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I bit the bottom corner of my lip and gave her a feral smile.
“I wonder if Roman Atwater knows how to sing.” I turned the handle and pushed the door open, stepping into the large, open room and closing it behind me.
Roman was secured to a chair next to a long metal table. Unlike the other times we had done this, he was not sedated and didn’t have a hood on his head. Not like I gave a shit about his condition. He would be screaming in pain and then dead soon enough. I was more than happy to give him his fucked up ending.
“Roman Atwater.” I sang with a lilt tone. “Nice to finally meet you after all this time. Have a good vacation? I’ve heard so many great things about the Cayman Islands.”
I picked up the knife on the metal table beside him with a smile that dripped malice. I slid the blade along it, making a sharp, scraping noise.
“It was lovely, actually. But I know you didn’t bring me here to discuss where I’ve been hiding out all these months. So why don’t you just skip the pleasantries and ask me the questions you really kidnapped me for.” He was so calm and unfazed by this situation that it pissed me off to no end. Not even an ounce of fear was showing in that calm fucking facade of his. I bit my cheek as I gripped the knife tighter and moved to stand directly in front of him.
“You don’t tell me what to do, you piece of shit. I am in control here. You are the one strapped down to a chair in the basement of an old building. Not me.” I hissed, and my eyes darkened as I glared down at him, taking my knife and setting the flat part on his shoulder, then dragging the sharp point along the side of his neck. I was going to make him bleed for days. Even if I had to drag his body to a new location later, I would give him the slow, agonizing death he deserved.
“You’re going to have to try harder than that to intimidate me, sweetheart.” He chuckled as if this was breakfast at fucking Tiffany’s.
I snapped. My vision bleeding red like it always did when the monster inside of me took over. When I lost complete control over myself. I pulled back and stabbed the knife into his shoulder, making sure it was in a spot that wouldn’t hit a major artery. He clenched his jaw and groaned from the bite of the blade. He didn’t scream, he just smirked back up at me like some psychotic asshole. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?
“You think you’re the first to come after me?” He gritted out. “To torture me? Try again.” His laugh was twisted and sadistic. It turned my blood cold, even with my switch flipped. If I were a monster, then he would be a demon that had crawled out of the pits of hell. “I know how this world works and how to beat everyone in it. I’ll tell you whatever your client wants to know because, in the end, it won’t matter. I always fucking win.”
I let go of the knife and punched him across the face, and when he turned back to face me, I punched it again. I punched him three more times before I felt my knuckles bruise and the skin break from the hits. He spat a mouthful of blood on the floor.
“With what you did to my employees, you’re no better than me, sweetheart. Your soul is just as dark as mine. We take lives, just in very different ways.” He hissed through his teeth, and he licked the rest of the blood from his lips. I didn’t understand what he was talking about. Taking lives? I thought he was trying to release a drug that saved and restored lives, not take them.
Roman laughed again, throwing his head back and turning his gaze to whatever got his attention behind me as he lifted it back up. I heard the click of a gun being loaded and turned to look over my shoulder.
“Welcome to the show, my friend,” Roman said amusedly. “I see you brought the gun; much more fun than her tiny knife.”
My eyes widened, and my gaze locked onto the one person I did not expect to show up here—the one person whom I thought was trying to keep the CIA off of me until I could finish my job. Staring at him, I snapped out of my off-state, and my heart began pounding in my chest.
It was Atlas.
And he had a gun pointed at both Roman and me.
Atlas was raging inside. The hand holding his gun shook uncontrollably from the fury that threatened to spill out of him. I wasn’t sure what to do; I didn’t understand why he was here and not back with the CIA, preventing them from finding us here.
Was the rest of the CIA with him? Did he lie to me and set me up? I was so confused that my head started spinning. Was he here to kill me? After everything that had happened between us over the last twenty-four hours? Doubt began settling into my bones, and I knew I was out of my mind to think he would risk his own career and life over me. What a joke I was.
“Atlas put the gun down. Please.” I held my hands up, taking a single step towards him. If he was going to kill me, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
“No, Chyler. This motherfucker’s life is not yours to take” His voice was dripping with venom, his gaze turning savage. “It’s mine.” He ground out; his breathing was so heavy that his shoulders rose and fell with each intake and release of air. He looked like he had sprinted across the city to get here in time. I don’t understand what is happening right now.
“What are you talking about? You and the CIA were protecting Roman. Trying to prevent us from taking him out.” He never confirmed any of that information with me, but I don’t see any other reason for the CIA to have tracked us to that manufacturing plant where we tortured and killed Michael unless their goal was to stop us.
“That’s where you are wrong. I was never trying to stop you. Even from the very beginning, I have always been after Atwater. I’ve always been helping you.”
I? He was after Roman?
His gaze snapped to mine as I took another step towards him, hands still raised. His stunning eyes, which burst with blues, greens, and browns, prevented me from moving any further. Why didn’t he tell me this last night? Why reveal himself now?
“Tell me, Atlas,” I spoke softly.
“You wouldn’t understand.” He gritted out through his teeth, his jaw clenched tightly.
“Try me.” I needed him to open up to me. I surrendered myself to him; he could do the same in return. I wanted to understand what was going on and how he was involved in all of this—because apparently, I was wrong about everything up until this very moment.
“I was your client, Chyler. I was the one who hired Charlotte to track down Atwater.”
No… Disbelief hit me like a tidal wave, and my eyes widened, my pulse beginning to race.
