Collateral

By H.M. Hall

Is it worth it? When you've spent so many years hiding in the shadows, it's disarming when the personification of sunlight is forced upon you. Years spent purposely eclipsed by the darkness without ever wanting to step out from beneath the safety of its cloak; driven by the same goal I've had since I was fifteen years old. Until my fourteen year

• Language: English
• Publisher: H.M. Hall
• Release date: Nov 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9781805413271

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Collateral

Collateral

Stick to the shadows where it’s safe

H.M. Hall

CONTENT WARNING:

This book contains dark content that may be triggering to some readers, such as human trafficking, graphic violence, discussion of sexual assault (no on-page scenes), knife play and explicit sexual situations. There is also the discussion of suicide, miscarriage and hysterectomy.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 by H. M. Hall

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, contact: [e-mail]

First paperback edition

Book design by Publishing Push

978-1-80541-326-4 (paperback)

978-1-80541-327-1 (eBook)

Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?

– Friedrich Nietzsche

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Epilogue

Prologue

Demi

My back aches from lying on the makeshift bed of broken pallets and tattered blankets, though it doesn’t do much to distract from the chronic cramping pain in my stomach, but it’s still an improvement from the hovel we were cooped up in before we were moved.

There’s a rotten stench of body odour and cigarettes in the air, filtering through the thin gaps in the rusted metal shipping container we’re locked in. If it weren’t for those holes, I’m sure we would have run out of oxygen by now.

My lips are so dry from dehydration they’re splitting with the slightest movement of my mouth, which isn’t very much because we get beaten if they hear us talking to each other.

My twin sister, Thea, is lying with her back to me, her shoulders shaking with hushed sobs. She’s so thin, her spine is protruding beneath her tattered, blood-stained T-shirt that was once white but is now a filthy mixture of red and brown. She’s cried so much, I don’t know how she has any tears left.

I stopped crying a while ago. How long ago exactly, I have no idea. I don’t even know how long we’ve been gone for. I tried to keep track of the days but it became difficult with the location changes and the drug injections which knock us out for unknown amounts of time.

The dried blood on my chin itches, scratching it with my broken nails forces me to wince at the soreness of my fingertips. I managed to sleep for a few hours last night after being punched by one of the men for not looking up at him when he spoke to me, resulting in one of my front teeth coming loose in my mouth. The pain of which resonates through my upper jaw whenever my tongue nudges the wobbly tooth.

The main monster is not going to be pleased when he notices; it’s just a stomach-churning toss-up whether he takes his anger out on his men or me.

One of the other girls, Nina, is sitting in the corner of the room, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth while staring at the same spot on the floor; tears, snot and blood marring her face. She was taken out of the container last night before I was knocked out but was back in here when I woke up, and she hasn’t come out of the trance she’s been locked in ever since.

I think if I hadn’t refused to look at the disgusting pig of a man, it would have been me leaving the group for a seeing to, as they call it.

It’s clear that the other five girls’ spirits have been broken—especially Thea’s. When she gets taken away, her screams are the loudest and most desperate. It’s traumatising enough having to go through the events myself, but having to listen to her go through it too is just as, if not more, painful. For that reason, I try to keep as quiet as possible when it’s my turn so it doesn’t agonise her like it does when I hear her.

That’s why I’ve had to fight for the both of us. I know she’s given up already but I’m holding onto the hope that we will find a way out of here. I refuse to give up and die in this hellhole.

The slamming of a door from somewhere outside has us all jumping and gasping like skittish cats. The sound of unintelligible shouting voices followed by gun fire explodes around us, causing us to scream out in terror.

Thea’s eyes are bulging wide with shock and her bottom lip trembles uncontrollably as she scurries over to me. She wraps her skeletal arms around my waist and clings to me with her face pressed into my chest and her eyes squeezed shut.

I hug her to me and hold her as tight as possible while the sound of bullets ricocheting off the container housing us rings out all around. I’m surprised they aren’t breaking through the rusted metal and putting us out of our godforsaken misery.

The other girls have huddled around us so we’re all packed into a corner; whimpers and shrieks come from them as the warfare continues to rage on outside. Men yell out in inaudible foreign languages before being silenced by a gunshot. It feels like it goes on forever before the firing stops and the room dissolves into nothingness, aside from the sound of the girls snivelling and weeping.

