In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)

Did they think simply restraining her would prevent her from unleashing hell on them all?

Some of what she was thinking must have been reflected in her ever-expressive eyes and face because without speaking a single word, one of the goons simply turned, pointing a remote at a monitor mounted on the wall.

It flickered once and then came immediately into focus. Ari’s breath caught in her throat and stuck there. Her chest constricted and burned, robbed of air as she simply stopped breathing.

Her parents were in what looked to be a jail cell. Like common criminals, or worse, hostages subjected to deplorable conditions. Her father was seated on a flimsy-looking cot with her mother curled into his arms as he tried to comfort her. Judging by the look of distress—and defeat—on her mother’s face, even her father couldn’t manage something he’d never failed to do before. Reassure his wife that everything would be all right.

Bile rose in her throat and hatred burned a hole in her stomach. She, who had never truly hated anyone. She, who balked at the mere idea of inflicting violence on or hurting anyone. In this moment, she knew she was absolutely capable of, not only hurting, but killing these bastards for what they’d put her parents through. And she’d suffer no remorse whatsoever.

She embraced her powers, finally realizing she did serve a higher purpose, but it sure as hell wasn’t what these bastards imagined. If they knew that she was imagining in exacting detail their deaths, they’d likely flee like the complete cowards they were.

Around her objects began trembling, shaking, as if in the throes of an earthquake. Frames fell from the walls. Glass vials flew from their resting spots to shatter against the far wall. And she stared at the worm in the lab coat who’d calmly announced he wanted to run tests on her. Like she was some kind of an animal. Her parents were already—had been for days—being treated with less regard than animals. Caged in filthy quarters. Only each other to lean on while worry for their daughter tortured them every bit as much as their disappearance and not knowing their fate tortured Ari every single hour since their abduction.

Goon B’s lips curled into a sneer, and he spoke for the first time, seemingly undaunted by her show of strength. Not that it had been an impressive feat by any stretch. She was still weak from the powerful sedative they’d administered. She didn’t even know how much time had elapsed since she’d been taken from the safe room, where she prayed to God Ramie was still safe and sound.

“Cease your tantrum,” he bit out.

“Or else?” she taunted, her eyes narrowing on the focus of her ire.

Immediately his face turned red, and he grasped his neck with both hands as if fighting off an unseen attacker. He pried uselessly at the invisible hand wrapped around his neck, slowing squeezing the life right out of him. Ari wanted to kill him. She was pissed enough to take every single one of these assholes out and damn the consequences.

“Enough!” Goon A barked, yanking her attention momentarily from Goon B.

Goon B coughed and sputtered, holding his neck as he gasped for breath.

“You’re going to pay for that, you little bitch,” he snapped, his face red either from the pressure she’d exerted or sheer fury. She didn’t care one way or another. Never had she felt such a pervading desire for vengeance. Violence. She wanted to hurt these people, whereas a month ago, the mere thought of her unleashing violence on another human being was abhorrent, against her very nature. Now? She was anticipating with every breath just how she would exact her revenge on these people for upending her life, for threatening her parents—adopted or not—and for bringing their fight to Beau and his family’s doorstep.

God help them all if Beau was dead. God may have mercy, but Ari would have none.

“Maybe you should have a look at dear mommy and daddy again,” Goon A said in a mocking tone that grated on her nerves enough to make her want to squeeze a different part of the anatomy than she’d attacked on Goon B. Walking around ball-less and singing soprano would certainly take his ego down a notch or three.

But when she tracked back to the monitor, unable to resist the urge to see her parents after hearing the underlying threat in Goon A’s voice, she froze.