Sloane (8 page)

“Griffin? No, he’s her husband.”

Axel looked horrified. “She
married
him?”

I dragged a hand over my face. If I didn’t need Axel,
I swear to Christ, I would turn around and leave right now. Being
in his presence was pretty much the most frustrating experience of
my entire life.

He opened the bag, took a tiny coke spoon out of his
breast pocket, and snorted it into his left nostril.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“What?” he said.

“If you’re all fucked up on drugs when I’m trying to
talk to you—”

“Sloane, love, I do a line to wake up in the morning.
I’m always fucked up on drugs.”

Oh my God, this was horrible.

He rubbed his nose. “Let’s go back a minute. Did you
say that Leigh was married?”

“Yes, but that’s not the important thing. The
important things is that she’s been—”

“Kidnapped.” He got up from the couch and went over
to the window. He pulled the curtains aside and peered out into the
darkness. “Have you called the police?”

“We can’t… There are reasons the police can’t be
involved, but I can’t go into it.”

He turned back to me, arching an eyebrow. “But you’re
sure that this Armstrong person has her.”

I nodded. “Pretty sure.”

“And so you need my help to get to him.”

“That’s right.”

He turned to the window again. “What if I said it
sounds dreadfully dull to me, and I’m not interested?”

“Well, then I would tell you that Leigh’s life could
be in danger. When we were here before, you said you cared about
her. If you really care, you can’t let anything happen to her.”

He laughed softly, still facing away from me. “Maybe
I don’t care about Leigh. Maybe I gave up on her since she
obviously gave up on me.”

I interlaced my fingers and looked down at the
carpet.

He let the curtain fall down. “What if I told you
that I’d reached the end of my patience, and that I want you to
leave?”

I didn’t know what to say. “I…” I drew in a breath.
“I would beg you.”

Axel turned around and fixed me with a stare. His
eyes seemed to be burrowing into my own, like he was looking into
my soul. His voice was an intense whisper. “Do it. Beg.”

“I…” I felt flustered again. My throat was dry, and
it was hard to talk. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came
out.

All the while, he watched me, an eager look on his
face.

“Please,” I choked out. “Please, help me.”

A smile stole over his features. “Oh, I do love it
when beautiful women beg.”

I looked back at the carpet. Fuck him.

Wait. Had he just called me beautiful? I raised my
gaze back to his.

He was still smiling. “I’ll get you into the benefit.
You can come as my date. I haven’t decided on a plus one yet, and
my mother’s been after me about it. You’ll do. Of course, you’re
going to need something to wear.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Thank you. Thank you for
doing this.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. It’s this weekend. I’ll need
a way to get in touch with you to iron out the details. You can
leave your phone number with Charlotte—the girl at the door? The
one in the red corset. She’s handling all of that sort of stuff for
me tonight. If I keep my own phone, I always lose it. Anyway, you
give her your number, and I’ll call you.”

“Um, okay.” Why was he taking charge like this? This
was
my
plan.

“Great,” he said. “Well, now I really am getting
bored. There are bare tits downstairs, and I want to look at them.
So… go away.”

LEIGH

“Face the wall and put your hands against it,” rang
out a voice from behind the door.

Griffin, Silas, and I all exchanged a glance. This
was the first time they’d spoken to us. Whenever they brought food,
they didn’t talk. They just slid it in through a slot under the
door. The food wasn’t good. It was bland and strange. Some sort of
tasteless mush—a kind of grainy slop. It reminded me of gruel from
Oliver Twist
. But unlike Oliver, I hadn’t gotten so hungry
that I was asking for more of the stuff.

“Let’s go,” said the voice.

Silas, who’d been lounging against the wall next to
one of the cots, got to his feet. “Yeah, what if we don’t?”

The door opened a crack. There was a gunshot. The
door pulled shut.

Silas’ head jerked backwards. He crumpled to the
floor, lifeless.

Griffin groaned. “We might as well do what they say.
If we keep going dark over and over, it will weaken us.”

I got up and faced the wall. I put my hands over my
head, palms flat against the wall. Griffin did the same thing,
standing next to me.

