The girl turned her head to look at him, eyes blazing.
“And do you know why that is?” This time, he didn’t wait for a response. “It’s because you are trash.”
At his deep chuckle, a tear slid down the girl’s cheek.
Nina swallowed a hot blast of bile climbing the back of her throat. She’d had no idea the Cipher had recorded what he had done to her. No camera had been visible in her line of sight. Now millions of people were about to watch her torment. Worse than a public execution, it was public defilement. The private anguish she had hidden for years was about to be exposed for the world to see.
And everyone would surely watch.
Just as her team was riveted to the screen now. Just as she was. No one could look away from the horror unfolding in front of them.
The monster entered the screen from the left. Tall and broad shouldered, he dwarfed the slight girl lying on the table like a butterfly pinned to a board. Keeping his back to the camera, he wore a black cloak, a hood pulled over his head.
When he raised his arm, a large hand encased in a blue latex glove extended from the wide sleeve. He bent down to touch the girl’s bare back.
“These are beautiful,” he said. “Still fresh.”
He traced a finger along rows of angry red welts and raw lacerations. “Tell me how it felt when the belt lashed your back.” His voice dropped to an accusatory whisper. “Did you cry?”
The girl said nothing, trying to shrink away from his touch.
“I wish I had been the one to bestow them on you.” He slowly dragged his fingertip down the length of her spine as he spoke, stopping to caress an older pale white scar running crosswise underneath the fresh marks. “But I have my own plans for you. For the rest of your life . . . even if it’s only a few hours . . . you will be mine.”
Nina wanted desperately to turn off the laptop. To slam it shut. But that would be like closing her eyes in the face of a gun pointed directly at her. The bullet wouldn’t stop because she wasn’t watching it penetrate her flesh. It would keep going. Boring into her heart. Tearing her to pieces.
“Do you want mercy?” The voice was smooth, a velvet caress. “Beg me. Perhaps I will take pity on you. You are quite pitiful, after all.”
The memory of that moment flooded through Nina, pulling tears into the corners of her eyes. She knew what came next.
The monster stepped back, the click of a lighter audible in the silence. Then his other hand came into view, a lit cigarette held casually between his fingers.
“P-p-please,” the girl said.
“Oh, no, little throwaway. That’s not nearly enough. Maybe you don’t understand your situation. You need to try harder. Perhaps this will make it clear.”
The man touched the glowing tip to the center of her left shoulder blade. The girl thrashed and screamed.
The screen went blank.
Words appeared in bright white, contrasting with the inky background as before.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, CLICK THE “LIKE” BUTTON. WHEN I RECEIVE 1,000 LIKES, I WILL SHOW THE NEXT 60 SECONDS OF THIS VIDEO.
Every eye in the room swiveled from the screen to Nina. Revulsion was stamped on their shocked faces. She had seen the look before when police officers and social workers inspected her wounds, and she knew what she would see next.
Pity.
Alternating currents of rage and humiliation swept through her. The walls closed in around her. Suffocating her. She had to get out. To escape.
Breck reached out to her with a trembling hand, eyes bright with unshed tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Nina halted her with a raised palm. “Stay away from me.” She glared at the others, shooting to her feet. “All of you, just stay the fuck away from me.”
No one moved. No one spoke.
She flung open the door and bolted from the room.
No one tried to stop her.
Chapter 27
Twelve minutes later, Nina left the locker room at a dead sprint, desperate to escape the claustrophobic confines of the building. Her feet turned toward the trail of their own volition, giving her direction and purpose.
The infamous FBI obstacle course dubbed “the Yellow Brick Road” consisted of 6.1 miles of wooded terrain through the Virginia foothills at Quantico. Anyone who successfully completed the course had to conquer physical and mental challenges along the way.
She leaped over a tree root thrusting up from the ground and kept going, her footfalls varied on the uneven ground. Along the way, she jumped through a simulated window, maneuvered across a cargo net, and splashed through standing water. Then she arrived at the rope climb and gazed up at the jagged stone cliff high above her, calculating. Wrapping her hands around the thick corded rope, she hoisted herself up until she found a toehold in the craggy rocks. She worked her way up, pulling with her arms and pushing with her legs against the sheer rock face until her shoulders and quadriceps burned. When she got close to the edge jutting overhead, she heard a shuffle. She tilted her head back to squint at a looming silhouette peering down at her.
Wade squatted. “You gonna climb up here or not?”
She did not want or need company. “How did you find me?”
“It’s where I would have gone,” he said. “I started at the end of the course and worked my way toward the beginning. Figured I’d run into you sooner or later.”
“Go away.”
“Come up here and let’s talk.”
She put her foot against the rock face and pushed off, using her arms to pull herself higher. “I don’t know what kind of head-shrinking bullshit you’re trying to pull, Wade, but I’m not in the mood.” She grunted as she heaved again. “I don’t need help, and I don’t want company.”
Wade didn’t move.
Cursing, she pushed with her feet and pulled with her hands until every muscle fiber in her arms twitched. When the ridge was only inches above her, she looked into Wade’s eyes again. He could easily reach down and haul her the rest of the way to the top of the outcropping, but he merely watched her.
Maybe he did understand.
She flung an arm up to grasp the ledge above her. Gritting her teeth, she flexed her unwilling biceps until her chest flopped onto the hard surface. After a moment’s breath, she rolled her legs up and over as well.
Still squatting, Wade gazed down at her, an impassive expression on his lined face. “I’m not here to carry you, Guerrera.”
“Leave,” she said, gasping. “Go. The fuck. Away.”
He pointed toward the main building. “I’ll leave if you go back in there with me.”
She sat up. “Why do you care what I do?”
“Because I’m the only other person who wants this guy as bad as you do.”
She let out a derisive snort. “So it’s about you.” She got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her hands. “You’re about to get dragged through the mud again over the Chandra Brown case, and you want to make sure you get the right guy this time.”
When he flinched, she knew her barbed words had found their mark. In her anguish, she had lashed out at the only target that presented itself. She knew it wasn’t right, knew it wasn’t fair, but she had warned him to stay away.
“If that’s what you need to believe.” He stood to face her, a pained expression on his face.