Page 27 of The Torturer's Target

Probably because he was right. She was starting to doubt that he was really her target.

When she hesitated for too long, Max simply stepped back away from the dagger. “I did not kill your father,” he said again.

The man was messing with her head. He was messing with her. “I still don’t believe you. I can’t believe you. Prove to me that Maximus Kingston McCarthy ever existed. I don’t care how you do it but prove it. But you will never get me to believe you aren’t the killer I spent twenty years searching for by your word alone. ‘Cause that is never going to happen. Do you hear me!?” she spat, getting into his face, her eyes brimming with anger.

They stood toe-to-toe in a face-off. She noticed that the man was more than a foot taller than she was, and she was a tall woman.

Silence hung in the air again.

Finally, he took a step back. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cellphone—the man seemed to have more than a few of those. Her eyes followed his every movement.

He tapped away for a few seconds. Then he lifted the phone and showed the screen to her.

Tesiera’s heart stopped as she glanced at the screen. For a moment, she felt lightheaded and took a step back.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “This can’t be.”

Two teens were standing together at the screen. They looked like identical twins and they both looked like the teen who had pulled the trigger that killed her father twenty years earlier. But one had kinder, sadder eyes, and the other had cold, cynical eyes.

“This was taken freshman year after a game,” Max said.

“No.” She shook her head again, her eyes pinned to the screen. They stood together and looked the same, but she knew the boy who killed her father instantly. And it wasn’t the man standing in front of her.

“Fuck.”

She tore her gaze from the phone and looking into the eyes of the man standing in front of her. The kinder eyes that had planted doubts in her from the very first night she’d attacked him in his bedroom. “This can’t be…”

Her brain denied the realization over and over again. Because it was easier to deny than to accept.

To accept this would mean that she had the wrong target all along. Worst of all, that would mean that she almost murdered an innocent man in cold blood. Twice.

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CHAPTER 12. SHAKEN.

Someone knocked on the door, and he glanced at Tesiera before quickly turning his attention to the interruption. He remembered instructing Clinton and Bose to prevent any interference.

Harvey said, “Good evening, Mr. Kingston. I believe there is another intruder. One of the wires has been tampered with, and one of the staff sensors has been stolen. Are you all right, sir?”

Max was puzzled. Was it another intruder, or was it still about Tesiera? “Check the perimeter and the CCTV. I’m fine. There have been no disturbances here. I’m sure Bose would alert me if there’s another invader.”

“Alright, sir. I’ll make rounds and send the guards to sweep the boat, just to be sure.”

Carter Walker would be foolish to send one of his assassins here tonight. Max nodded.

Turning back, Max found an empty room. His eyes swept the room, scanning for Tesiera Anderson, but she was nowhere to be found.

He took a deep breath, not surprised. He knew it was only a matter of time before she escaped when he unchained her. But she was so good that it only took brief diversion of his attention for her to escape. He was impressed.

Bose and Clinton straightened as he walked out of the room. “Have you heard from the marketing director? Where are the Chinese investors?” Max asked Clinton.

“Yes, sir. I heard Marshal is keeping them entertained in the VIP lounge. A few business associates came to look for you earlier, but we told them you weren’t to be disturbed.”

“That’s good. Let’s join them before the commissioning speech.” Max led the way.

“But what about the woman, sir? Are we going to leave her tied up there all night?” Bose’s tone was filled with hopeful glee.

“Not exactly. I untied her, and she has escaped,” Max answered nonchalantly.

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