The Traitor ✓ (Book Six)

Preface

James's P.O.V

As I pull out a fourth toenail, the man sitting in front of me screams. Time and time again people surprise me with their lung capacities- each one outranking the last, though I suppose my methods have only gotten more cruel. The group I've been forced to work for- we don't even have a name, are the truly cruel ones, though. The plan they've come up with, the one they've involved me in without my consent is beyond cruel.

  I remember the day they told me they had Emily like it was yesterday. When I finally saw her, she was terrified but like the stubborn woman she is- has never let them get to her. She's just a few hallways away, in fact- in a tiny but relatively nice prison-looking cell.

  I hate what I'm doing to this man, but according to the leaders it is necessary. And if I want Emily to live, I don't have a choice. Right now my boss, the First Lady of the United States- thinks I'm taking my vacation days.

  Boy is she in for a surprise-

  My thoughts are interrupted by another scream as I cut his big toe off.

"Please, please I have a family-"

"Oh, we know." I interrupt. "In fact, that's exactly what we're counting on here. It would be quite tragic if they got your head in a box on their front doorstep."

As the words leave my mouth, I feel like throwing up. I know how fucked up this all is, but with the leaders eyes on me- I must continue. I try to overshadow my momentary weakness by standing over him, an eyebrow raised.

Standing up, I'm almost four feet taller than him.

"I've already told you how this works." I continue. "You tell us what information you gave to that Brighton times reporter and we don't kill you. Really- I don't know why you insist on making this so hard on yourself."

"I will never tell-"

"Oh I think you will with the right motivation." I bend down in front of him until we're eye level. The blood dripping from where his big toe should be lands on my shoes. I casually wipe it away. "So I'm gonna explain this to you one more time since you don't seem to get it: You have two options here. Your first is to tell us exactly what you told that reporter so we can kill him and everybody else that knows. Your second, if you continue to be difficult- is that we just kill you, your entire family, everybody else you care about, and everybody that reporter cares about. That's at least fifty people. You don't want to be responsible for that much death, do you?"

Ice runs through my veins. I have become someone I don't recognize. The man glances between me, the door, and the leaders. "You really thinking about escaping right now?" I laugh. "Christ, you won't be able to walk for a few days. Now if you'll answer my question- I've got a lunch break and I'd like to take it soon."

"You people are crazy." He spits. "Fucking....crazy! James- for fucks sake you were forced to work for them too out of all people you should understand-"

"Out of all people I know that survival is more important than fighting....it." I lie. "So this is your last chance before we bring your daughter in too. We'll give you a few minutes to think."

With that , I stand up- a bloody knife hanging from one hand and the other clutching my stomach as I try to keep my shit together. I know it will probably get me in trouble, but instead of just staying in the hallway, I walk straight past the guard in the direction of the one person I love.

Her voice has an effect on me I can't even describe, as does seeing her in that jail-looking cell. Each time it breaks me and each time it makes me want to scream the group's plot in a crowded place, but then I remember the alternative, what would happen if I did.