If someone had told me I’m dead, I’d believe them. My head is blank, my senses frozen, my body numb.

The argument between Judson and Damien slips through the roar in my ears, but I’m unable to catch every word.

Twins. The word sinks into my brain, sending a shiver down my spine. How is it possible? How could I not have known?

A cold hard object revives my sense of feeling. Judson, who has now put on a pair of jeans, is holding the gun to my head.

“Don’t you fucking hurt her.” Damien reacts by ignoring his own pain and launching himself yet again at his brother. He connects with Judson’s elbow instead and goes right back down with a loud grunt. I have a go at saving myself by dashing for the door. I don’t get far. Judson pulls me by the hair and drops me to the floor. As the air shoots out of my lungs, I know one thing. We’re going to die. I know that there’s no way out, that I have come face-to-face with the real devil—one hell-bent on revenge.

“It’s time for us to have a little fun.” Judson nudges Damien in the ribs and waves the gun from him to me. “Basement. Now,” he barks.

Damien grunts as he gathers himself up and gets to his feet. For a moment his eyes meet mine but he looks away.

Judson yanks me to my feet by the hair, which he twists around his hand. I bite on my lip trying hard to contain the pain but I only bring on more as I taste blood. Hot tears of fear scorch my cheeks as he drags me through the corridors, Damien walking ahead of us.

By the time we reach the door to the basement, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and images, all jumbled in no particular order. I want to scream and fight for my life, but if Judson can overpower even his brother, what chance do I have against him? The only thing I can do is do my best not to piss Judson off even more.

“Open the door.” The words are for Damien but since Judson’s lips are so close to my ears, his voice assaults my eardrums.

Damien places a hand on the door handle but glances behind him first before pushing the door open. Is he checking to see if I’m all right? I avert my watery gaze and swallow hard. In spite of the fragile connection we made earlier, I can’t trust him. I’d come close to believing he regrets what he did to me, and yet he didn’t tell me about Judson. He may be the lesser of two evils, but ultimately he still has an evil core as he’s connected by blood to the devil himself.

As Damien pulls the door wide, Judson plants the flat of his hand between Damien’s shoulder blades and shoves him into the darkness. My heart jolts at the sound of Damien’s groans as he goes tumbling down the stairs.

“Your turn, darling.” Before I can prepare myself, I find myself flying and landing with a thud on the wooden steps, unable to catch my fall or breath. My screams catch inside my throat as I roll down the steps. I’m surprised when I don’t hit the solid floor at the bottom of the stairs. Damien, who still hasn’t moved, has cushioned my fall.

Pain pulses inside my body as I groan and roll off him. My hands cover my head as though I can contain the pain better that way. In truth, my head feels on the verge of splitting down the middle.

The light goes on but the dust particles floating around us make it less blinding.

“Let me help.” Damien pulls himself to a sitting position and tries to help me. I yank my arm away.

Before we can pull ourselves together, Judson is standing over us, a grin on his face and a bag hanging from his shoulder. I hadn’t noticed him carrying anything earlier.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her.” Damien says the words between coughs.

“No one tells me what the fuck to do,” Judson shoots back. He drops the bag at his feet and surveys the basement, nodding as though satisfied to have found the perfect prison for us.

Damien shifts next to me but I don’t turn to look at him. Rubbing my sore elbow, I can’t take my eyes off Judson, who’s rooting inside his bag with one hand while the other is pointing the gun at Damien’s head. He pulls out a roll of thick rope. I begin to shake, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Do whatever the fuck you came here to do to me. Just don’t harm her.”

“Harm her?” Judson pulls a bottle of gin from his bag and unscrews the cap. “I won’t—at least not yet. I’m bored. I want to have a little fun first.” He takes a long swig then smashes the bottle against a nearby wall. Shards of glass and drops of gin collide in the air before dropping to the floor. The sharp smell of alcohol makes my eyes water.

“You keep your mouth shut, I make the rules. Got that?” Before Damien can respond, Judson gives him a kick between the shoulder blades.

The sound of a large animal in pain pours out of Damien’s mouth as Judson drags him toward two chairs stacked on top of each other while keeping the gun on me.

The thought of attacking him while he’s occupied with tying Damien to a chair crosses my mind, but before I can act on it, something steals my attention. My stomach tightens when I spot a wooden coffin. No one needs to tell me it’s the one Damien had buried me in. There’s no smear of dirt on the burnished wood. Could it be Damien had not buried me at all, that I’d been in the basement while he sat on one of the chairs listening to my agony?

Fury gnaws at my stomach lining when my gaze slides to Damien, my body recalling the torture he put me through. But at seeing his head helplessly rested on his chest and his face pale, my anger turns to ashes, leaving only pity.

Finished tying Damien up, Judson places a hand on the coffin, eyes hooded. He lets out a low whistle and glances at Damien. “One of your sex toys?” he snorts. “Glad to see you’ve finally found your kinky side. I never thought you had it in you.” He rubs the side of his face. “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or jealous.”

When Damien doesn’t react, Judson ignores him and brings his attention back to me. My eyes fixed on his, I discreetly bring my hands behind me, my fingers searching the dusty floor for a weapon. I find none.

In a heartbeat, he crosses the space between us and hauls me to my feet. A sharp scream rips through me.

“Shut the fuck up.” He shoves me hard toward the coffin. My stomach collides with it and I gag. His hands clamp my shoulders and he pushes me to the floor, grabbing one of my hands and tying it tightly to one of the metal coffin handles, assaulting the newly-healed incisions on my right wrist. My head is spinning and bitter bile has collected at the back of my throat.

I raise my wet eyes to his face. “Let me go . . . please.”

“It’s me you want.” Damien cuts in, his voice broken but firm. “Let her go, dammit. Let her go and torture me. Kill me if you must. I don’t . . . I don’t give a damn.”

Without warning, Judson charges toward Damien and his fist connects with Damien’s face, which snaps back like a punching ball. I let out another scream. Judson laughs out loud and stomps back to his bag and pulls out a roll of tape, which he brings back to me. Holding my head tight against his body, he shuts me up.

“That’s better.” He drops the tape onto the floor. “The only time I tolerate women screaming is when I make them come.” He rubs his jaw. “Now that it’s clear who the boss is, let’s play.”

Instead of shutting up as he wants me to, I make inaudible sounds from behind the tape while rolling my head from side to side. In a flash, his iron grip is around my neck. Sheer terror sweeps through me when on reflex I try to open my mouth to gasp for air but can’t thanks to the tape which covers my mouth. As the oxygen supply to my brain shuts off and my head threatens to explode, I thrash around, trying to shake him off. He doesn’t release his grip. He increases the pressure of his hand for a few seconds.

From somewhere in the house, the doorbell rings, or I could be hallucinating. But he must have heard it as well because as suddenly as he had attacked me, he lets go.

My spinning, aching head drops to my chest and darkness steals over me.