“Now, Bishop, let’s talk about what you took from this business when you decided to conveniently die on us.”
He’d taken absolutely nothing, but over the course of his stay with the mercenaries, he’d come to understand that money had gone missing. And a rather large amount of drugs that would have been sold for more money. With the cartel in chaos, money would be needed for this man to finalize his hold on the organization.
It wouldn’t hurt to be the man who killed John Bishop either. It would give him a bunch of cred, and the Agency wouldn’t even come after him. All in all, it was a good play.
Except he hadn’t been the one to take the money. Of course if they knew that, he would be dead.
“I might be convinced to tell you where I put it.” Lies were the only thing that might give him a chance.
A nasty smile crossed the man’s face. “Yes, I think I’ll find a way to convince you.”
This was where they brought the pain. He’d already had some of it, though he actually thought the drugs were worse. At least with the pain he knew what was happening to him. Every time he woke up from the drugged stupor he’d been in, he had to wonder what they’d done, had to take a personal inventory of all his limbs because the cartel could be brutal.
“And I think I’ll keep my mouth shut for the time being. You know it’s been a long time since I was tortured for information. I wonder how long I’ll last.” He couldn’t give them intel he didn’t have. This was all a play for time. Someone would look for him. Even if Nell didn’t think to call Taggart in, Seth would.
God, he hoped Seth would think to call Ian. He was afraid this was the kind of thing only Ian or Ten or Kayla could help him with.
It struck him that if he hadn’t been forced to reconnect with his old friends, they wouldn’t be able to try to save him. If all of this had gone down the way Henry had hoped—Nell never knowing about his past—he wouldn’t be able to pray someone had called Tag. Tag wouldn’t have known he was alive. Tag and Ten would have gone on with their lives believing John Bishop was a dead man.
Perhaps his wife was right and things always happened for a reason. No one on the planet was better at handling a curve ball than his wife. She might not like the circumstances she found herself in, but she always made it work.
If he died, she would find a way to raise their daughter, to make her strong and loving. She would stay in Bliss and…god, he hoped she found someone who could love her. It was odd because he was a possessive man, but in that moment she was all that mattered. Nell and her beautiful soul, the one who had sat with him in the courtyard of a nudist resort with the snow falling on her hair as she’d shown him there was another way to live. He could still picture her sitting there, her head tilted up and snow on her cheeks as she stared at the stars above and found meaning in them.
And he remembered the look on her face when all her plans had been wrecked and Caleb told her she needed a surgery she’d been desperate to avoid. She’d held his hand and told him everything would be fine. There had been such strength in her.
He wanted her happy, even if he couldn’t be the one to make her happy. But she better pick right the second time around. She better pick a real Bliss man because he would be waiting to share her in the afterlife.
He heard someone coming up from behind and braced himself. The whack to the back of his head actually helped clear it a bit more. He wasn’t a fan of pain, but it had its uses.
“Pay attention, Bishop. I’m going to show you how a real man gets information,” the burly guy said.
The key would be picking his time. He had to wait until the time was right. Some of these guys would get bored and leave. When he was down to two or three, he would attempt to bust out.
Hopefully he would have enough energy to do what he needed to do. Then he would face something worse. He would face the jungle, and he didn’t have any supplies. He didn’t even have a passport or cash.
All that mattered was getting home to his girls.
“This is my friend,” the boss said. “He’s my go-to guy when I need some information. Do you know what it feels like to have your balls tased?”
Ah, they were going straight to the good stuff. “It’s one of my favorite things in life.”
“I was hoping you would say that. It’s so easy to torture a man. Though I’ve found oftentimes a man like you doesn’t respond to pain.” The boss began to pace and the go-to torturer moved to the side where he’d helpfully gathered all his supplies in one place, a wheeled tray. It was good to know he was organized.
“Oh, I assure you, I’ll respond.” He couldn’t not respond. At least he’d given Nell their daughter. He might not be able to manage a sibling after this.
The boss studied him. “I have no doubt we can make you cry like a baby, but that’s not the response I need.”
The more the guy talked, the longer Henry’s balls stayed intact. “I might prove harder, although I am out of practice. Have you ever thought about starting smaller than the balls? You know sometimes it helps to warm a guy up before you go for
