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With Michael secured in place, they backed out of the warehouse and drove to the office building across the street, where they would monitor and record everything happening in here. I walked over to the doors and pressed the button to close them, keeping the rain out. It was loud in the warehouse between the heavy rain and the thunder outside. At one point, I could swear I heard hail ricocheting off the metal roofing.
I pulled up the spare chair Madison had left for me, and turned it with the back facing Michael. I straddled it, resting my forearms on the back, and waited for him to come off of the sedative. I didn’t give him a large dose, just enough to knock him out for about an hour, as I wasn’t sure how long it would take us to get him here and strapped down.
I pulled out my phone and browsed my social media; only minutes had passed, but it felt like hours. I heard Michael groan from over my phone, and I pulled my attention from it to see his head start moving slowly from side to side.
I took a deep breath and stood from my chair, sliding it aside. The metal on the concrete made a loud scraping sound—intentional, of course. I then flipped my switch and fell into the role of his executioner for the night.
Michael was startled by the loud noise and jerked his head around, trying to shake the hood from his head.
“Who—who’s there?” Readjusting my mask and hood, I pulled the black hood from his head and tucked part of it into my back pocket.
“Hi, Michael, is it? Michael August?” I furrowed my brow and tilted my head like the animal I was as I stepped back to get a good look at him. He glared at me as if that was going to deter me from what I had planned for him.
Un-fucking-likely.
“Who the fuck are you?” He snapped. Oh, he has definitely got more fight to him than Tyler. This is going to make for a fun night. I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips as I bit down on my tongue and placed my hands on my hips.
“I am your worst nightmare tonight,” I announced, pulling out my knife and tossing the handle around in my hand. “I know this is a little cliché, but care to play a game with me? I love games.” I twirled the knife in the air before grasping it firmly in my hand. I bent forward, placing the flat side of the blade against his cheek and resting my free hand on his arm.
“Seeing as you know my name, you know that you are fucking with the wrong person right now. Roman will kill all of you fuckers if you do anything to me.” He growled.
I let out a sadistic laugh—What? Did he seriously think that he was going to intimidate me? And the mouth on this man; I do love it when they have filthy mouths.
“Here’s the thing, Michael.” I returned my knife to its sheath temporarily and rested both of my hands on his arms, leaning in closer to his face. “Roman isn’t going to do shit for you. But if you want to make this easier, just tell me where he is, and I might let you go.” I hissed.
“Not happening, you fucking cunt.” He spat. Clenching his jaw, he looked into my eyes; his moss green eyes had a fire behind them, and without warning, he bent his head back and slammed it forward into my face.
“Motherfucker!” I shrieked, stepping back and pressing my palm to my cheekbone, which felt like it had split from the force.
Michael is a dead man.
Granted, he was always going to die, but now I—really—wanted to kill him.
I pulled my knife back out and dragged it across his left arm, splitting the skin. Blood began pouring onto the floor. He groaned from the pain.
“Fuck!” I hissed again, bringing my hand back up to my cheek. He got me good, and my face felt like it was on fire. I will have to have Madison take a look at it later. Perks of your friend being a nurse, I just hope it won’t scar.
“Chyler, are you alright?” Madison asked over the earpiece.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Michael likes to play rough.” I gritted out, dropping my hand from my face and rolling my neck and my shoulders. His knuckles were turning white from the strain of holding back the pain in his arm. His jaw ticked as he looked up at me with dark eyes.
“I’m not telling you shit.” He hissed between his teeth.
“You’ll tell me everything, Michael, and if you don’t, you’ll be leaving here in pieces.” I deadpanned. “Now tell me where you last saw Roman, and don’t lie to me because I will know if you do.” I wouldn’t technically, but he didn’t need to know that. All he needed to know was that I could tell if he was telling the truth or not. Alexis was fast enough on her laptop to fact-check him within seconds.
“Do your worst. I’m not talking.” He rolled his wrists and flexed his hands. They were most likely becoming numb from the lack of circulation with the zip ties.
“What the fuck is it with you guys and your loyalty to him? He’s just some fucking pharmaceutical asshole.” I threw my hands in the air and then slammed them on my hips.
A dark chuckle bubbled up from his throat, “That ‘pharmaceutical asshole’ is going to destroy the world. Let me guess; no one that you’ve kidnapped and tortured talked or had the answers you were looking for?”
I couldn’t help the deep, feral growl in my throat as I stabbed my knife into his thigh and punched him across the face. I was getting sick of him toying with me.
“Don’t fuck with me, Michael.” I seethed, and I ripped open his shirt, the buttons flying everywhere, before pulling the knife out of his thigh and slicing it across his pectoral muscles. His laughing was smothered by screams of pain.
“Not so fucking funny now, is it?” My voice was laced with malice as I pointed my knife in his face.
“You fucking cunt. I’ll kill you!”
