Page 36 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“Anything for you and…” he cuts a glare towards Felix before looking back at me. The words go unspoken, but I know exactly what he means. Anything for me… and anything for the child that might one day carry his name.

I move ahead of the others.The last thing I need is Riggs losing his footing whilst they’re hauling dead weight down a staircase designed in a century where people were apparently half the size they are now. Behind us, the hidden panel slides shut with a heavy, final click, sealing the church above our heads away. By the time we reach the lower corridor, the air has turned colder again.

The dungeon door waits at the end of the passage like a mouth that’s already decided what it’s going to swallow.Victor opens it before we reach it.He doesn’t say a word, just steps aside and lets us pass as his eyes flick down the corridor behind us. Atlas is perched at the metal table with his laptop open. He glances up once as we enter, takes in the unconscious man between Felix and Riggs in a single quick sweep, then drops his gaze back to the screen.

“Nice,” Riggs says breathlessly as he and Felix haul the body through the doorway. “Welcome to the murder room, mate. Hope you like the interior design. We’re going for trauma chic.”

We lower the man onto the floor beneath the chains. His head knocks againstthetile with a clang. Felix straightens, wipes his hands on his jeans like he can’t stand the idea of touching the man for longer than necessary, then glances at me.

“How do you want him?” Felix asks.

“Up,” I respond. “Let’s go for hanging today.”

Victor steps forward to help. He takes the man’s arms and lifts them into position, guiding the limp weight upward before hooking the cuffs into the restraints. Felix mirrors the movement on the other side as the chains scrape and rattle against the iron brackets. Riggs hangs back a step, watching the process with an expression that hovers somewhere between fascination and mild nausea. He cracks his neck once, then winces.

“He’s going to wake up with the worst shoulder ache of his life.”

“I think that’s the least of his concerns,” Victor laughs and Atlas snorts, the sound is brief before his fingers return to the keyboard.

I don’t join them. Instead, I keep watching Riggs.

“Are you good?” I ask, frowning.

Riggs’ head snaps up. “Me?”

“No, the fucking wall,” I shoot back dryly. “Yes, you.”

“Yes…” he says slowly, “why?”

“You’re too…” I cut a glance to Victor who just wears a bemused expression, “Comedic today.”

“Eh,” Riggs shrugs, “I’m just warming up my comedy set. I was thinking, if this whole torture thing doesn’t work out, I could pivot into stand-up.”

We hold each other’s stare before I sigh and turn back to the prisoner. I’m not going to hold a gun to his head and force him to tell me what actually has him acting like this. It’s not my business. The only business I have, is bringing Fae home. As one, we hoist the prisoner up. His toes skim the floor at first, then lift. The chain goes taut as his head drops forward, chin to chest, and his hair falls across his face.His chest rises in uneven bursts,like his body is fighting its way out of the dark. I step to turn the music on and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye’starts to play before I move to the metal tray in the corner. I pull it closer towards me as I line up my instruments.

Riggs watches me, then leans toward Victor.

“He’s nesting. It’s adorable,” he fake whispers.

Victor’s mouth twitches and Atlas laughs without looking up from his screen. A low groan drags out of the man like his throat is packed with gravel. His head lifts slightly before dropping again. His eyelids flutter, struggling to focus under the harsh light, and the slow rattle of the chains echoes through the room.

Felix steps closer.

“Welcome back,” he says, gripping the man’s jaw and tilting his face upward.

The man’s eyes fully open. At first they’re unfocused,glassy with the lingering fog of whatever drug my dad’s men used on him. His gaze then drifts across the ceiling, the iron chains, and the faces standing in front of him. He tests the restraints with a small movement of his arms but they bite immediately, forcing a sharp hiss of pain through his teeth. Panic flashes across his face before he forces it down. His eyes begin jumping from Felix to me, then to Riggs, Victor, Atlas, and back again as if he’s searching for the least dangerous person in the room.

He won’t find one.

“Let’s go easy,” I say, breaking the silence. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t—” he licks his lips as Felix cuts him off with a hard slap across his cheek.

“Don’t,” Felix barks as annoyance twists across his face. “We hate that word. Pick a different one.”

The man’s bladder betrays him before his mouth does. A wet stain blooms across his jeans, darkening the fabric as it drips onto the floor in slow humiliating rivulets.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. That’s going to stink,” Riggs recoils. Victor doesn’t move, but his eyes narrow as disgust flicks across his face.