Page 71 of Depraved Truths

“You’re not wrong.”

Grabbing a fry from the plate, I head into the bedroom to change out of the dress, and Eli’s pulling on a black tee when I walk in. I march up to him and grab his face, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Now, can you help me out of this gown? Careful, though, I want to keep this one.”

“Of course, love.”

He unzips the back of my dress, his hands grazing my skin, sending tingles up my spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He peppers kisses down the side of my neck before stepping back.

His eyes are filled with desire. “I’ll let you handle the rest, or I’ll bend you over that bed and fuck that tight little cunt,” he says, as he walks out of the room.

My mouth hangs open as I watch him walk away. And here I thought he couldn’t resist me. I guess his restraint is better than mine. What a tease. I huff at myself as I dress in dark jeans and a red tank. Maybe it’s not the best color to blend in, but it would hide blood pretty well.

I return to the living area and fix a plate, deliberately ignoring Eli, who’s sitting on the sofa. Plopping into a chair at the dinette, I slice into my medium-cooked steak—just how I like it. I take a bite and can’t stop the moan that slips from my mouth. Well, I probably could’ve stopped it, but I chose not to. As I take another bite, I glance at Eli. He’s staring at me with raw hunger in his eyes. Smirking, I take another bite. Two can play this game.

Bryce is seemingly oblivious to the tension or simply chooses to ignore it. Gabriel has to stay at the Hunt’s home until the event ends. It’s already eleven, so the party should clear out in the next hour but I’m sure there’ll be an after-party for the younger crowd somewhere nearby.

At midnight, the encrypted burner phone vibrates with the text. Seriously, between Bryce and Gabe, their tech beats anything else. Brains and brawn. Together, they could run one hell of a mercenary team. The thought makes me pause as I glance at my best friend. Nah.

“The address has been sent. He’ll be there at one. We’re ready, Swallow,” Bryce says, excitement in his voice, making me glance sideways at him again.

“Here the fuck we go.”

Before leaving the room, I don a dark hoodie. Having left the Range Rover two hotels away as a countermeasure, we borrow a black Jeep parked on the second-floor lot. The genius who owned it left the keys in the sun visor.

We arrive at the destination fifteen minutes later. The setting is perfect—secluded and still developing. The three-story building proudly displaysNorthAtlanta Youth Center, and trees surround the area, providing cover. We park next to a large work truck, obscuring the jeep from view. Now, we wait.

Shortly before one, headlights appear. A sedan pulls up beside the building. A man steps out, and even in the dark, I can make out his figure. As instructed, he turns off the car but leaves the driver’s door open, lighting up the interior to ensure no one else is in the vehicle.

“I’m here,” Hunt shouts into the dark. “Now what?”

I approach from behind, shoving a needle into his neck, and he collapses unceremoniously to the ground.

Eli steps out of the shadows, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. He’s my backup in case anyone unexpected shows up.

Gabriel is also nearby, keeping watch for any suspicious activity. He’s here for security, but that’s it, as I don’t want to drag him any deeper into this.

We check Hunt for weapons, trackers, or anything else that could be traced. The dumb fuck actually listened to us. He’s clean. We search the car, but there’s nothing—no phone, no devices.

Eli and I haul him to the sectioned-off area that will soon be a gym. For now, it’s just a hole for the footer. We chain him to an old wooden cross buried in the ground, barbed wire wound into thechains securing his arms. His head hangs, still unconscious, despite the wire digging into his skin. He’s been stripped of all clothing.

I pull out a special contraption designed just for William. As I set it up, I glance at Eli. He looks a little green, realizing what’s about to go down. I suppose any man would, given the device’s purpose. They’re fiercely protective of their… packages.

And once everything’s set, I look at the man who created the person I am today. Little did he know he touched the wrong girl. And now I’m no longer a helpless victim. No remorse fills me as I walk over and slap him across the face.

He barely moves. Hmm, maybe I overestimated the dose. I might need to amp things up.

I reach into my bag of tricks, unable to hide the grin spreading across my face as I pull out the yellow gun. I press the trigger, and electricity shoots through his chest. He jolts awake, yelping as the current courses through his body. He looks down at his chest, then at his shackled arms, and finally at the spiked contraption around his shaft. Genuine fear fills his eyes as they dart between Eli and me.

“You,” he gasps. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

“Oh, Willie boy. You had to know this was coming at some point,” I mock, my voice laced with disdain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Don’t you remember me?”

I trail my fingers down his side. He jerks, but he can’t move more than an inch.

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