Page 57 of Scar Tissue

I lunge forward, the clots that had formed at my wrists busting open as the chair’s restraints dig into me again. I would tear myfucking arms off it meant I could get to him. “What. Did. You. Do?” The words scrape out of my throat.

Harrison doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he walks slowly around the small room, glancing at the cracked concrete walls like he’s admiring the architecture. “Pain is fascinating,” he says as if we’re having a casual conversation. “Some people break immediately. Others hold out longer than you’d expect. You’ve both exceeded my expectations.”

“You’re a dead man.”

“Yes, I hear that quite a lot.”

A sound carries faintly through the crack beneath the door that separates Thea and I. A broken gasp. My stomach twists so violently it makes me dizzy. “You touch her again and I swear to god?—”

“To God?” Harrison interrupts. “If you think God is anywhere near a place like this, Nathan, you’re even more naive than I thought.”

“I will kill you. You’re a coward. Hiding behind a locked door because you know the second I get my hands on you?—”

He laughs. Amused. Not offended. “Oh, I’m not hiding.”

He steps closer instead, the overhead light catching the dark stains across the sleeves of his shirt. My vision narrows on it instantly; it’s blurry but I can make it out. Blood. Her blood. My chest splinters.

“You’re hurting someone who can’t fight back,” I continue, my voice shaking with fury now. “Someone who walked in here unarmed.”

“Oh spare me, Nathan. She’s not as helpless or as harmless as you’re making her out to be. She knew exactly what she was doing. Sure, she’s unarmed physically, but mentally? She is remarkably resilient.” He clicks his tongue. “You know, I want to believe what she told me is the truth, but I do think she’s trying to misdirect me all the same. Very clever, actually. Claimed that you two got a tip off from someone within my agency.” I don’t react. I don’t breathe. “Unfortunately, until I can verify that information, we’re at an impasse.”

“If you go back in there?—”

“What?” he asks mildly.

I stare at him.

“Oh, don’t tell me again. Let me guess, you’ll kill me?”

My voice comes out colder than I expect, but I’d tell him as many times as possible until it became true. “Yes.”

“You see, that’s the problem,” he says. “You’re both very committed to protecting someone. You”—he nods toward the door—“refuse to talk because you’re trying to protect her.” His gaze sharpens. “And she refuses to talk because she’s trying to protect someone else.”

My pulse stutters. “I only refuse to talk because you told me you wouldn’t touch her if I did. Something you did before you even gave me the chance.”

“I simply changed my mind.” He lifts his chin. “You gave me your word.”

“My word was contingent on cooperation. You’re still breathing, however, which I’d say is a fair exchange. The reality of the situation is that pain clarifies priorities, and yours have become painstakingly clear. Eventually, everyone decides what matters most.”

My throat tights. “You think I’m going to break.”

“I think—” He tuts. “You already are.”

The silence stretches between us as he reaches for the handle. My heart lurches violently. “Don’t.”

He glances back. “You have something to say?” he asks.

Another faint sound leaks beneath the door, barely there, and just before real fear claws its way up my throat, a distant gunshot cracks somewhere in the building.

Then another, and another. Shooting erupts from down the hallway and Harrison’s head tilts slightly. He almost looks…amused.

“Well, just when I thought the night couldn’t get more interesting, it stands that I was mistaken. If you’ll excuse me.” Hestraightens his suit and walks out the door into the hallway, acting as if he’s immortal, and a part of me can only hope he gets stuck in the crossfire, even though I want to be the one to put a bullet in his brain.

The noise only continues to intensify as Harrison’s guards yell orders, and what sounds like guests in the main venue area begin to panic. The guard that was in Thea’s room exits and doesn’t spare a glance in my direction as he exits the room as well. Curse these fucking shackles. If only I could get to her this would be the perfect opportunity to get us out. Despite that ultimately being Fletcher’s plan, he is still only one man, and while I don’t doubt his ability after everything we went through for Dylan, no single situation is the same.

Another shot echoes this time, ricocheting down the hallway. More shouts as several pairs of boots thunder past the doorway. A body slams into the wall. I test the shackles again, slower this time even though I know it’s no use. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath just as a painful howl sounds from the other side of the door, followed by a slurry of words I can’t comprehend and retreating footsteps as they rush back in the opposite direction. The silence is sudden. More startling than the chaos that occurred just moments before.

I freeze, every muscle going rigid as the door handle shakes once, twice, before the door swings open. It takes a moment for my eyesight to adjust to the individual standing on the other side of the doorway due to my injury, and temporarily I think that Fletcher must have failed. But just as the thought enters my mind, I recognize the low resonance of his voice as he says, “Miss me?”