Page 85 of Run

As he proceeded to fill Joe in, Abasi signaled him.

“One more piece of information you might want to pass on,” the mobster said.

“What’s that?”

“The name of the person who sold you out.”

* * *

Oh,this isn’t good. This really isn’t good.

This situation was right up there with the time Leia fell into the trash compactor on the Death Star and nearly got crushed to death. It was that level of not good.

Instead of taking Elle to Tommy’s study, where she’d expected to go, his goons had taken her downstairs. They’d walked through the fully stocked wine cellar—which was laughable in itself because Tommy couldn’t taste the difference between white vinegar and a good Chardonnay—until they reached the back wall. One of the guys took a bottle of wine from the shelf.

“None for me, thanks,” Elle said, earning a glare.

He reached into the gap left by the bottle and tapped a code into a keypad. The rack swung outward to reveal a white door, which opened onto a room beyond. Not just any room. This was a sterile, windowless space, decorated in plain white tiling and with a drain in the middle of the concrete floor. Next to that large, ominous drain was a metal chair screwed into the floor. And on the wall behind the chair hung a massive mirror. Two-way? She didn’t think so.

The men led Elle to the chair and shoved her into it. As one divested her of her messenger bag and the laptop inside, the other cuffed her hands behind her, fastening them to the back of the chair. After he was done, he secured her ankles to the chair’s legs. She was completely immobilized. Then, with brutish smiles, they left the room, taking her bag with them and closing the door firmly behind them.

Holy Torture Chamber, Batman!

She was going to die. There was no doubt about it. Everywhere she looked, something new fueled her fear. A heavy-duty hook in the ceiling above her, chains hanging from it in a coil. A stainless-steel bench and sink fitted with a spray nozzle on a hose that could be used for washing down the room. A tall metal cabinet, its glass panels filled with tools and equipment you’d find only in an operating theater. Or an abattoir.

Yeah. She was totally going to die.

Even if David made it in time to rescue her, how would he find her in the super-secret torture room? She’d lived in the house for sixteen years and hadn’t known it was there. Which meant that not only was it designed for easy cleaning, but it was also built with soundproofing. Yet another thing to add to her list of things that were terrifying about her current situation. She was in a room designed to capture her screams.

Had they brought Marcus to this room? Was this where he breathed his last? Had his blood poured into that drain? Only for them to wash it away before they threw him out like trash?

No. She couldn’t think about that.

And she couldn’t think about Ryan either. If he died…

No.

Elle had to concentrate on her current situation. What would Leia do? She’d goad and torment her captors until an opportunity to escape presented itself. Right? She could do that. She knew Tommy’s weak spots. She knew things about his team that even he didn’t know. Surely that would buy her some time.

The door swung open, and the man she’d believed to be her father swaggered in—followed by a smirking Cutter. Her plan was about to be put to the test.

“What did you do with the hard drive, Elle?” Tommy said.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The strike came out of nowhere. A backhand across her cheekbone that happened so fast she didn’t see it coming. Her head snapped to the side as pain burst across her face. Slowly, she turned back to face him.

Cutter was grinning now, malice in his eyes. But Tommy, he looked like he’d just ordered a coffee instead of smacking the woman who was supposed to be his daughter.

“Your laptop’s missing a hard drive,” he said evenly. “A hard drive that’s got all of my fucking information on it. Information you stole with the help of that useless shit I called a son.” He spread his hands. “Now, my hacker people managed to delete the online copies you’d made and move my information to a more secure location. All that’s left is the copy you planned to hand over to the cops. I want it. You’re going to give it to me. It can happen the easy way or the hard way, your choice.”

“I’m guessing both choices come with pain, right? Think I’ll pass. How about a third option? I tell you who’s snitching on you to MI6, and you let me go. How about that?”

Tommy drew back his fist and punched her in the gut. The chair didn’t move an inch as the air was stolen from her lungs. Panic swelled within Elle. She couldn’t breathe. Her diaphragm had stopped working. She gasped for air, but nothing happened. She was going to suffocate to death. In a room full of air. While Cutter laughed.

Suddenly, the muscle spasm passed, and air rushed back into her lungs.

You can take this. You can do it. Even Leia was tortured by Darth. If she can suffer through it, so can you.