FIRE (Elite Forces #2)(9)

I can feel blood seeping from my feet as I slowly adjust my legs until I feel the dirt below me. He says all I have to do is give up Al-Quaren’s location, but I know that's signing my death papers. I can't do that. For one thing, the team won't take him to the same location. It's something I'd do too if I were in their situation, change the plan. Ty needs this man for something. I'm just not sure what.

“Why do you f*cking care where he is?” I speak through the dryness in my mouth and watch the anger rise in him even more.

“Because there's a f*cking price tag on my goddamn head for letting him get captured under my watch.” Ah, I get it now. He f*cked up and now he's scrambling. In some f*cked-up way, this brings joy to me even in my current state.

“Do you remember burning me?” Ty steps right up to my face. Damn. He’s quick to change the subject.

“Nope,” I say.

“Of course, you don't. I'm going to have fun reminding you of all the bullshit you did to me growing up.” I watch a man come from the house with a large pot of something steaming. I know shit is about to get really bad, and all I can think about is him getting just a little f*cking closer.

He nods as the man gets near me, and in the next second, my skin erupts as hot water burns nearly every inch of the front half of my body. Oh my god. The f*cking pain.

Ty steps right up to my face, clicking his tongue as he takes a stroll down memory lane. I remember burning him, alright. The two of us tried to make mom some coffee. I accidently spilled the entire pot down his front. He squealed in pain and I cried. God, we were so young, and I felt terrible for it. But this, the pain he is inflicting on me now, makes that small pot of coffee nonexistent. Our mother took care of him. He was rushed to the hospital, and his burns were cared for immediately. He came out unscathed.

His laughter erupts, and I listen to gunfire going off before the sounds of them walking away calm my mind in the slightest way. I’m left hanging from this half dead tree with my scorched body becoming hotter by the second. I work hard to keep my mind focused on my blond-haired woman. Jade.





CHAPTER FOUR


KALEB


My skin is f*cking raw. One minute, my chest feels like a burning fire that simply won’t calm down, and the next, I can't feel a thing. My internal emergency system is shutting down and the pain-killing chemicals are steaming through my veins, causing my blood to boil from anger. My own brother is behind the torture, and his hysterical laughter after each session tells me he's enjoying it immensely. It's a different feeling when the enemy is my own flesh and blood.

I’ve been beaten with a whip among many other things. The first striking sensation brings fire to my skin, then every strike, slash, and gouge after pulls a numbness to the surface that nearly matches my internal feelings about everything in the world, except my hatred for my brother and my love for Jade. A slow burn continues down my back as my skin continues to be ripped apart, and the feeling of blood dripping after a few strikes reminds me I still actually have feeling in some places.

And my dick. That motherf*cker will pay for that one. I’ve never felt pain like a straight-up strike from a leather whip can cause to my dick before in my life. You could shoot me. Stab me. Burn me. But this…I have no f*cking words. Not a damn thing to explain the pain that continues to shoot through my balls, up my spine, and through every other muscle in my body. It’s a constant suffering that’s indescribable.

The minute my body tries to relax is the minute the excruciating shit zig-zags throughout my entire nervous system. I physically want to shut down and drop my dead weight right here, but I won’t. Revenge is a beautiful thing, they say. I’ll get mine. On every last one of these drug-smuggling heathen motherf*ckers.

Now, my skin itches, my muscles cramp, and my arms shake from the uncontrollable urge to writhe their way out of these restraints.

He will not break me. The drug king piece of shit.

“Motherf*cker,” I whisper into the night.

Jade. My mind needs her. My body is beaten down, and I’m so damn weak and tired. My will to live for us will endure the physical pain they inflict on me. It’s my damn heart that’s breaking and splitting in two. For her. All for her.

I throw my head back, wincing as my skin pulls tight on my chest. This is all kinds of f*cked up. I desperately try to vision Jade standing in front of me, but somehow I can’t. All I can see is the loathing on my little brother’s face. All I can hear is his laugh when the whip cracks against my skin and his hateful words of how I ruined his life as they echo through the night air.

I’d be a liar if I said I’m not hurt. My heart is bleeding out as bad as the cuts on my skin. Worse even. This is my kid brother.

The memories flood my mind about the trouble we used to get into. Boys being boys. Teasing our sister. Threatening her boyfriends. All of it. That is, until he f*cked up his own life, by his choice. Sticking a damn needle in his arm and coming home like he thought I was going to pat him on the back for flying so high he couldn’t see straight.

“You ruined your own life. Not me.”

“Is that so?” His deep, slurry voice calls out from in front of me. I snap. My vocal chords strain and fight against me to speak to a man I don’t even know anymore.

“Damn right, it is. You decided to f*ck up your life, not me. And now, look at you. You’re worn. Your skin looks like shit. You disgust me, little brother.” Hissing through the agony of my battered body and my broken heart, I fight to leave him with words that will haunt him during his deepest, darkest nights. He'll remember this until he dies, we both will. Now is my chance to give him this little going-away talk. Because I'm afraid that one way or another, I'll be going away from this soon.