Fire Bound (Sea Haven Sisters)(135)

Uri yanked the door open and thrust her inside, the hand on her back hitting her so hard she flew forward and fell to her knees. The rough pavers scraped, ripping her nylons and lacerating her skin. She didn’t try to rise, frozen to the spot, afraid to move. Her body trembled and she wept continuously, the picture of abject despair and misery. She was going for both, and hoped to throw dazed and confused in there as well.



Uri didn’t appear to buy into her innocence. He caught her by her hair and dragged her so that she had to crawl on her hands and knees to the chair bolted to the floor. One shoe came off just inside the door where he’d first pushed her, and the second was ripped off as she crawled. He hauled her up by her hair, slapping her viciously across the face repeatedly.



Lissa raised both hands to try to protect herself, but there was no getting away from his attack. She had to fight her every instinct to attack him, trying desperately to act like an innocent woman caught up in something she had no idea of. She had no weapons on her and that was just as well. She wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from retaliating. She hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to be passive, pleading and sobbing when she wanted to defend herself with every bit of training she had.



He slammed her down into the chair and pointed a finger at her. “You stay there or I swear I’ll cut your throat and be done with it.”



She nodded vigorously, trying to swallow a sob, cowering in the chair, staring at him with frightened eyes. Her face was swelling. She could actually see the bruise rising under her eye. Her cheek throbbed and burned. Her lip was cut and she could feel it swelling. Her fingernails were broken from clawing at his arms, and there was some satisfaction in knowing the scores on his arms and hands were deep.



There were no clocks in the room. She knew Uri would want his prisoner to have no idea of the passing of time, hours or minutes, days or weeks. They would suffer, and time would seem to stretch out endlessly.



Staring like a terrified rabbit, she studied her enemy as he gave out orders to his men. They rushed to do his bidding, leaving behind two men to guard him. When the room was empty, he turned and looked at her. Defensively, she drew her knees up, and put her hands up on top of them as if she could ward him off.



He stared at her for a long while, the cat playing with the cornered mouse, deliberately prolonging the moment, letting her nerves scream in terrified anticipation. “So, Lissa.” His voice had gone gentle. His cold demeanor was far worse than his fury. He walked toward her. “You really need to talk to me. This is your one chance to come clean. I don’t care about your part in this. I just want the shooter. His name. I’m not asking you for anything else. Just his name. This man killed my father.”



She gave a broken sob, staring at him, mesmerized, a canary trapped by a large, hungry cat. She jammed her fist in her mouth to still the sound of her weeping. Her eyes grew bigger as he stalked across the room toward her. When he got close, she threw her hand out as if that flimsy defense could possibly stop him. As she did so, she glanced at her watch. She just had to stay alive a little longer.



Shaking her head, she hunched in on herself. “Don’t hurt me. I swear to you, I came here because you invited me. Before coming here, I was in Germany, at a hotel there, and before that, one of the hotels in Italy. I didn’t do anything. How could I have?” Her trembling voice rose a few notes higher as he closed in on her like a predatory animal.



“Shh.” He put a finger to his lips, his voice pitched low. Very soft.



Lissa covered her mouth with her hand as if that was the only way she could be assured she obeyed his orders exactly. She didn’t take her eyes from him as he stepped very, very close to her.



Bending, Uri put a hand on either armrest, leaning into her. “Take a breath, Lissa. I want you to think about this for a moment. Can you do that? Think about what I tell you before you answer me?”



So reasonable. So quiet. Keeping her hand pressed to her mouth, she nodded her head vigorously up and down. Her hair, already coming out of the loose weave, spilled down around her face in long red sheets.



“The Prakenskiis are killers. Every last one of them. It seems strange that you come from a very small town all the way to my country and you know one of these killers. You just happen to be from the same little town.”



She kept nodding her head, never taking her gaze from his, as if hypnotized by him. More tears fell, but they were silent, as if she didn’t dare weep aloud. She didn’t lift a hand to wipe them away. Her face was a mask of terror. Dark mascara trickled down her face along with her tears.