She watched Shane silently from her position on the floor, rolled on her side to ease some of the pressure on her knees the device inflicted if she chose to sit upright. Her entire body ached, both from the horrible confinement of the apparatus binding her and the casual abuses Wallace had doled out over the past two days.
Her tormentor seemed completely at ease as Shane approached. “Hey, boss.”
Mia could see Shane was barely holding himself in check, and her stomach knotted as she wondered if she or Wallace was the object of his repressed anger.
“Why is she here?”
Wallace still seemed oblivious. “You told me to find her, boss, so I got the coordinates from your computer like you said and tracked her down.”
Shane’s fist clenched at his side. The other might have as well, but it was difficult to tell with his arm in the sling. “I told you to find her and put her under lock and key. I didn’t tell you to put her in the cage.”
For just a second, his hot gaze scorched her. Mia trembled under the force of his rage, though she dared hope it was directed solely at Wallace.
“I sure as fuck didn’t tell you to strip her and turn her into your own personal sadistic wet dream.”
Wallace stiffened, perhaps finally realizing he was in deep shit. “You said to lock her up. That’s always meant the cage, boss. The cage means we can play with them first.”
Shane scowled. “You aren’t playing with anyone. They’re in the cage to sweat and enhance fear. It’s not supposed to be some sick game, you twisted fuck.”
Abruptly, his attention turned to her. “Did he hurt you?”
She nodded slowly, wondering if his eyes weren’t working. Evidence of Wallace’s assault, in the form of bruises and scrapes, marred her body. Tentatively, Mia licked her lips, wincing as the split in her tongue opened again. It hadn’t had a chance to heal since her collision with the cell bars yesterday when Wallace had thrown her face-first against them.
“Did he touch you?”
Realizing what he was asking, she shook her head. Her voice remained trapped inside her like a timid mouse in a hole.
Before she could fully grasp what was happening, there was a gun in Shane’s hand. Even as her mind processed its appearance, she saw him point it at Wallace and fire. A deafening sound echoed around the small concrete room, and she whimpered as sharp pain ricocheted through her ears.
With a look of stunned surprise, Wallace fell to the floor, a gaping hole in his forehead, and a lake of blood surrounding him in seconds. Horrified at the sight, though not managing any compassion for his lost life, she turned her gaze from the dead man to the live one twisting a key in the lock.
Realizing he still vibrated with fury, she pressed her bare back against the rough concrete and waited for Shane to enter the cell. It was clear not all his rage had been for Wallace.
Despite his obvious anger, his expression and tone were cool when he loomed over her. “That’s a good look for you, Mia. I’m tempted to keep you bound like this for the next ten years or so.”
“Are you going to beat me and throw me around the cell, too?” How was her voice so normal and composed, considering the events of the past few days, culminating in witnessing the murder of someone? A sadistic psychopath to be sure, but it still should have left her more traumatized.
His lips skinned back in a facsimile of a smile that was more like the satisfied smirk of a hunter cornering its prey. “Not at all. I have much better ways to make you pay, Mia.”
She bit her tongue to hold in a retort, wanting to point out she had nothing to pay for, but afraid to push him in his current volatile mood. This was a side of Shane she didn’t think she’d seen before, balancing between anger and something she might tentatively identify as hurt if he were a different person.
That was stupid because everyone could be hurt. Had she hurt Shane by running from him, or was he just enraged she still wasn’t the tamed pet he’d envisioned when he stole her from her life? The not knowing kept her silent as he bent to free her from the painful contraption that had held her.
“It’s going to hurt like a bitch in about a minute,” he said as if speaking about nothing more consequential than the possibility of rain showers. “Your muscles and blood supply are going to realize the change in positions, and you’re going to be in a world of pain.” He grinned at her.
Mia sat up cautiously, already feeling the tingling that was escalating to pain. “You don’t have to sound so cheerful…” she trailed off as the throbbing increased, letting out a wail when burning agony overtook her. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yep.” He knelt beside her, grasping her forearm to haul her to her feet.
“God, it hurts.” She tried to drop back into a ball on the floor, but he wouldn’t permit it. “Let go.”
“If I do, you’ll fall.” He didn’t seem concerned either way as he lessened his hold, and she started to slump downward.
“Fuck me.” Mia’s shoulders screamed in protest as she braced her palms on the floor.
“Oh, I will later, but not yet.”
She looked up at him, not missing the surge of satisfaction in his expression. “What’s first?”
