The men dispersed immediately. They marched quickly to the door and out. Vi stayed. Killian hadn’t expected her to leave. But Arlo stayed as well. His gaze kept darting between the envelope and Vi like he couldn’t figure out which one needed his attention more.

“Mr. Cruz.” Frank motioned him to the door.

Arlo actually hesitated. His eyes were on Vi. But he caught himself, tore his gaze away and marched quickly from the room.

Frank shut the door behind him before returning to the desk. He circled to Killian’s side and reached for the CD drive in the tower. It slid open, the gears making a world of noise. Vi shifted closer to Killian, whether for comfort or to get a better view of the monitor as it flickered to life was beyond him. Frank stepped back and the whole room seemed to hold its breath.

Juliette sat in the same metal chair. The concrete wall was behind her. The harsh lights turned her face a fierce white. Her hair was around her shoulders, brushing the stiff material of her green pajama style uniform. She seemed to be waiting for something. Her expression was uncertain and fearful. Her brown eyes darted back and forth at something behind the camera.

“Am … am I supposed to say something?” she asked quietly.

The picture shuddered, but no one answered beyond the rustle of material. There was a thump. The camera was nudged again and then two figures stepped into view to block her. Every line of Killian’s body stiffened. His heart thumped in his chest, loud and panicked as his instinct warned him what was about to happen. Next to him, Vi’s small hand curled sharp little nails into his upper arm. The pain was a welcome change to the numbness creeping up his limbs, paralyzing him from doing a damn thing, except stand there and watch helplessly as Juliette was cornered.

“What are you doing? No! Stop it!”

Scuffling made the image blur. Snippets of light broke through the cracks every time the hulking figures shifted. Occasionally, they could see flashes of Juliette’s arm or head as she fought the hands grabbing her. Then the bodies moved and Juliette was forced between them, each arm restrained out on either side of her. The chair was kicked aside and sent clattering somewhere to the left. Without it, the space was wide enough to jerk Juliette backwards. She was slammed into the concrete wall with enough force to make her cry out. They never released her arms, but held them just over her head.

“Let go!” she snarled, yanking and struggling against the confines. She kicked at one, but missed. “What are you…?”

A third figure stepped into view. Juliette’s eyes widened even as she tensed. Her struggling slowed to panicked jerks. A choked sound rose over the scuffle of feet.

“Been waiting a long time for this,” a male voice drawled with a sickening sort of pleasure.

It was impossible to see in the video with his back to the camera, but there was no mistaking the sound of unfastening jeans, the jingle of a belt buckle being undone and the rustle of fabric. Juliette was no longer struggling, but she had flattened herself as far back into the wall as humanly possible without breaking through to the other side.

“Don’t come near me!” Even to Killian’s ears, the warning was weak and laced with terror. It mirrored the green tinge working up the column of her throat to seep into her cheeks. “Please … don’t…”

Her desperate whimper tore through Killian. It drenched his insides with a molten red rumble of fury that exploded from somewhere deep inside him. It cascaded in an avalanche of rage so intense, he almost screamed.

“Be a good girl and we’ll make this real good for you.”

Juliette was visibly crying now and thrashing. The sound wreaked madness through him. It toyed with his sanity until he was sure he’d never recover.

One of the men cackled, amused by her suffering, by the helpless struggle of her body. The one in the middle reached for the triangle of space where her top had lifted, exposing a sliver of skin. His fingers hooked into the elastic waistband and Killian’s stomach dropped. His vision twisted in a blurry mess of gray. He was vaguely aware of Vi’s quiet sobs at his side. They escalated into blood curdling screams when Juliette’s trousers were forced down and the camera closed to black.

“No!” Vi lunged at the monitor, as though she could somehow reach in and pull her sister out. The screen teetered and tumbled backwards off the desk. It crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces of plastic and glass.

Killian didn’t notice. He couldn’t move or breathe. The whole world had stuffed itself in his chest, a jagged ball of steel and glass. The suffocation nearly sent the floor swaying beneath his feet. He barely managed to grab the desk corner when his vision blurred.

“Killian!” Someone was shaking him. “Do something!” Vi was hysterical. Her pretty face was a blotchy crimson smeared in tears. “Stop them!”

Like some sick joke, his eyes went to the destroyed monitor, his mind replaying Juliette’s screams.

How old was the video? Two, three days? That morning? What state was Juliette in now?

“Get the men.” The voice was his, but he had no idea who was speaking. “We’re going to find her even if we have to burn the fucking city to the ground.”

Chapter 28

All the world’s cold had found its way deep into the marrow of her bones, paralyzing her muscles and making Juliette all but useless sitting huddled in the corner of her cell. It had been hours since they’d dragged her down and dumped her where they’d found her, but her limbs refused to stop shaking. Her heart refused to stop threatening to burst free of her chest. There were tears burning the back of her eyes, but even they refused to fall. All she could do was sit and shiver and try not to think of Alcorn’s hands on her.

“Juliette.” On the other side of the bars, Maraveet sat with her shoulder pressed into Juliette’s. It was all the contact the other woman would give, to which Juliette was eternally grateful. “Tell me what they did.”

Juliette, face buried in the folds of her arms, shook her head rapidly. “They didn’t do anything,” she choked out for the tenth time.

Maraveet exhaled. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Juliette raised her head. “They didn’t do anything,” she repeated. “They started to, I think … I think for the camera…” Her voice warbled. “But they stopped and threw me back down here.”

A soft sound escaped the other woman. It was so quiet Juliette almost didn’t hear it. But it was brimming with relief and dread. Neither had to say it, but they both knew that next time, she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“We’re going to get out of here,” Maraveet promised. “We just need to figure out how.”

The door opened and the soft hiss of air punched into Juliette’s chest. Her arms tightened around her drawn knees and she prayed to God they were only bringing food.

There was no food, just Alcorn with his scuffed boots and smirking mouth. His hands hung at his sides and Juliette flinched at the sight of them. The bits of skin he’d touched throbbed like an agitated burn and she had to resist the urge to rub at the spot.

“Boss wants to see you,” he drawled, peering through the bars at Juliette.

The keys jingled as he found the one and inserted it into the lock. The sound mirrored the wild drumming of Juliette’s heart. Her head snapped towards Maraveet, but the other woman was glowering at Alcorn.

“It amazes me how someone who looks as smart as you would work for a boy,” she said. “But I guess getting paid in lollipops and special favors work best for pedophiles.”

Alcorn was unfazed by the jab. He laughed as he threw open Juliette’s door and stepped inside.

“Do you think I haven’t heard worse?” Shaking his head, he stalked to where Juliette sat and hoisted her up by the arm. “You girls never think of anything new to say.”