Henderson's men dragged Derek to his feet. His face was already swelling, blood dripping from his mouth.
"Please," Derek begged. "Please, I'll get the money. Just give me more time—"
"Time's up." Henderson pulled out a knife. The blade gleamed under the living room lights. "I think we'll start with fingers. One for every five thousand you're short."
Derek started screaming. High-pitched, terrified screams that didn't even sound human.
Margaret was sobbing on the floor. "Please don't hurt my son! Please!"
Diana crawled over to Marcus, who was still lying on the carpet, blood covering the lower half of his face. "Marcus," she whispered. "Marcus, are you okay?"
His eyes shifted to her. He nodded slightly but didn't get up.
"Why didn't you fight back?" Diana asked desperately.
Marcus j
