Deep down, Olivia had always known Jake would never intentionally hurt her, yet, she’d thrown his betrayal in his face as if he’d done just that.
She’d let her anger and hurt feelings cloud what she knew to be true about the man she loved. And now she was going to die because of it.
A small whimper escaped before she could stop it.
“Ah, so you are awake,” Cetro said, sounding pleased.
Olivia opened her eyes—no sense in pretending any longer—and found him standing a few feet away.
“Good. The show may begin.”
The show? What the hell was he talking about? Unfortunately, Olivia didn’t have to wait long for her answer.
Cetro turned back and moved toward a tripod that hadn’t been there when she’d first come into the barn. Atop the metal legs sat a small video camera. Cetro reached up, pushed a button.
A tiny green light appeared. He was going to record her death? Jesus, he was even crazier than she thought.
Olivia knew she had to keep him talking, needing to buy as much time as she could. Even though she’d ordered Jake to stay away, eventually someone would realize she was gone.
Maybe Mac or Trevor would try to call or come by. They’d been so good about checking on her the past three days. Surely, they’d figure it all out.
The only question was, would it be in time to rescue her, or simply recover her body? Surprisingly, the question pissed her off more than it saddened her. Which meant her mouth took on a life of its own.
“What’s the camera for, Javi? Is that the only way you can your jollies? Can’t get off without watching yourself torture an innocent woman?”
Cetro stormed back to her, his hand moved lightning-fast. The skin covering her cheek burned from the blow and her eyes watered, but Olivia refused to cry. She would see him in hell before giving him that satisfaction, again.
The bastard actually smiled at her before turning back to the camera. “The camera will record your full confession.”
Confession? “And what exactly am I supposed to be confessing to?”
He faced her again. When he spoke this time, his accent was even more prominent. It was as if his voice and his soul—if he’d actually had a soul—had both turned to stone.
“You will admit you killed my brother.”
Olivia was unable to hide her surprise. Eyes wide, her voice rose at least an octave.
“What? I tried to save your brother. I didn’t kill him!”
Ignoring her outburst, Cetro said, “My brother is dead because of you.” His disgust for her was impossible to miss, and his next words dripped with sarcasm.
“Poor Olivia Bradshaw. America’s sweetheart. A helpless woman who miraculously came back from the dead after such a tragic ordeal.”
With crazed eyes, he stepped even closer to her, nearly spitting out his next words. “You are nothing more than a deceitful, murdering bitch! You may have fooled the rest of the world, but you do not fool me. You allowed a fourteen year-old boy to die. I know the truth.” He glanced back over his shoulder toward the camera. “And soon every news station in the world will, too.”
Oh, shit. He was going to try to torture a confession out of her, then send the recording to the news. Everyone she knew would see it. Jake will see it.
Even if Cetro stayed true to his word and didn’t physically go after Jake, this alone—having to watch her torture and subsequent death—would kill him just the same.
“No!” Olivia screamed, fighting uselessly against her restraints.
She ignored the fire in her shoulders and the God-awful pain in her wrist. That didn’t matter now. She had to protect Jake.
“You sonofabitch! We had a deal! You said this would end here. You said you’d leave Jake alone. You can’t show him this! You can’t—”
Cetro tsked, then spoke as if he were explaining something to a small child. “Actually, what I said was that I wouldn’t hunt him and the members of his team down. He deserves to know the truth about the woman he was sleeping with, yes?”
Olivia looked him straight in his beady little eyes, not even trying to hold back her true feelings.
“You’re nothing but a sick, twisted freak! It doesn’t matter what you do to me. Nothing will change the fact that I didn’t kill your brother!”
Olivia watched as he walked over to a table positioned up against one wall of the barn. From it, he picked something up, but it was only when he turned back around that she realized what it was.
Her heart raced dangerously fast, her breaths changing to rapid pants.
She tried to remain calm. To not show her fear. But the black, leather whip now in Cetro’s hand made it impossible.
To keep from screaming, Olivia bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. While he’d held her captive, she’d witnessed first-hand the kind of horror this monster was about to bestow upon her.
As much as she wanted to be, Olivia didn’t know if she was strong enough to take it.
Walking behind her, Cetro began talking as though he were addressing an audience. He spoke of the injustice his brother had suffered. Ranted on and on about the pain his young sibling had felt, and the slow, agonizing death he’d been forced to endure.
All—according to him—because of her.
Olivia’s entire body tensed when she felt a tug on the back of her scrub top, followed by more pulling, and then a ripping sound.
Cool air hit the newly-exposed skin on her back. He continued to cut until her top was nothing more than a pile of shredded material on the ground near her feet.
Wearing nothing on top now but her bra, Olivia wondered if she would pass out from fear before the true torture began. Oh, God. Please don’t let him do this.
Nearly hyperventilating now, her heart slammed against the inner walls of her chest as if it, too, were trying to escape the heinous actions of a madman.
“Are you ready to admit
