Page 114 of Deadfall

“I want to speak to Octavius,” I said.

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Then I’m not talking.”

The man tilted his head like I amused him. He raised his gun and pointed it at Jackal. Without looking away, he pulled the trigger. The bullet buried in Jackal’s gut and he collapsed forward with a groan. When I didn’t show any signs of distress, the man chuckled.

“So, it’s not that one,” he mused.

He walked over to Jackal and yanked him up by his hair. “Where is the safe house?”

“Fuck—you—” Jackal panted.

“Where is the safe house?” The man asked calmly.

Jackal didn’t waver. “I’m not telling you shit.”

The man held out his hand and one of his soldiers placed a pair of pliers in his palm. He tipped Jackal’s head back and buried the pliers into his remaining eye.

“Last chance, before you lose sight for whatever remains of your last few moments on Earth—where is the safe house?”

Jackal stayed silent until the pliers dug in deeper and with a sickening sound, the man pulled his eye slowly out of the socket. Jackal tried to stay quiet, until the nerves tore, and he screamed. The man let go and Jackal collapsed forward. He lifted his head and glared sightlessly in my direction.

“This is all–your–fucking fault!” He screamed. “You fucking bitch—Riggs shouldn’t have—”

“Shut up, Jackal!” Hangman roared. “Not another word!”

Jackal collapsed sobbing on the ground. The man dropped the eye in front of him and took a few steps over to Jamal.

“What about you? Is it you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jamal said flatly.

“Are you the one she’ll break for?” The man clarified.

Jamal barked a laugh. “Doubt it.”

He walked behind Hangman. “What about you?”

“Negative, bossman.”

“Interesting,” The man said. “Well, then I wonder if either of you will break for her.”

He jerked his head at someone behind me and they tore off my vest and ripped my shirt down my back. I watched Hangman’s eyes narrow and lips firm. Jamal stiffened beside him. The first lash jolted me forward and sent heat blazing across my skin. I gritted my teeth at the second.

“This will continue until someone tells me what I need to know,” the man said.

The blows continued, one after the other, until I was panting and flinching each time the whip landed. It became harder and harder to stay composed. I didn’t dare look too long at Jamal or Hangman, knowing it would be seen as weakness.

“Fuck,” Jamal cursed.

The hits stopped. The man moved in front of Jamal. “Have something to say?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I growled.

“Don’t do it, man,” Hangman muttered.

Jamal cursed quietly again. Blood rushed to my ears and heat erupted through my veins. The audacity of Jamal—