Page 114 of Heartless Sinner

I fought against the fingers holding my eyes open.

The bat came down, and Sinclair stopped moving.

My stomach twisted as Brooks’s warning came rushing back.

“Whoever did this will bleed for it.”

He’d meant it.

Blood covered Brooks’s mask when he faced me. He wiped a hand through the blood before walking toward the glass.

Slowly, he smeared Sinclair’s blood across it.

One curved line. Then another.

A heart.

He pointed the bat at me. “Your turn.”

Twenty-Eight

Daphne

The Son restraining me let go.

I kept my eyes locked on the TV, refusing to look through the blood-smeared glass again.

Sinclair was dead. I knew that.

“Kenward!” a raspy voice yelled through the TV speakers, sounding like a man who smoked two packs a day. “To your cell now!”

The camera angle shifted, zooming in on the man gripping the shank before moving higher.

Oh my God.

That wasn’t another prisoner.

It was the freaking guard.

The camera followed him as he headed straight for my dad, and I threw myself toward the TV like there was some way I could reach through the screen and drag my father out of there.

Dad turned, suspicion creasing his forehead. “This early? We haven’t had rec yet.”

“Early bedtime.” The guard shrugged. “Boss’s orders.”

Dad hesitated but stepped toward the cell anyway. It wasn’t like he had much choice.

“No!” I slammed my palms against the TV. “Don’t do it, Dad! Don’t go in there!”

The masked man behind me chuckled. “Don’t waste your breath.”

I wanted to turn around and punch him. Kick him in the balls. Tear off his mask and shove both thumbs into his eye sockets and keep pushing until he was the one screaming for help.

Tears blurred Dad into a watery shape as he entered his cell.

The guard shoved Dad farther inside and struck. Dad doubled over, clutching his side.

Not a punch.