blood gathering in my mouth, I think I’ve bitten half my tongue off.

Neither twin says anything. They simply drag me over to the car,mycar, and throw me into the back. They don’t know that there’s duct tape or rope beneath the floor cover, but they don’t need that to subdue me.

All they have to do is punch me just right.

And when they do, all lights go out.

35

BEATRIX

Ahot breath hits my face.

I can hear Angel Eyes’ soft grunts, and Shannon’s whispers of encouragement as they both hover over me while I lay strapped down to the exam table. No matter how hard I fight, I can’t get loose. I can hear Knox’s faint shouts from across the room, trying to get their attention but failing. Shannon’s words are spoken in whispers, so soft I can’t quite make them out, but I can hear how twisted with hope and excitement they are—for a future I don’t want to be a part of.

“No…” I whimper. “No, no, please…”

I’m ignored. It’s like, for them, I’m not even here. They don’t look at me, just each other. Even when Angel Eyes’ rough hands take my hips in a biting grip—his weight bearing down on me as he leans forward—he doesn’t look at me.

A light flares in Shannon’s eyes and something presses between my legs. A scream wells up as pain?—

“Beatrix!”

My eyelids fly open as I choke on a gasp. Balled in my fists are starchy, white, unfamiliar sheets. As the room comes into focus, I notice the sterile white walls. My heart lurches at the sight of them, but quickly I realize they’re not tiled. A small, relieved sighslips past my lips as I piece blurry memories together to make one clear image. I’m in a hospital. That annoying, rapid beeping sound beside my head is the heart rate monitor. It’s attached to my finger, telling the world I’m on the verge of a panic attack. And the pain in my abdomen? Those are from the stitches holding together my flesh.

Fingers wrap around my forearm, and I flinch. Even before my body starts to relax, I know whose hand is on me and that my reaction was unnecessary. Turning my head, I find a striking man with pale skin, black hair that hangs over his eyes, and a mouth pressed into a tight line towering over me. His one green eye and one brown watch me closely, reading me more thoroughly than any monitor could.

“Sagan,” I breathe his name in a sigh of relief.

A deep, smoldering burn in his gaze is the only indication he’s not made from stone

“You dreamed about them again,” he says, not asking, in his low deep voice.

My cheeks heat with shame and my eyes drop away from his face. Since I arrived four days ago, every time I’ve closed my eyes, I've dreamed of Ronald and Shannon Reed. During my waking hours, I don’t think of my time in that basement. I don’t have to. Thanks to myhusband, the nurses, doctors, police—they all think I know nothing, so they don’t press me about it. Somehow, Knox managed to convince everyone that he had no idea who our captors were, nor did he know where we had been. Apparently, the two of us were blindfolded for the duration of our kidnapping. And when he’d gotten us out of there, he’d been way too discombobulated to take in our surroundings.

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