Hunted

Chapter 6

“Stop lying to me!” Reynolds roared, so loud I couldn’t help but flinch away from him. My sudden scream of pain caught both him and myself off guard as I stumbled back into the force field that held me prisoner.

I fell to the floor, writhing in agony as wave after wave of pain crashed over me. I curled into a ball in a pathetic attempt to get the throbbing to stop. But of course, only time could do that. It was a few minutes later when I could stop my body from shaking, and a few minutes more before I felt stable enough to get up without falling straight back down again.

It was only then that I realised that Reynolds was laughing. No, that was too tame a word. He was practically hysterical, at that point where no sound came out. His eyes showed the first genuine amusement I’d seen from him in years. And it had taken my pain for him to show it.

‘Sick bastard,’ I thought, forcing down the bile that threatened to rise.

“That,” Reynolds said when he’d finally calmed, “was probably the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in years.” He wiped tears from his eyes.

“It’s a weak man who finds happiness in another’s pain,” I panted, only half my attention on Reynolds. The other half was focused on trying to keep myself upright.

“You’re calling me weak?” he asked incredulously. “Says the man who can barely stand up!”

He pushed me lightly, and I went tumbling back into the force field, bouncing off it and crashing into Reynolds. He caught me with ease, laughing as my shrieks started up once more.

I felt like I was being burned alive and frozen solid, all at once. I felt like every fibre of my being was being ripped apart and shredded, the pain repeating over and over again until I was sure my head would explode.

Not showing me any mercy, he kneed me in the balls. The little breath that I’d managed to retain left me in a flash as I slowly slid to the floor, hands splayed out weakly over the wounded area in an attempt to ward off any further attack.

“Since there’s no female, I guess you won’t be needed those now, will you?” he chuckled, crouching next to my trembling frame on the floor. He reached out a hand and gently moved my hair from my sweaty face. It was an effort to keep my eyes open just to watch him do that, and eventually, the struggle became too much. My eyes slid shut.

That was why I didn’t see the punch coming.   

All I knew was that my nose hurt like a bitch, the wetness on my upper lip and the sudden metallic taste in my mouth telling me that he’d drawn blood. Through slitted eyes, I could only watch as his hand twisted in my hair, yanking my head back so he could see my face properly.

“You know, I should really just do the pack a favour and cut out your tongue,” he commented casually, as if we were discussing the weather. “That way, you would never be able to lie to us again.”

I spat the blood from my mouth, aiming for his feet but missing by a few inches. The horrible metallic taste remained in my mouth.

“You think doing this to me makes you powerful?” I croaked, trying to distract him. “You and I both know that you will never be anything but a scared little boy.”

I braced myself for another beating, squeezing my eyes shut. When the blow didn’t come, I cracked open my eyes to see Reynolds staring down at me with an unreadable expression.

“Nice try, Phelps. You think you can trick me into killing you quickly?” He leaned in close to whisper his next words to me, his breath blowing over my face. “Nothing could make me forsake the pleasure of you slowly wasting away at my hand.”