Playing Dirty (Risky Business, #2)(85)

“For you, I choose Truth,” he said. “Tell me, Sage. Do you love the detective?”

“Y-yes,” I stammered. My hand trembled and he tightened his hold. I glanced at the still-glowing tire iron.

“And Parker? Do you love him, too?”

I glanced over where Parker and Ryker were tied. Both men were watching.

“O-of course I do,” I said, trying to pull my hand away.

“And have you had sex with them both?”

Oh God. This wasn’t how I’d planned on telling Ryker.

“Say the truth …” he prompted, moving the heated iron closer to my palm.

“Yes,” I blurted, keeping my voice down.

“I’m afraid I didn’t hear you. What was that?” The iron was only inches away.

“Yes! I said yes. Now let go of me.”

“Not so fast, my dear,” Viktor said. “Two men have endured great pain because of you. They deserve to know which one you want. So tell me, who shall it be? The detective? Or Parker?”

I stared up at him, aghast. Was he asking so only one wouldn’t be killed? What would happen to the other if I said one of their names?

“I-I don’t know,” I stammered.

“Tsk tsk,” Viktor scolded. “Let me assist you in making up your mind.” Without warning, he pressed the metal into the center of my palm.

I screamed at the pain, excruciating and white hot. Then it stopped.

“That’s just a taste,” Viktor said with a cold smile.

“Stop playing with the girl, Viktor,” Parker called out. “I’m the one who screwed you over. Come play with me instead! Or are you not man enough that you have to pick on little girls?”

Viktor didn’t respond to the taunt.

“Cops will be here any minute, Viktor,” Ryker added. His voice was strained and I knew he had to be in a lot of pain. I was shocked he hadn’t passed out.

“Tell me,” Viktor insisted. “Or I will put a hole in the center of your palm with this.” He brandished the iron. “Choose. Who do you love the most, dear Sage? They deserve to know.”

I frantically shook my head, terrified of what he’d do no matter whose name I said.

“This will be painful, I’m afraid.” He gave a mock sigh of regret and lifted my hand higher.

Parker and Ryker both started yelling at him, taunting and threatening, the bedsprings rattling above them, but all I could see was the glowing metal touching my hand …

I screamed again and tears streamed from my eyes. The pain was worse than before and I could smell my own flesh burning. I struggled to get away, but the guard held me and it was hurting so bad and I couldn’t take it …

“Parker!” I screamed.

The iron left my skin immediately and the guard let go of me. I collapsed onto the concrete floor and curled on my side. Cradling my hand to my chest, I tried to slow my breathing. I was hyperventilating and my vision was edged in black. If I blacked out, God only knew what Viktor would do to get me to awaken.

“Gentlemen, we have an answer,” Viktor said. “Congratulations, Parker. It seems the lady prefers you to the detective.”

I pried open my eyes, matted with sweat and tears, and watched Viktor approach Ryker.

“My apologies, Detective,” he said. “But it is preferable to know, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ryker didn’t reply.

Despair overwhelmed me. What was going to happen to us? Surely there was something I could do? My hands were free now, but the two guards still flanked me.

My gaze drifted to the hallway and where I thought perhaps an exit was located. Maybe if I could get away, make a break for it, I could get help.

“… women are worthless,” Viktor was saying. “She deserves to be punished, treated like the whore she is, for what she’s done to the two of you.” He turned and spoke to the guards. “She’s a whore. Treat her as such.”

Understanding dawned just as the two men looked down at me, and suddenly I was out of time for planning.

Panic made adrenaline surge through my veins and I scrambled backward and onto my feet. Then I was running.

One of them growled something in Russian, but I could hear both of them coming after me. Behind that, I heard Viktor’s laughter.

I ran as if the hounds of hell were after me, down an endless hallway, all while praying I was heading for an exit.

A door blocked my path and my heart leapt. I slammed into the crossbar and shoved it open … right into an identical warehouse from the one I’d just escaped from.

“Gotcha!”

Hands locked around my arms and I screamed bloody murder as they pulled me back into the dark hallway. The door slammed shut in front of me.

I began fighting in earnest, but one session of self-defense wasn’t enough to free myself from two well-trained men who each had a hundred pounds or more on me. In moments, they had me on my back on the floor. One had my arms pinned over my head, the other forced my legs apart and knelt between them.

“Hold her,” the one kneeling said.

The guy on top of me started unfastening his pants. I couldn’t free my arms; he was too strong. But my legs were free.

I kicked out and my foot caught him in the chest, but did nothing. I remembered what Parker had said about getting them on the chin, that even the biggest guy would go down, and changed my aim. But he pushed closer, using his chest to pin mine down, and I couldn’t get my legs in between us.