I could hear the door opening.

I peered over my shoulder. Knox hadn’t gotten up. He
wasn’t facing the wall. He was slumped in a heap, his eyes glassy.
I saw the guards march over to him.

One of them saw me watching.

“Face the wall,” he snapped.

I turned around.

Behind me, I heard the sounds of them hoisting Knox
up. They were dragging him across the floor. Then the door opened
and closed.

I peeked around again. The guards were gone, and so
was Knox. I relaxed, moving away from the wall. “Oh my God, what
are they doing to him?”

Griffin put his arms around me. “Hey, we’re going to
figure out a way out of this.”

I looked up at him. “How?”

He didn’t say anything.

I eased out of his grasp and walked over to the place
where Knox had been sitting. “There’s something wrong with
him.”

Griffin hadn’t spent much time trying to talk to
Knox. Silas had gone over to him at one point, attempted a
conversation. But when nothing had really come of it, he’d given
up. Griffin and I had watched their exchange, but hadn’t said
anything. So, we hadn’t discussed Knox’s mental state at all. The
guys had been too busy worrying about Sloane and Christa, who they
thought were likely to appear in this room with us at any
minute.

I tried to assure them that Sloane could take care of
herself. After they told me how they’d found me, I said that I was
sure Sloane was working on a way to get us out of there. I found it
reassuring, but the guys were both too nervous.

Griffin dragged his toe against the floor. “Yeah, I
guess it was too much to hope that he was staying quiet because he
had a grudge against me.”

“No, he’s not himself. They’re doing something to
him.”

“But what?” He looked around the room as if he was
going to find an answer in the ceiling.

“What did Sloane say about this lab place?” I said.
“What kind of stuff do they make?”

“She said the memory-loss stuff,” said Griffin. “You
remember? At Op Wraith, we injected French with it? And…”

And my father.

But later, I’d accidentally killed my father, and we
didn’t talk about that. It wasn’t as if my father hadn’t deserved
it. Near as I could tell, all the people I’d killed had deserved
it. But it was funny how that didn’t make me feel better about it.
I’d had to accept that about myself—that I was capable of murder,
of torture, of taking pleasure in causing people misery. But it was
a heavy weight that I carried around, and I was never going to be
the same.

I nodded. “I remember.” I took a deep breath. “But
that’s not what’s going on with Knox, at least not entirely. His
memory does seem to be screwed up, but he’s also got something else
wrong. It’s like they’ve completely ruined his brain.”

Griffin grimaced. “And that’s what they’re going to
do to us.”

Silas stirred on the other side of the room. “Fuck,”
he muttered.

I went over to him. “You okay?”

He sat up. “Yeah, great.” He gave the door a dark
look. “Those fuckers. If I get my hands on them—”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Silas,” said Griffin. “We
have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“We have no idea about anything,” said Silas. “But
one thing’s for sure. We know that they’ve got us locked up. We
have to find some way out of here. Next time they come back in,
we’ll all pretend to be good little kids facing the wall. Then
we’ll rush ‘em.”

“And then they’ll shoot us.” Griffin shook his head.
“No, we need more information. We need to find out what they’re
doing. When Knox gets back here, we have to get him to explain it
to us.”

“Knox isn’t capable of explanation anymore,” I
said.

“Well, we’ll have to make him that way,” said
Griffin.

I let out a caustic laugh. “I don’t think torturing
him is going to work this time, Griffin.”

He shot me a disbelieving look. “Why would you say
that?” He was hurt.

“You know why,” I said. Because Griffin had tortured
Knox before. I hadn’t witnessed it, because Griffin had stopped
when I got there. But I’d participated in torturing Marcel, the man
who’d raped Griffin in prison. Griffin and I had tortured Marcel
together. So I knew how that worked. And there was no way that I
was ever allowing either of us to do that again.

Griffin’s nostrils flared. “That’s what you think of
me, isn’t it? You think I’m violent and horrible. You think I’d
hurt Knox.”

