Page 48 of Misunderstood Hacker

“No. Believe what you want, but he wasn’t cheating on me.” I didn’t know how he was still getting inside information unless they somehow had my phone bugged or someone at the club was still working with these people.

I still wasn’t sure how much time had passed.All I knew was that Brock was coming. I had to figure out a way to give them time and, preferably, not get tortured.

Maybe it was time to ask some questions of my own.This man couldn’t stop talking. I bet he liked to talk about himself.Maybe I could get some intel for when I got out of here.

“How have you been hiding all these years?”

“I made everyone else the face of the organization. Nobody but my top trusted knew who I was. Your boyfriend thinks he stopped the man in charge of the sex trafficking.All he got was one of the men that worked for me.Nobody will ever stop me. It’s your fault I’ve had to hide for years.”

My lips curled up. “It’s not my fault you hid for years and made your brother pay for what you’d done. Your brother was the muscle back in the day, and you ran the organization.It was more your fault than mine that he was imprisoned for years.”

“You have more fight in you this time.Last time you were no fun to play with.I think I might help my brother this time. I will enjoy hearing you scream.”

I wanted to break through the bars of my cell and kill the man.The rage that was burning inside me was like nothing I had ever experienced.

I rested my head against the cement wall.“When is all this torture going to start?”

The urge to mentally prepare for what would happen to me was strong.I didn’t know if I could endure what I went through last time.A picture of Brock flashed through my mind, and I knew I would endure hours of torture to see his smiling face again.

The white door on the other side of the room opened.I watched as two men walked in, neither of whom I recognized. But I knew the man walking behind him. I had spent hours having nightmares about him. He was carrying a four-foot bullwhip. It looked like the one he had used on me years ago. I had watched men use the same whip in the club. They would wield it with so much precision that the women would orgasm in minutes. I had a feeling I would be experiencing a totally different kind of pain. That whip would tear up my skin. I hoped Brock would still love me with all the new scars I was about to receive.

“Looks like that answers your question. Let me know when you’re done.” He looked over his shoulder at me before he left. “I want to give her a try this time.”

I would need all the strength I had to make it through this. I knew he would use the whip on me for an hour before stopping. If I fought him, I knew it would drain some of my strength.

When that first lick of the whip cut my skin, I closed my eyes and dreamed of Brock.

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