Get the container open, I hear a man call out, though this one doesn’t have an accent like the men we’ve been held captive by.

Thea sobs harder into my chest when the footsteps grow louder as the intruders close in on our location. My body shivers as I hold my breath, my eyes focused on the door as the stiff lock groans when it’s unlatched.

Blinding flashlights flood into the room as the door is yanked open with a loud creak, causing us all to cover our eyes and squint as the lights assault our hypersensitive senses after being kept in the dark for so long.

We found them, a female voice announces.

Thank God, get them out and back to us right away, another voice says through a radio.

The woman slowly steps into the box, holstering her gun and pointing her light to the ceiling as she holds her arms out with her palms flat to us.

It’s okay, you’re all safe now. We’re not going to hurt you. We’re here to get you out, she tells us in a butter-like voice that blankets the bleak and desolate room with warmth.

One by one, the unexpected duo help the other girls to their feet and assist them out, though Nina continues rocking in the corner and has to be carried away by the man as her legs are too weak.

The woman moves towards Thea and I, still embracing each other, tremors racking over her body as her scrawny limbs latch onto me like I’m her life support and if we break contact, she’ll flatline immediately.

Hey, hey, it’s okay. Let’s get you out of here, the woman soothes quietly as she crouches down in front of us. She’s backlit by the lights behind her so I can’t make out her features, but there’s a palpable compassion radiating from her that has my instincts telling me to trust her.

Come on, Thea, I croak, my voice hoarse from the lack of moisture.

I begin to stand on shaky legs as the pain in my stomach intensifies with every movement, using what little strength I have to hoist her up with me while she clings to my midriff. We shuffle our emaciated bodies out of the container and into the dilapidated warehouse, the bloodied bodies of our captures strewn across the floor where they’ve been shot dead. I hold my sister’s head close to my chest, shielding her eyes from the massacre around us; she doesn’t need any more nightmare fuel than she already has.

For me though, the sight of their lifeless bodies sparks a feeling I haven’t felt since we’ve been captive. One corner of my cracked mouth tilts up ever so slightly as I take in the scene around me while we make our way to the black van waiting for us, where the other girls are wrapped in thick blankets with bottles of water.

It’s not the fact we’ve been rescued by two unknown heroes that is stoking the fire in my stomach, nor is seeing my sister and fellow prisoners finally getting the care we so desperately need.

It’s seeing those immoral, vile excuses of human beings lying in pools of their own blood, with all life drained from their soulless eyes, their cruel hands never to inflict their sadistic violence on another helpless victim ever again.

That is what gives me satisfaction.

Chapter 1

Demi

The blood washes off my body and mixes with the water to create a pink marbling effect as it swirls down the drain. I go through the motions of lathering my hair and body until all of the impurities are washed away.

I wrap my hair in the plush towel and clear the steam from the mirror, revealing my vacant reflection staring back at me. The fucker managed to land a hit to my face before I plunged my knife into his throat, resulting in the addition of a lovely split to my swollen lip.

A snarl creeps onto my face as I think about the sorry excuse of a man I had the pleasure of despatching earlier today. He’d been involved in the kidnapping of three girls last week, and thanks to their piss poor security measures in place for communicating with the people he handed them over to, we managed to locate not only him, but where the girls are currently being held too.

You’d think they’d be more vigilant considering the fact they’re trafficking human beings, not selling a used couch on Craigslist.

Not that I’m complaining, it makes my job easier when they’re mindless imbeciles.

I finish drying myself and scrunch my hair dry with the towel before wrapping it around my body and exiting the bathroom. I grab my phone from the bed and hit call on Charlie’s number.

I’ve already booked your flight, you’re leaving tomorrow morning at nine thirty, he answers without bothering with the formalities of a hello, how are you?

Great, thanks. Am I picking up a car from the airport?

Uh-yeah. About that… He clears his throat before continuing, You’re being picked up from the airport.

My brows knit together and my nose wrinkles. What? Why do I need picking up? I don’t need a fucking chauffeur.

He’s quiet for a beat, a dead giveaway that whatever news he has he’s apprehensive to tell me. Even though Charlie and I have never actually met in person, we’ve learnt to understand each other’s reactions and attitudes over the phone. I already feel like I know him as much as I need to, meeting him would only put a face to the voice, and I honestly couldn’t care less to know what my handler looks like.

