me!” She threw herself on the table, trying to get to the scarf and the plush toy. Powell and Fischer yanked her down roughly on the metal chair, but she pushed away from them, continuing to try and claw her way across the table, stretching toward the items.
“Those are mine! They belong to me!” Caroline’s screams echoed through the room as the men dragged her back to the chair.
Fischer pulled his gun out and put it to her head. “Don’t move.”
Murdock pulled the scarf up by its edge, and the animal by its tail. “Disgusting, really. I should probably be wearing gloves. So much blood. I don’t want to get any diseases.” He tossed them back on the table, stepping back with a triumphant look on his face. “I’m sorry, Gerard. Did those mean something to you?”
Caroline shoved away from Fischer, toppling her chair. Like she gave a shit if anyone shot her now. She lunged at Murdock and they both tumbled to the floor.
He had to die. And she was going to kill him even if she lost her life in the effort. She grabbed at his face, catching him off guard just long enough to slide the links connecting her cuffs down against his throat. She pressed against his trachea and he made a gurgling noise, but the smile stayed on his face. He pushed her off him as if she were a rag doll.
Who was she kidding? Her spirit was willing. More than willing. Her spirit wanted nothing more than to strangle every last breath out of Jeffrey Murdock. But her flesh was weak. Fischer and Powell pulled her from the floor, pressing her against the wall.
Murdock had a split lip. Had she caused that? She hoped so. “You’ll pay for that,” he rasped. “Goddamn cunt.”
Fuck him and fuck that word. She reached for Fischer’s gun hand. She needed a weapon and she needed it now. But Fischer knew she was weak, both mentally and physically. He pushed her away into Powell’s arms. She kept staring at the gun. Feet away from her. He held it irresponsibly, lazily by his side. A loaded gun. She stared at it. Could she go for it again?
Murdock wiped at his mouth. “Try it and I guarantee you’ll be anything but dead, and you’ll be miserable.”
She pushed Powell away from her, taking a step toward Fischer. The three men tackled her to the floor.
“Don’t.” Murdock grabbed her by the throat. “Your suffering isn’t over yet, Gerard. I’ve got plans for you.”
“You’re a bastard,” she choked out.
“Yes, but I’m free and in fantastic health, unlike you.” Murdock released her, picking the bloody items up off the table, tossing them back into the box. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be with your children soon enough. I think we’ve had enough fun for today, though. Don’t you?” He gestured at Fischer and Powell. “She’s earned some alone time in her cell. Be extra cautious getting her back there. I’m not sure she’s in a very good mood right now.”
The guards dragged her down the hall as she tried to keep from losing control. Fischer still had his gun in his hand, and she again contemplated grabbing it and pulling the trigger, not at them but at herself. Would they have time to react before she got the job done? Probably not. She had nothing left. Everything that ever mattered to her was gone.
The guards unlocked the door to her cell and pushed her inside. She caught herself on the wall and spun around with her last little bit of adrenaline, socking Fischer in the face. He shoved her down and she landed on the floor with a thud. When she looked up, he had his gun pointed at her.
“Do it.” Her lip trembled. She didn’t bother trying to hold back her tears. What was the point? They had no empathy for her, no pity, not even a small shred of respect. “Please.”
Fischer smirked and holstered his weapon. “Not today. Believe me, if I’m the one that gets to finish you off, I won’t be using a gun.” He kicked her in the stomach before crouching down to remove her cuffs. He knew she couldn’t fight back. “Not when this is so much more enjoyable.”
Powell followed with a few swift kicks to her legs. Further humiliation, further proof that neither man had a heart or a soul. “Sweet dreams,” he said.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Past
The tension had been building over the past few weeks. It was now February.