Playing Dirty

“Yes, well, good help can be so hard to find.”


I was sitting on a chair, my wrists tied behind my back, inside what I assumed was the warehouse. Glancing around, heart in my throat, I spotted Parker and Ryker. They were maybe twenty feet away and now I could see they were tied to a set of bedsprings suspended above them. No blood marred their wrists or forearms and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yes, you made it just in the nick of time,” Viktor said. “And I had hoped to at least get a pinky as my trophy. Ah well. Perhaps later.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, you bastard,” I ground out.

Viktor laughed. “You are entertaining, Sage, I will give them that. But your loyalty is quite lacking.”

I pressed my lips together and didn’t reply.

He began to pace slowly, back and forth as he talked. “So please tell me, how did this come to be? Last I saw you and Parker, you were quite the hot item. I believe my driver reported a steamy scene in the backseat of the car. And you two did share a room together.”

I half-listened to him as I took stock of the huge room. The ceiling was high, at least twenty feet, and there was a glimmering light from the hallway to my right. I thought maybe that was an exit. Unfortunately, three guys stood between me and the exit, not to mention getting Parker and Ryker free and out of here was probably beyond my capability.

“And yet,” he continued, “you’re dating the detective.” He shook his head sadly. “I can’t help but think you’re not being true to yourself, Sage. I think the detective is merely little fling on the side, that you know you belong with Parker. Or am I wrong? Does the lawman bring out a side of you your boss cannot? Do tell me.”

“This isn’t a fucking soap opera,” I spat. “You’re insane.”

He backhanded me with enough force to knock me from the chair. I lay on the floor, gasping and blinking the blackness from my vision. Blood ran freely from my mouth, the inside of my lip cut from my teeth.

“Viktor, what the fuck are you doing?” I heard Parker call out. “You should be getting out of town while you still can. You don’t think the CIA is going to track me down? You stick around here, you’re going to miss your chance to get out of the country.”

“The CIA doesn’t even know I’m alive,” Viktor said. “I’m not worried about them. What I do want, what I crave, is a bit of revenge.”

“They’ll kill you if you go back, is that it?” Parker asked. “Given your history, I’m sure the CIA would offer you clemency and protection if you’d tell them what you knew.”

Viktor’s laugh was bitter. “As if anyone can protect me from them. I’m living on borrowed time as it is. I might as well make the most of it. And torturing those who caused my downfall is the best revenge I could possibly have.”

He grabbed my braid and hauled me upright. The pain was excruciating and I scrambled to ease the pressure, getting to my feet with my hands still tied.

“Let’s play that game. The one Americans are so fond of,” Viktor said. “What is it called? Oh yes. Truth or Dare.” His cold eyes focused on Ryker. “You first, Detective. Truth? Or Dare?”

Ryker’s head was bowed, his chest covered in sweat and bruises, but he looked up. He looked at me, at the blood dripping from my mouth, then focused on Viktor. “This oughtta be good, asshole. Dare. I choose dare.”

“I thought you would!” Viktor said with a wide smile. “A cop is known for their bravery, their courage. A dare is a natural choice, after all.”

Viktor walked to the fire burning inside the barrel and picked up something from the floor. A tire iron. My heart stuttered in my chest. He held it into the flames.

“This is a test of not only your courage, but your ability to endure pain,” he said. Taking the tire iron from the fire, I saw the end of it glowed with heat. He walked over to Ryker.

“I’m going to press this into your side for ten seconds,” he said. “If you ask, I will remove it. But then she”—he pointed at me—“will endure the rest of the time you could not. If you refuse, she’ll endure all ten seconds. Understood?”

I was horrified. “No! Please, Viktor! Don’t—” But Ryker was already nodding.

“Fine.”

“No!” I screamed as Viktor pressed the tire iron to Ryker’s flesh. Every muscle in his body went rigid, his face contorting in pain. He gritted his teeth, grunting, but didn’t flinch away. I could smell the stench of burnt flesh and tears streamed down my face.

“You sonofabitch!” I yelled, jumping to my feet, but two of the guys had their hands on my shoulders instantly, shoving me back down.

Ten seconds was an eternity when someone you loved was hurting.

After what felt like way more than ten seconds, Viktor stepped back. There was a livid brand in Ryker’s skin and his head hung again. I couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not.

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