I arch my brow as if he can see the gesture through the phone as I wait for him to spit it out.

Your partner will collect you from the airport.

Pardon?

Your… partner… will pick you up.

I scoff and laugh incredulously, the sound slightly unhinged. You’ve got to be kidding me. Why the fuck do I need a partner? I’ve done all the legwork to this point and now all of a sudden I need help? Is this a joke?

Afraid not, Dem. They’re expecting multiple girls to extract, hence the partner. I’ve background checked him though, I’m sure you’ll get on just fine. I can hear the hint of humour in his voice when he says that, meaning we will not, in fact, get on just fine.

I firmly rub my hand over the back of my neck and sigh into the speaker. Him? For fuck’s sake, Charlie, you really know how to piss me off. Maybe I should consider retiring.

Charlie snorts at my comment while I lie on the bed and rub my fist into my eye until I see stars, drawing in a levelling breath before continuing.

Go on then, tell me what you know.

I plop down onto the bed, still wrapped in my towel with my wet, unbrushed hair dampening the pillow.

Taner Tekeli, twenty-eight. Born in Beaumont, Texas, to parents Hasad Tekeli and Jennifer Lockton. Joined the Marines at eighteen for six years and started working for The Corp after he was discharged from the military.

So, he’s worked for us for four years? Are you shitting me? Is this some kind of babysitting mission? I snap, the anger bubbling inside of me cranking up the dial of my body temperature and deepening the crease between my brows.

His stats are good. Great, actually. After four tours of Afghanistan, he’s well decorated with medals. Even got a Prisoner of War Medal.

Oh, goodie. A traumatised rookie to take care of. How exciting! My tone drips with sarcasm, which has Charlie sniggering at me. What if I refuse? I don’t have to work with him.

He sighs heavily, like he expected this to be my response and has already tried to find a solution. It’s come from the powers above, so yeah, you kinda do. Look, just get in there, complete the job and rescue the girls. Focus on the main objective.

I know it’s not his fault I’ve been forced into this but I tend to unload my anger onto whoever’s closest, which usually tends to be Charlie. He’s been my handler for the past six years so he’s well versed with me and my temper by now, and I plan on keeping him until I finally hang up my holsters. Change isn’t something I take kindly to; I’ve spent so long fighting it off, it’s no surprise my arms are still swinging at the mention of an adjustment to the well-oiled programme I’ve worked with for over a decade.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, frustration swirling in my chest as I internally admit defeat. Fine. But this is for one mission and one mission only. I’ve worked alone for twelve years, I’m not about to start worrying about a partner now.

Besides my two years of training where I had to shadow my superior, Heather, I’ve worked every single task and mission alone since then. And I don’t intend to start making a habit out of it now.

Hey, I’m just the messenger following orders from the powers that be. I’ll leave you to prepare for your flight. Night, Dem.

I roll my eyes at his deflection. This is why he sits behind the computers and isn’t out in the field like me. He’s such a pacifist when it comes to confrontation, though he happily works for a corporation of bloodthirsty mercenaries hunting the most evil and depraved creatures in the country. Go figure.

Yeah, whatever. Call you when I get there. Night, asshole.

I drop the phone onto the bed and roll over onto my stomach, shoving my face into the lush pillow and letting out my indignation with a long, muffled groan.

Just think about the girls. They need your help.

So, that’s what I do. I blow dry my hair and pull it back into a low bun, pack my things into my cabin bag and grab a burger from a nearby takeout before getting into bed for what remains of the night.

It’s just for one mission, and it’s for the benefit of the girls.

decorative

That flight was horrendous.

Not one, not two, but three screaming babies for the whole hour and forty minutes. The most annoying part? They stopped crying the moment we touched down. Pair them with the dude in front of me that decided to recline his seat and the woman next to me that had Taylor Swift playing so loudly through her headphones I’m surprised she hadn’t made herself deaf, et voilà, my already bitter mood has taken a nosedive.

If this is an omen for what’s to come on this little trip, I’m fucked.

Luckily, I only have my rucksack so I don’t have to wait at baggage claim and I quickly escape the bustling airport and stand at the arrivals pick-up area.