“I don’t think you’re violent and horrible, but you
just
said
that you’d hurt Knox.”

“That isn’t what I said,” said Griffin. “I wish you
wouldn’t assume the worst about me.”

“I only—”

“Stop it,” said Silas, his expression cold. He
glanced back and forth between us. “Look, we’re all violent people
who did bad things. Can we please get over that shit?”

I bit my lip. He was right. “Sorry,” I mumbled to
Griffin.

“No, doll, it’s okay. I guess I can see why you
would—”

“
Please?” said Silas.

Griffin sighed.

I reached for his hand and squeezed it. I was over
it.

CHAPTER SIX

Axel lived in a penthouse apartment in the heart of
Boston. I had to take an elevator all the way up to the top, and I
was wearing a really uncomfortable (not to mention cold) dress. I’d
gone shopping to pick something up for this benefit, which was
formal, and all the dresses were sort of flimsy. None of them had
sleeves. Heck, I had trouble finding one with straps. So, here I
was, shivering even inside the elevator.

The dress hadn’t been cheap. I was appalled at how
expensive they all actually were. It wasn’t as if I was strapped
for cash. After Op Wraith had been disintegrated, the assassins
left behind had divvied up the assets, which were pretty
impressive. So, we all had enough money to be set for life. But we
also knew that we couldn’t be flashy about our purchases. If we all
suddenly popped up, living the high life, super rich, then that
would draw attention to all of us, and no one wanted that. So I
wasn’t used to spending money on fancy dresses.

I didn’t even like dresses. I didn’t see much point
in getting really dressed up. I liked pretty clothes as much as any
girl, and it was kind of fun to put on makeup and do my hair.
However, it was also a lot of work, and it wasn’t something I
wanted to do all the time. I’d had a devil of a time trying to do
it in the motel room with Jeff, who hadn’t given up on begging me
to release him.

I really didn’t know what I was going to do about
Jeff.

Axel met me at the door in a tuxedo. He looked
surprisingly subdued. His suit had no flashes of plaid or pinstripe
or pink. He eyed me critically. “What the hell are you
wearing?”

I looked down. “A dress. A really expensive fucking
dress, may I add.”

He moved away from the door, letting me inside. “That
dress is hideous.”

I picked up the skirts and examined it. It was made
of a shimmery black fabric. It was simple. I didn’t see what was
wrong with it. “I really don’t think it is.”

He cocked his head. “And how would you know?”

“Well, I have eyes.” I glared at him. I was barely
inside the door, and he was already being a dick.

“It’s all loose and flowy,” he said. “You look like
you’re wearing a mumu.”

“I have to hide a gun in this dress.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A gun?”

I rolled my eyes. “Saving Leigh’s life, remember?
This Armstrong guy is going to take some convincing.”

Axel walked around me in a circle, tapping his chin.
“You need to hide a gun.”

“Yes,” I said. “Don’t freak out about that.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

He looked up, startled. Then he barked out a quick
laugh. “You’ve got a sharp little tongue on you, don’t you,
Sloane?” He gave me a mischievous grin. “I have to admit I like
that in a girl. I like women who keep me on my toes.”

I blushed again. “This is not… a date or
something.”

“Of course it’s not. I don’t go on dates.” He spat
out the word disdainfully. He went back to circling me.

“Can you stop that?” I said.

“I told you, I’m thinking.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. I did
not have the patience to deal with him. I really didn’t.

He came around in front of me, and he put his hands
on my waist.

“What are you doing?” I said.

He ignored me. He dragged his hands higher, up over
my rib cage, then cupping my breasts.

I slapped at his hands. “
Hey!
”

He turned away and pulled his phone out of his
pocket. “Hi, Phillipa. I know it’s last minute, but I was wondering
if you’d be interested in providing a dress for my date
tonight.”

“What?” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with this
dress.”

“It needs to be sexy, but it needs to be able to
conceal as well.” Axel wandered further into his apartment, not
acknowledging me. He listened to the other side of the
conversation. “No, no, she’s probably a six. She’s not fat at all.
Would I go to an event with a fat chick?”