The Merciless (The Merciless #1)(28)

“What are you doing?” Riley reads as she types the message. “I’m lonely.”

She hesitates for a beat, then taps the screen with her thumb. “Send,” she says. She slides the phone back into her pocket and crouches in front of Brooklyn again.

“Now, what should we do while we wait for a response?” she asks, unbending a finger from Brooklyn’s fist. She takes the knife from my hands before I can stop her and slides the tip of it beneath Brooklyn’s fingernail. A phantom pain shoots through all my fingers at once. “How about we play a game? Either you admit your sins, or I do your nails.”

Brooklyn glances down at the knife, then back up at Riley.

“Go to hell,” she says through clenched teeth.

“That didn’t sound like a sin to me,” Riley says, and she drives the knife beneath Brooklyn’s fingernail.

Brooklyn throws her head against the pillar and releases a desperate, animalistic scream. I close my eyes, and, again, I see Riley wedge the knife beneath Brooklyn’s fingernail and shove it forward; I hear the sick pop of the nail separating from Brooklyn’s finger. I start to heave, but I force it down. I can’t fall apart now. I have to get Brooklyn out of here.

I open my eyes in time to see Brooklyn’s tiny black fingernail fall from Riley’s knife and drop to the floor. Brooklyn’s screams dissolve into shaky sobs, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I stare at the bloody clump on the concrete as Riley unpeels another finger from Brooklyn’s fist and slides the tip of her knife just beneath the nail.

“Riley, let’s air this place out,” I interrupt before Riley pushes the knife any farther under Brooklyn’s fingernail. The smoke is thick enough to agitate the back of my throat. Riley’s shoulders stiffen and I freeze, certain she heard the fear in my voice. Any second she’ll turn the knife on me.

Then her shoulders sag, and she wipes the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Yeah,” she says. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Grace and Alexis crowd around Riley as they make their way to the door. I let them walk ahead of me, hesitating at the bottom of the stairs.

Now that she’s alone, Brooklyn collapses against the wooden pillar and her chest rises and falls in quick succession, like she’s going to start hyperventilating. She moves her leg and a spasm of pain shoots across her face.

Riley digs the dead bolt key out of her pocket, her hair covering her face like a veil. Grace and Alexis huddle behind her, whispering in hushed, sympathetic voices. It sounds like they’re talking about Josh, but I’m not really listening.

I could untie Brooklyn, and then it would be three against two. Brooklyn’s hurt, but we might still be able to get past them.

I step back from the stairs, rolling my foot from the ball to the heel so the soles of my sneakers don’t squeak against the floor.

Alexis pats Riley on the shoulder. “It’s better this way,” she says. I try to breathe normally, but every time I inhale, my mouth fills with smoke and I have to struggle not to cough. “At least now you know what kind of guy he is.”

I duck around the concrete wall and race across the basement to kneel next to Brooklyn. She stares straight ahead, like she can’t see me.

“What are you doing?” she hisses, her voice barely a whisper. I grab the rope binding her to the pillar and try to pull the knot apart with my fingers.

“I’m getting you out of here.” I say the words directly into her ear so they don’t echo across the basement.

“Riley’s ruthless. If she catches you, she’ll tie you up, too,” Brooklyn whispers. The ropes slip in my fingers. Shaking now, I search the basement for something I can use to help pull them apart.

“I was lucky Sofia saw them,” Riley says, her voice drifting down the staircase. I ignore her, grabbing a ballpoint pen sticking from the pages of Alexis’s Bible. I try to jerk Brooklyn’s knots loose.

“Sofia?” Riley calls. There’s a moment of silence, and my body goes cold, my fingers frozen on the ropes. The stairs creak as Riley starts down.

“Damn it,” I whisper, digging the pen deeper into the knots. Brooklyn twists around to face me.

“Go,” she says. “Our only chance is if she thinks she can trust you. Otherwise we’re both screwed.”

“Sof, what are you doing?” Riley calls down the stairs. There’s another groan of wood, and I hear Alexis and Grace whispering as they head back down to the basement with her. I’m so close. The knots will give at any moment. I twist the pen against the ropes, and it slips from my sweaty fingers, clattering to the floor.

“Shit,” I hiss.

The footsteps hesitate, and someone mutters, “What was that?”

Brooklyn glances at the staircase, and a muscle in her jaw tightens.

“Stab me.” Her eyes shift down to the pen on the floor.

“What?”

“Sofia, she has to trust you,” Brooklyn insists. “It’s our only way out.” I wipe my hands on my pants and pick up the pen. My fingers tremble as I lift the pen to Brooklyn’s leg. There’s no way I can do this. Riley’s feet slap against the basement floor—any second she’ll turn the corner and see me.

“Do it!” Brooklyn says. A candle sparks behind me, turning Brooklyn’s eyes red. They look like they’re glowing again. I nervously drop the pen, and it clatters to the floor again, rolling next to Brooklyn’s fingers. I reach for it, but Brooklyn grabs it first.