I don’t even have my so-called partner’s contact details, so my only option is to call Charlie and ask for a description of the car or person I’m looking for.

I’m standing here like a dick, Charlie. Where is he? I bark, my patience shaved down paper thin at this point.

I hear his fingers hammering against his keyboard in the background as he answers. Should be in a black SUV. His handler told me he was already waiting for you. Hold on, let me get Logan on the line to check where he is.

I scan over the traffic in search of said SUV when my eyes snap to the parked car over the road. Even though he’s wearing aviators, I can tell his eyes are locked onto me. The corner of his mouth curves into an ominous smirk as I glare back at him with my phone still pressed to my ear.

Found him, I grunt to Charlie, who’s still tapping loudly on his keyboard.

Play nice, Dem. Remember you’re on the same team.

I end the call and pocket my phone as I cross the road, marching over to the smirking schmuck I’ve had the displeasure of being forced into partnership with. My boots stomp over the tarmac as my annoyance spawns with each step until I reach the passenger door and sling it open, hoisting myself in without even a sideways glance in his direction. I fasten my seatbelt and stare straight ahead, waiting for him to start the engine and drive away.

A few moments pass while we both sit in silence and he hasn’t even moved to turn the key yet, but I can feel his eyes boring into my cheek, causing a flush of irritation to creep over my skin. My frustration swells with each wasted second we sit here while he ogles the side of my head.

After what feels like minutes but is more like less than fifteen seconds, I’ve had enough of whatever this is and turn to look at him, my face moulded into a deep scowl. What are you waiting for?

He stares back at me, that same pompous smirk still there, and holds out a sizeable hand in my direction. We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Taner.

I know, I snap, keeping my hands firmly tucked into my jacket pockets.

His gaze remains locked onto me with his hand still held out, waiting for me to return the handshake. And that fucking smirk.

The longer we sit here wasting time with formalities, the less time we have to prepare, I bite out with a stony expression, the aggravation gnawing away at the tiny shreds of tolerance I have left.

He blows out an amused chuckle, the sound deep and gravelly, as he finally retracts his hand. He starts the engine, pulls out of the airport parking lot and begins the drive to our base location.

We sit in silence for twenty minutes as he drives down the highway and I’m glad for the peace and quiet after that flight sent me into a sensory overload. I’ve been frowning so hard I’ve given myself a headache. Leaning onto the door, I rub the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger to try to push away the dull ache.

Just get the girls out. That’s all we’re here for.

Rough flight? Taner asks with a glance in my direction.

I keep my eyes closed and release a deep breath. We don’t need to bother with small talk. I’m happy with the silence.

Another rumble of laughter comes from his chest and I chance a peek at him without moving my head to give myself away. His jawline is sharp and angular beneath a smattering of dark stubble that looks to have been preened precisely. He’s still wearing his sunglasses but I notice his thick lashes through the gap at the side. His dark chocolate hair is clipped short on the back and sides with tousled loose curls on top, the colour perfectly complementing his olive skin. And though I’ve only seen him sitting behind the wheel of the car, he’s clearly of considerable stature by the way his broad frame fills the seat.

Are you going to stare at me the whole journey? he asks with an air of arrogance about him without taking his eyes off the road ahead.

I swear I’m going to wipe that smirk right off his pretty little face by the end of this trip.

I scoff and deny him a reply. The sooner I get out of this confined space and away from him, the better. We might have to complete the mission together but I’m not going to spend a second more than I have to with him.

I’m stuck in the car for another twenty minutes until we reach the base location. An old red brick warehouse that’s four storeys high with a metal staircase zigzagging from the ground to the roof, the front of which is covered in weathered paint that would have once identified the company that previously owned the building, but is now illegible and only serves to leave a decayed layer on the bricks. Completely inconspicuous as to what it contains inside, just like all of The Corp’s bases.

We enter the building through a side door that leads us into a small, black walled lobby with a concrete floor where we’re greeted by the host, Caleb, a guy I’ve come across a few times in the past. He’s a tall and lean blonde James Bond-looking guy in black suit pants and a white dress shirt with the top two buttons left undone, offering a glimpse of his toned, golden chest.

