Just when Callie thought her horrors for the day were over, she couldn’t be more wrong. Not fifteen minutes from when Raleigh had her seated and strapped into the backseat of his car, Callie found herself witnessing an interrogation. No, not an interrogation, a torture session.
She had asked—begged—over and over for them to stop, but no one listened to her. Even Vin was indifferent.
He sat in an old metal char across Cullen Reich, who was tied to one. Blood caked on his fingers where nails used to sit, fingernails that Z so mercilessly pulled using some ancient-looking contraption.
By the fingernail number three, Callie’s throat was sore and if hurt just to speak. She couldn’t bear to watch someone be tortured for the heck of it. Vin wasn’t even asking questions! Cullen gave away where
