Breaking Steele (Sarah Steele Legal Thriller)

Chapter 7

I SAT UP WITH a start. My head pounded like a hammer. I tried to pull my hands free, but they were strapped to the chair where I sat. I blinked a few times and tested the gag jammed in my mouth. It tasted like mothballs and rum. Not a good combo.

Think, Sarah, find the markers. Windows, sounds, anything to track this place down later. But I couldn’t see because they’d put a hood over my head.There were strong paint fumes in the air. The sound of footsteps on the concrete floor made me turn my head. Heels. Not a woman’s. Expensive dress shoes.

“Take the hood off.” The male voice was commanding, yet soft, like the voice of someone who didn’t fear anything or anyone. The hood was pulled off and a burst of light hit my eyes. A lamp pointed straight at my face so all I could see were a few shadows. They surrounded me like I was some kind of attraction at the zoo.

I tried to collect my bearings. My legs were untied. My hands were bound tight to the arms of a metal office chair. By the acoustics of the place and the dampness in the air, I thought we had to be in a basement.

The same man spoke again. “Hello, Miss Steele. I am … well, I am against you. We need the Williams case to go away.” I thought I’d heard his voice before. Like it was a voice in a commercial or something. I couldn’t place it.

I didn’t pull or struggle on my restraints. I wasn’t even sweating. My vision had cleared and I studied the ground. There was yellowed carpet glue in thin lines on the concrete floor. I saw green carpet lint littering the floor.

I could feel the monster within me trying to get out. But I wouldn’t let it. Not yet, not again.

“What are you going to do?” I asked in a dark voice. “Bribe me? Rough me up and threaten my family? Or whatever you saw on the latest episode of Law & Order?”

“No, miss,” the man said. I heard him take a step forward. “It’s not as if we could mess up your family any more than it already is. Your mother’s in jail for murdering your father.”

No matter how many times I’d heard it, the fact still sent a searing pain through my chest. It hadn’t dulled over the years. He was right—the situation couldn’t get any worse, and he didn’t even know the half of it.

I pushed back the pain and raised my chin. The light dried out my eyes, and I squinted to see better.

One of the men to the side shifted, and I could see his features through the dim light. He wore a smooth black suit and a red tie. He stood around six feet tall. He was well groomed, with a small goatee and trimmed black hair. Firstborn and very type A. Not one wrinkle in sight.

The man in charge spoke again. “I know that no matter what I say, you will go on your way and do your best to win your case. So I’m going to make you a promise.” With a click, the room went dark. My heart quickened. “If you don’t let this trial go, I promise that Hank Williams will do to you exactly what he did to Tracy Mulligan.” My mouth went dry. “Except he’ll take much longer with you.”

Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it down. I needed to get out of here. Now. What did I have? My legs were free. As if a reflex took over, I got to my feet, bent in half from the chair. With a feral cry, I charged the voice. The light clicked back on, blinding me, but I was moving too fast to be stopped. I lunged at the middle shadow.

My head hit his chest and he caved, dropping to the floor. My weight knocked the wind out of him. I twisted in the chair, and the metal back socked him in the jaw. Moving again, I rolled to my knees just as something hit my head.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw a face. A face that looked identical to Hank Williams’.