Unshackle (Deliver #7) - Pam Godwin Page 0,77

it around her head, and four steel legs fanned out from the ring. Those curved legs extended over her chin and cheeks, preventing her from turning the ring in her mouth while forcing her jaw wide open to accept anything into her throat. Like probing fingers. Or a cock.

Or a black widow spider.

His stomach churned. His heartbeat tightened, and his insides ran too hot and too cold as he fought the excessive need to swallow. He couldn’t trust himself to speak without a quaking voice.

“She can put her head underwater.” Marco stepped to Luke’s side, his dark features ever darker in the thickness of night. “Though I don’t think she’d enjoy that. Have you ever tried to keep your throat closed while your mouth is held open underwater?”

He’d learned many survival tricks during his time in Van’s attic. But nothing related to water play.

“She can’t dislodge the mesh hood,” Marco said. “It’s connected to her life vest. Her hands are bound, and her feet are tied to a cement block, keeping her vertical.”

“Why?” He girded his backbone, forcing strength in his tone. “What’s the point of this?”

“We don’t trust you, John Smith.”

“I assure you,” Luke scoffed, “after this double-crossing bullshit, the feeling is fucking mutual.”

“We haven’t double-crossed you. We’re merely being cautious. See, we investigated you, as we do with all our guests, and we can’t find a single piece of information about you.”

“I didn’t give you a real name.”

“No one does. We use facial recognition software. You can’t hide your face in public these days. Not with all the cameras spying and recording your every move. Except you’ve done exactly that. It’s as if you don’t exist, and that makes you…questionable.”

Luke had fallen out of the system when he ran away from home. When Van abducted him, no one knew he was missing. No one cared. He was as good as dead. After he escaped, he remained dead. He never used his real name. Never had an encounter with the law. When Cole Hartman joined their team, he erased all of the Freedom Fighters from every hidden corner of the Internet and dark web.

None of them existed.

“This shouldn’t surprise you.” Luke squared his shoulders, watching Vera hold her shit together at the center of the pond. “If a man has the means to spend three-million dollars on a slave, he should certainly be able to cover his tracks effectively.”

“Yes, we’ve taken that into account. This is why your assistant is still alive. Once you’ve answered our questions, your property will be returned to you, and your life will resume unmolested.”

“I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.” Fury flushed through his body, hardening his muscles. “Release her.”

“Who do you work for?”

“Myself.”

“What is your business?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Mr. Smith.” Silvia sidled up beside him and stroked his arm. “You can tell us the easy way. Or we can force you the hard way.”

“You think I would choose a girl over the critical confidentiality of my business?”

“A girl you paid three mil for?” Silvia narrowed her eyes. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“You’ve threatened me, and now it’s my turn.” He directed his gaze over her head and met Marco’s eyes. “You can apologize and escort me and my purchase directly to my plane. Or you can suffer the backlash of my exceptionally powerful and ruthless business partners. I’m connected, Marco, deeply and dangerously, and I will turn every magnate within my far-reaching circle against your cartel. You are fucking with the wrong man.”

That much was true. Between Van Quiso, Tiago Badell, and Matias Restrepo, Luke had some brutally violent allies. Add Cole Hartman into the mix, and they were ingloriously, terrifyingly unstoppable. Whether or not he and Vera died tonight, La Rocha would be annihilated. There was no doubt.

Marco stood so still he didn’t seem to be breathing. Only his eyes moved, scouring Luke’s blank expression. Without looking away, he slowly raised an arm and snapped his fingers.

For an asinine moment, Luke thought he’d won.

Until the man in the kayak tossed a lid off a large container and poured the contents atop the dome on Vera’s head.

Luke lost his mind as a cascade of teeming, shiny black bodies glimmered in the spotlight, tumbling down the mesh sides and hitting the water. Vera’s face froze in a silent scream and quickly vanished behind a writhing wall of spiders as they raced back up the dome, climbing over one another to safety.

The kayak jostled, rocking wildly beneath the man’s sudden and frantic attempt