Demi, Taner. He nods at us both, an air of ostentation about him. Good to have you with us. Your rooms are on the top floor. The armoury is on the first floor, feel free to help yourselves. Demi, you’re in room C and Taner, you’re in room D.

I nod back to him with a thanks as I pass by and head to the solid black door at the end of the hall that has an eye scanner installed in the wall beside it. I level my face with the red dot, prompting the laser to scan over my russet brown iris and identify me with a high-pitched chime as the door slides open to allow me entry. It immediately slides shut behind me, separating me from my forced upon companion for a few sweet seconds until sliding open again to allow him entry.

If only the universe could’ve just thrown me a bone and made that door malfunction to give me a short reprieve. Unfortunately, killing people for a living, no matter how nefarious those people are, doesn’t reward me with much good karma.

The elevator doors open to reveal a tiny mirrored cube, barely big enough for two people. I roll my eyes to myself, cursing under my breath at my shit luck today.

We both step inside. I push the number three button and wait for the doors to close us in. Our only option is to stand one in front of the other, me being behind Taner as I entered the lift first. I’m forced to take in his sizable height and build seeing as I’m physically confined into the corner.

He must be almost a foot taller than me, and I’m not exactly short at five-foot-eight. His light blue denim jacket shrouds the top half of his body atop of a burgundy hoodie, his broad shoulders almost filling the width of the elevator.

Staring again, are we? he asks and I can hear that goddamn smirk in his voice.

Don’t have much choice to look elsewhere when you’re taking up all the room, I spit, scowl sitting firmly on my face.

His shoulders bob slightly as I hear him breathe out a chuckle through his nose.

Prick.

The doors finally open with a ding and I practically barge him out of the way to escape, grateful for the open space to relieve my nose from his pungent citrus and spice fragrance.

There’s only two doors up here, one on each side of the hallway with their respective C and D cast iron letters fixed to their centres. There’s another eye scanner installed beside both doors, hence the lack of keys from Caleb.

I wordlessly stride towards my room, scan my eye and slam the door behind me without so much as a backwards glance. I drop my rucksack onto the floor and stretch my back with a heavy sigh, grateful to have about seven hours of peace and quiet to myself before I’m forced to take on the role of babysitter-slash-mercenary.

The interior of the apartment matches the rest of the building, with greys and blacks and a sleek, minimalist kitchen to my right that opens out into a living area consisting of a black leather couch, a glass coffee table and an oversized flatscreen TV mounted onto the exposed brick wall that spans across the entire back of the apartment. It’s clinically contemporary but all finished to a high standard, no expenses spared by The Corp for these swanky mercenary hotels.

I spot the coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen and say a silent thank you to whichever favourable individual decided to provide us with a Nespresso machine, complete with an array of different flavoured pods. I pick the first one my fingers land on and wait for the machine to work its magic before settling on the leather couch with my coffee in one hand and my phone in the other.

I click onto my call history and just as I’m about to tap Charlie’s number, a knock at the door interrupts me.

Who is it? I shout from the sofa. Seriously, I literally just sat down for a minute’s peace.

Taner. His deep timbre resounds through the door.

I tip my head back over the top of the couch with a growl and shout back through gritted teeth. I’m busy!

Give me a fucking break.

I’m not leaving until you open the door. Even though I can’t see him, I just know he’s got that cocky as shit look on his face.

I take a slow sip of coffee before responding. You’ll be standing there for a long while then.

The silence falls around me once again, my lips tipping up into a triumphant smile as I close my eyes and bask in the stillness. He must have a hint of sense inside that skull to get the message and leave me alone.

No more than five seconds later, the knocking restarts. Only this time he doesn’t just knock once, oh no, he’s constantly thumping his knuckles against the door like an incessant child.

Anger ripples through me as my face scrunches into a foul expression, slamming my coffee and phone onto the glass table with a loud clang before storming to the door. I hope there’s no one staying in the apartment below because my footsteps are booming through the floor.

I swing the door open, the handle bouncing off the internal wall as it collides with force. My blood is boiling hot with fury and without hesitation, my hand flies out to Taner’s neck and my fingers clasp tightly around his throat as I drive him backwards until his back hits the door to his apartment. Where he should have fucking stayed.

My top lip is curled, baring my teeth with my brows knitted together so tightly I’m sure they’re touching. Leave. Me. Alone, I’m barely able to bite out with my jaw clenched so hard.

