The car whipped around a bend, and Flora’s phone buzzed unexpectedly from her purse. She collected herself, grabbed the phone, and inhaled deeply, gearing up to take the call.
Out of the blue, the phone was yanked from her grasp. Dylan eyed the caller ID and nonchalantly chucked it onto the street. The fading ringtone mingled with honking horns and the crunch of tires, pulverized in an instant.
Flora stuck her head out, but Dylan had already gunned it. She spun to face him, flabbergasted. “Have you lost your nuts?”
Dylan yanked the wheel, veering right, sending Flora crashing into the car door. “Chill out, will you? It’s just a dang phone. I’ll get you a boatload of new ones someday.”
Flora didn’t want to bicker with him. She dropped her gaze, catching sight of the bulge in Dylan’s pocket—his own phone.
“What are you staring at?” Dylan’s eyes trailed hers, and smirking impishly, he twisted the truth.
Flora scrunched her forehead, looked away, and leaned on the window, refusing to chat anymore. Dylan had no shame, she thought to herself.
As the car cruised toward the villa, Flora eyed the familiar structure, a creeping dread inching up from her toes.
She and Dylan had met there twice.
Dylan parked haphazardly in the yard, and with a brawny arm, hooked Flora’s waist, set to head inside.
Flora’s defiance was clear as she shook off his grip. Putting space between them, Flora said, “Thank you for supporting me, but I can walk on my own.”
Stepping into the roomy living room, she hovered by the door, asking, “Where’s the deal?”
Dylan kicked off his shoes and reached for her hand. Flora swatted him away, but he clamped onto her palm even tighter, his grip so fierce she felt her bones shifting.
A cold sweat broke out on Flora’s brow as she snapped, “You’re gonna break my hand.”
“Wouldn’t it be a cinch if you just played nice?” Dylan’s voice was icy, but he eased his grip a bit and steered her to the couch in the center of the room.
Oddly enough, the more she pushed back, the more he craved to quash her defiance.
This felt like a game, an unparalleled rush that fired up Dylan. Maybe when Flora finally caved, he’d grow tired.
“Where’s the stuff?” Flora pressed again.
Dylan let go of her hand and plopped onto the couch. He propped up his legs, shifting until he was totally at ease, then gestured toward a cabinet beside the TV. “It’s in there.”
Flora dashed over, rifling through the cabinet’s contents. “Which one is it?”
There were discs galore; her head spun.
“Why don’t you give them a whirl and find out?” Dylan reclined, snagged an apple from the table, and started peeling.
Flora selected a disc, and after a mere three seconds, a string of data flashed on the TV screen.
She hastily swapped discs, her actions growing more frantic after a few tries. In her rush, discs clattered onto the floor.
Bending down to scoop them up, the scene on the screen above her unfolded. Overblown moans of delight from a woman and the heavy breathing of a man reverberated in the vacant living room.
Flora’s head shot up, her face as red as a lobster. Without a glance, she grabbed a disc from the floor and switched it in.
The scene morphed into an underground parking lot.
Two guys cracked open a dingy brown bag, and the camera closed in on a freaked-out man’s face.
It was Lewis. Flora stayed crouched, her eyes locked on the screen as she nervously followed his every move.
“Who… who are you? What do you want?” Lewis was yelling.
“Chill out. We just want to chat,” one of the guys said, bending down. His tone was gentle, but Flora heard every word crystal clear through the recording. “Our boss wants you to back off and quit stirring the pot.”
Lewis, no stranger to confrontations, shot back, “This is about that lady, right? If you’re smart, you’ll let me go. This is the city hospital’s parking lot, and my crew’s outside.”
The duo chuckled at his words. “This place is safe as our houses. Nobody’s coming…”
Trailing their gaze, Lewis saw the smashed security cameras around them. His courage drained as he begged, “If you let me go… I’ll act like that day never happened. I won’t snitch on her. Just let me go…”
A car horn blared, and one of the men signaled for his buddy to keep an eye on Lewis while he walked off. A slick black Audi sat in the shadows of the parking lot.
Flora couldn’t make out who was inside the car, giving orders to the man, due to the dim light.
When the guy returned, he held two ropes. Lewis, scared out of his wits, stuttered, “Who… who are you? What… do you want?”
“Our boss says punks like you oughta end up in hell,” one man scoffed.
“Let me go! I’m warning you…” Lewis bluffed.
The man tossed the ropes to his partner, and they easily tied up Lewis’s hands and feet. They secured him to a pillar in the parking lot, his body sprawled on the ground.
The Audi in the corner revved its engine and slowly started to move.
Desperation washed over Lewis as he struggled fruitlessly to free himself.
The car tires crept forward, inch by inch. The smell of death loomed closer, enough to make anyone’s blood run cold.
Lewis screamed, his voice cracking, “Help! No—help me!” The fear in his tone seemed to cut through time itself.
Flora shuddered, feeling like she was trapped in a frozen tomb. She hugged her shoulders, her eyes glued to the screen.
The wide tires inched closer…
“Ahhh—”
That scream seemed to shred her eardrums. Flora had never heard such a blood-curdling sound in her life.
The car traveled a short distance before making a U-turn and speeding back the same way.
The scene’s impact was insanely intense. The black car’s hood seemed to charge at Flora, making her legs give out as she crumpled to the floor.
No wonder Lewis had bled so much in the elevator.
Dylan cut the apple into wedges and arranged them on a fruit plate.
The Audi pulled up next to Lewis. The man who stepped out of the back seat had his back to the camera. He kicked Lewis in the face, and seeing that he was unconscious, turned around with a satisfied smirk.
Then, Flora saw Justin’s face. That face was clearly visible, his unique amber eyes hard to duplicate.
Behind him, torrents of blood poured from Lewis’s limbs. The grisly scene Dylan had shown Flora was this very one.
Flora felt as if she could smell the acrid stench of blood again. Unable to hold back, she stumbled toward the bathroom.
She hurled up her dinner, gripping her stomach in pain as she bent over. After rinsing her mouth and splashing her face with cold water, she dragged her weary feet back out.
The TV screen continued to replay the scene. Flora walked over and yanked out the plug. Dylan motioned her over, “Come here.”
She sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, and asked, “What do you want?”
Dylan condescended to sit beside her, bending one knee. “Even I find such savage methods hard to swallow.”
Flora paid him no mind, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Just tell me what you want!”
