Page 50 of Brutal Legacy

Knowing that arguing with him was like debating with a wall, I sighed and went to sit on the table.

He took off his jacket, revealing a black T-shirt beneath and tattoo sleeves. He rummaged around in a cabinet and then reached into his pocket for something.

“Are you hurt? I’m fine,” I pointed out.

“So, I see… for now,” he said curtly.

That was ominous, to say the least.

Then he added to the menacing feeling by turning around and snapping on latex gloves. I stared as he smoothed them over his thick wrists. There was something about seeing his tattooed arms straining his T-shirt, the blood flecked across his face, and those gloves…

He reached for a silver tray, and all other thoughts left my head when I spied the hypodermic syringe on the tray.

“What the hell is that for?” I panicked, trying to stand up.

He tutted, circling behind me.

One hand snaked around my neck from behind, and then suddenly, a sharp pain pierced my neck.That fucker.The tray had been a distraction. He had been up to something else the whole time.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” he said calmly, injecting God knew what under my skin, while holding my neck hard enough to make breathing a little challenging.

“What are you putting inside me?”

“Nothing you’ll notice.”

“What the hell is it?”

The needle withdrew, and I flinched when it left my skin. I twisted around to glare at him.

“Tell me! Did you poison me?”

His lips twitched. The action was alarmingly close to a smile. It was disarming. I hadn’t seen him display much emotion at all until this point. Well, except for the moment when he’d shot the loan shark in the head, and when I’d opened the door to the police. He’d been more human in those moments than all the others combined.

“Funny that you think others are the poison and not yourself,” he said.

What the hell did that mean?

“No poison… Nothing too nefarious. You know those little trackers they put in naughty pets that keep running off?” He moved around my front, taking off the gloves and throwing them toward the trash can with perfect aim.

“You microchipped me like a cat?” I asked, the words sounding hollow.

“Seeing as I don’t imagine anyone would take you to a vet’s office to have the chip scanned, not quite. I chipped you with something far superior. Don’t be thrown by the location. It’s the only place we passed with sterile equipment.”

“So… it’s a chip?”

He nodded. “It’s a chip, but nothing that exists on the market. This one is special. A GPS that tracks you in real time. The tech isn’t used outside the Special Forces at the moment.”

“So, how did you get it?”

He shrugged. “Everything has a price.”

I shook my head, staring him down. “Not everything. Not people.” I didn’t know why it felt important to say that right now, but it did. This was a man who followed orders for a paycheck, no matter how dark and vile they were, like kidnapping an innocent woman.

“The fact that you think that confirms how naive you are,” he said darkly and jerked his jacket on. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me where we’re going?”

He started toward the door. To my surprise, he stopped and waited for me and actually answered the question.

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