Despite the fact my hand is constricting his throat and I have him pinned, his face remains completely unfazed; I’d even go as far to say he looks fucking amused. It’s the first time I’ve seen his face without his sunglasses and if I wasn’t wound up so tight with rage, his eyes might throw me off my stride. Two golden hazel pools glare back at me, totally nonchalant.

You’re the one with your hand around my neck, he says in that same placid yet vexing tone, only the hint of a smile on his lips but the amusement blazes rampant in his eyes.

I release his throat and take two big steps backwards to put distance between us and escape that acrid citrus scent of his.

What do you want? I growl.

We need to go over our strategy for tonight.

I scoff as I turn on my heels and walk back into my room shaking my head. I throw the door closed behind me but a loud thud has me jolting my head back around to find Taner’s arm holding it open. His large hand is splayed open on the door, revealing bruised and scabbed over knuckles. One thick brow arches at me, all traces of cockiness gone as he actually looks serious for the first time.

I’m not going into this without a plan.

I give him a once over, still glowering as my anger is yet to subside. I suck in a deep breath and blow it out with a grumble. Fine. But I need an hour alone first.

He dips his chin once as he lowers his hand to allow the door to close. I’ll set the timer for an hour, he says with his pretentious bravado back in place, along with that fucking smirk.

I kick the door shut in his face. Asshole.

Chapter 2

Taner

Well, she’s a challenge.

An insanely drop-dead gorgeous challenge.

When Logan called me and said I’d been assigned a partner for my next mission, I was actually looking forward to working with a teammate for the first time since I started this job. I’ve been a lone soldier for the past four years, whereas in the Marines I was always part of a team, the team was part of a squad, the squad was part of a platoon, and so on.

But after meeting Demi, I don’t think this is going to be such a smooth sailing partnership.

I wasn’t joking when I said I’d set a timer. She currently has fifty-eight minutes and twenty-one seconds left until I’m back to knocking on her door again.

I can be flexible with my teammates, I’m not a demanding person, but I point blank refuse to walk into a mission unprepared. So, if she thinks her fiery temperament will deter me, she’s unbelievably mistaken.

I’ve dealt with many hot-tempered men and women in my military career but I don’t think any of them have had such a virulent spirit quite like her. And I’ve only known her for an hour.

If lashing out at me pacifies her obvious need to be in control, then so be it. I’m a grown man, I can handle her alpha complex. So long as she understands that on the mission we work together, we won’t have a problem.

I decide to take a shower to pass the time while I wait for the prima donna to get over herself. In the slate grey bathroom is a walk-in shower that takes up the entire left-hand side of the room with more jet heads than one person could possibly need. I turn the knob and wait for the water to heat up, leaning on the sink vanity with my head hung between my shoulders.

The building I raided two nights ago housed a trio of men that were involved in the abduction of four girls a week ago in Salt Lake City. With the information Logan and I had gathered, we were hoping to find and rescue them from the rathole the men were hiding in, but I soon found—albeit unfortunately just too late—that the girls had already been moved to another location. Which is where Demi and I will be rescuing them from tonight.

My knuckles are still sore from pummelling one guy’s face to a pulp until he caved in and gave me the information I needed, and then I put a bullet between his eyes. I flex my hand, feeling the burning ache I’ve endured so many times before, I’m surprised my knuckles aren’t permanently damaged.

I learnt some pretty gruesome interrogation techniques for retrieving information from my time being captured in Afghanistan, but it’s not often I need to bring out the big guns. Most of them end up pissing themselves at the first hint of pain, and the information tends to flow freely shortly after.

I step under the shower spray and wash myself with the expensive-smelling toiletries provided, bracing my arms against the wall with the water running down my back for a moment. I close my eyes as the hot water and steam help loosen the deep-rooted tension built up in my muscles.

My mind wanders back to mere moments ago when Demi’s upturned eyes darkened almost black with savagery beneath her frown and her lips curled back to bare her perfectly straight teeth. The feeling of her fingers wrapped around my neck as she tried to intimidate me further. I’ll give it to her, she’s got a strong grip on those slender digits.

Blood rushes to a part of me it has no business going to at the thought of a teammate, never mind one that looks like she wants to rip my windpipe straight