DARK, DARK, DARK... Here is the end of our tunnel, and it will get very very dark before there is light of any kind... fair warning.
oOo
Thirty-seven
She'd given them a fight, all right, but all it had accomplished was getting her a black eye and what felt like several more broken ribs. Benny hadn't been joking; if he'd had his way, she really would have been nothing but a pile of twigs at his feet. Now she tried to find some small way to move and ease the growing pain in her chest; difficult to do with her hands tightly tied above her head.
Jones swept into the room. "Go take care of Romeo in the lab; you'll still get your chance here." His mood indicated there was to be no argument, and the two men scurried out of the room.
He looked at Tara; there was no leering smile, no warped comments, just an ice-cold glare that froze her blood. He yanked the restraints tighter, grabbed a small knife off a nearby table and made short work of all the clothing he'd spared earlier, and leaned over to hiss in her ear. "Enough," was all he said.
It was different this time... before, it had been uncomfortable and utterly humiliating, but things had changed. It was absolute agony; she could feel her flesh tearing under the stabbing pressure, and every breath was torture. They had blindfolded her and taped her mouth again, so all she could do was whimper and struggle against the restraints. Suddenly, she heard a sound from outside the room that made her heart nearly stop.
Again... and again... the sound of the lash was burned into her mind so deeply she could never mistake it. She raised her head and turned toward the sound, only to hear the maniacal glee in Jones' voice.
"There is a season for everything," he purred coldly. "And your season, as well as that of your beloved partner, is at an end. And I'm not particularly concerned with you dying happy. So let's just get it over with."
Let's. Tara let her head drop back onto the table and winced at every sound coming from the other room, no longer even aware of what was happening to her, the blood starting to run. All she knew was the sickening sight of what she'd been forced to watch earlier, multiplied tenfold. Myles, she thought, I tried... I really tried... I should never have bargained, I should have just let him kill us to begin with, because this is far worse than death. Now it's too late, and I haven't the strength left to pull out the restraints. If there was any chance you were still alive… I'm so very sorry. I hope I see you... later... in another place…to tell you that.
Just then, the sounds went quiet. A minute later, she heard footsteps fade into the room. Jones paused; he didn't say anything, so Tara could only assume he simply raised a brow at them.
"All taken care of, boss," Jet chortled. "He's as good as dead. He ain't going anywhere but the pearly gates now."
Jones snorted. "I can wish him someplace much warmer," he growled. "But that's later. Why don't we finish up here?"
Tara let the tears fall under the blindfold and allowed the grief to take over, blocking out everything else. I'll see you soon, my friend, she cried silently. And this nightmare will be all over.