Page 136 of The Auction
He groans, twisting against the rope.
“Where is she?” I demand.
“I don’t?—”
I backhand him. “Don’t start with that.”
He smirks through the blood. “You’ve got nothing, Kane. I made sure of it. No calls, no cards, no GPS. You won’t find her.”
He’s not wrong—there wasn’t much of an electronic trail. Jon knows I’d tear through his life in minutes if he left one.
I glance at Ben. “You ever get information out of someone before?”
Ben’s mouth curves in something that’s not quite a smile. “I have. And I was very good at it.”
“What do you suggest to get him talking fastest?”
Ben doesn’t hesitate. “A finger.”
I hold out my hand. Ben drops a pair of cutters into it. The weight is cold, solid.
I drag the sharp point down Jon’s cheek, slow enough for him to feel every inch of it. The tip bites into his skin, a deep gash that oozes bright red blood.
“I know you sold her to Lord Greville,” I say, voice steady. “I just need to know which property. He’s got too many to waste time guessing—and I’m eager to get my future wife back where she belongs.”
Jon’s eyes flare with something ugly. “Fuck you.” Then he spits—right in my face.
I wipe it off, calm as a priest at confession. “Underestimating the lengths, I’ll go for her is a mistake you won’t make twice.”
Before he can say another word, I take the cutters and snip.
The sound is wet, sharp, final.
Jon screams like an animal caught in a trap. Blood pours over his hand, onto the dirt.
I grab the severed pinky, shove into his mouth, and clamp my hand over his jaw. “Swallow.” I growl, tightening my grip until his teeth sink in.
His eyes roll back as he gags it down, the sound echoing in the stables.
“Now,” I say, leaning close enough for him to feel every word, “let’s try this again. Where the fuck is she?”
He put up a fight—longer than I expected.
Two more fingers—both currently digesting—and a meat hook to the thigh before he finally broke. The moment Ben started pulling it down his leg, tearing through skin, muscle, and tendon like he was dressing out a deer, Jonathan’s resolve crumbled and the words spilled out.
He gave me the location, and I sent it straight to Lucian.
His reply came within seconds:
LUCIAN: He’s on the way.
LUCIAN: You need my jet?
JAXON: Mine’s faster.
But I wasn’t done with my old friend.
I wanted the truth.
