She hadn't seen the man in seven months, and yet she was being tortured for information on his whereabouts. How... moronic. Were these men really so stupid as to think that she'd go threw six months of torture and never divulge her secrets, but two idiots who's only form of persuasion was money or their fists was going to break her. Yeah, definitely morons. Hell, the only reason they'd gotten the drop on her was the one had come at her like a common thug, leaving the other to come up behind her when she was distracted and hit her with a two-by-four. Which still hurt, mind you.
"So, you ready to call him yet?" The one she'd christened Stubby - because of his stubby little sausage fingers - demanded.
She didn't look at the idiot man, she looked straight threw him.
"I thought you said you could break her easy." Streaks - because of the three slashes across his cheek, clearly a result of an improperly treated knife wound - said sullenly.
She snorted at that, the first noise she'd made the entire time they'd held her captive. Then, she spoke. "You honestly believe that two crackpot thugs for hire like yourself can break a woman that killed off half the Russian Mob after six months of torture?" She asked with another snort. "Not in your dizziest day dreams."
Streaks glanced to Stubs and then they both grinned rather maliciously. "Well then, if we can't break her, let's use her to send a message." Streaks said with a snarky little smile.
Stubs took on the nasty little grin. "Lets." He agreed. "If we can't get her to bring him out, we can send her to him."
The red-haired female sat silently before them, refusing to let fear invade her at the thoughts that clearly shone through these two men's eyes. Voice as strong as steel, cold as ice, and mean as a momma bears snarl came out of the little woman. "I will only warn you once; I am no one's victim."
Both men's eyes widened in terror at the woman's words.
They lashed out in anger, but never once did they contemplate anything but a beating for the woman. For her eyes held something beyond a threat. In that little woman's eyes held a promise of pain the likes Hell couldn't dream up. And even though the two men knew they were capable of handling just about anything that came their way, they weren't so sure they could deal with that promise.
Once they were threw working the woman over, they hauled her unconscious body out of their little concrete room and drove her to the place that held their client's target.