The drill whirs, and I feel my jawbone grind. Then I smell my tooth being ground into dust.

I never liked the dentist, but I’d rather be awake and know it’s being done right than getting put under.

And this isn’t the dentist.

“I’m inserting the device now,” Alexander says. “Remember, do not bite down on this tooth. If you have a habit of grinding your teeth or clenching your jaw when you are stressed or nervous, it’s time to drop that habit. I recommend you take up smoking.”

Definitely not a dentist.

I smell latex as his gloved hands go into my mouth, and then I feel pressure on the exposed tooth.

He brings a hot iron thing in, and I smell a weird, burning chemical residue hit my nostrils.

“I’m sealing it in now. Almost done.”

When he finally finishes, I let go of the seat. I realize I was digging my nails into the chair. Better than clenching my jaw.

“Seriously,” Alexander says. “Do not clench down.”

“Can I eat?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t recommend it. You can risk it, but--”

“I won’t then,” I say.

The device is on my back-left molar. One strong bite and it will go off.

Alexander pulls out a syringe, and he plunges it into my arm. “This will make you immune to the gas.”

I nod.

He pulls out a scalpel and swabs it with disinfectant.

“What’s that for?” I ask.

“Implanting a tracker beneath your skin,” he says.

“I thought there’s one in the tooth,” I say.

“There is,” he says. “But if they scan you for trackers, they need to find one that is well hidden. If they find and remove this one, they’ll think you’re clean.”

I nod, and he cuts into my forearm.

I watch as he cuts a quarter inch or so down, and he pulls up a flap of skin. It hurts like hell, but I don’t flinch.

He picks up the tracker with a pair of tweezers--it’s small--and he pushes it into my forearm. I feel a cool numbing sensation when he applies a cream to the wound.

“This stops the bleeding and prevents scarring. They won’t be able to see it without a scanner.”

When he’s finally done, I pay him and leave.

I’ve hired a team of five mercenaries to go in once I release the gas. I don’t know how many guys Cynthia hired, but five ex-SWAT members with machine guns should be able to handle any number of hired muscle that I knock out with sleep gas.

Cynthia still hasn’t contacted me, but I’m ready to go in now. I don’t expect she’ll give me a lot of time once she contacts me.

I go home and try to sleep, resting as much as I can before it’s on.

My phone wakes me up in the middle of the night. I grab it and answer, my adrenaline jolting me instantly awake and alert.

“Where is she?” I ask.

There is no response, but I can hear her breathing. Cynthia, not Amber.

“I swear to God--” I start, but she cuts me off.

“You have no leverage,” Cynthia says. “None. I’ll bring you to her, but you have to surrender. Fully.”

This is what I expected, but I pretend to think it over.

Finally I answer. “Agreed. What do I do?”

“Go to where you dumped me,” she says. “And wait there. Alone. If anyone follows you, I will know.”

I broke up with her at the Waterfront Park. I still remember the way she screamed and wailed. The way it echoed across the water.

“Now?” I ask.

“Now,” she says, and hangs up.

* * *

I walk from my car to the park. It’s cold and raining, and the park is empty. It’s well past 3 a.m., and it feels like I’m the only person awake in the city.

I stand on the boardwalk, looking at the ferris wheel, the guardrails pressing cold against my back. This is the exact spot I broke up with Cynthia over ten years ago.

I don’t have to wait long. I see him approaching me out of the shadows. A big guy with wide shoulders. He’s wearing a beanie on his head, and his hand is jammed down in his jacket pocket. He’s clutching a gun, I’m sure of it.

“I’m unarmed,” I say.

“Kill me and you’ll never see her again,” he says.

He steps into the light, and it’s no one I recognize. He looks tired and worn down, but there’s an intensity in his eyes. He’s not going to back down or give Cynthia up, I can already tell.

That doesn’t mean I won’t try.

“I can double her price--”

“Save it,” he says, drawing the gun. “I can’t be bought.”

“What is she paying you?” I ask.

He pulls back the gun, and it clicks, chambering a bullet.

“Here’s what we are going to do,” he says. “I have a van out back. You’re going to get in, and I’m going to knock you out. You’ll wake up with Amber.”

“Do you think she’ll let Amber go?” I ask. “If I give myself over?”

He raises the gun all the way, pointing it right at me. “Get in the van, or walk away. Your call.”

“The van,” I say.

He gestures me forward with the gun, and I lead the way back toward the shadows in the direction from which he came. I can feel the gun on me as I walk forward, even though I never look back.

I see the van parked on the street, and he shouts for me to turn around.

He throws me the keys. “Open it.”

I unlock the back doors and open them up wide.

“Get in,” he says, and I feel the gun jab into my back.

If I really wanted to, I could risk disarming him right now. But a man who can’t be bought for any amount of money likely isn’t going to squeal. I have the gas in my tooth, and it’s my best bet at this point. I get into the van without fighting back.

“Time to sleep,” he says, and I feel the syringe jab into my arm.

* * *

I wake up with a gag in my mouth. Everything is dark, and I feel something over my face. I try to move, but my legs and hands are tied down. I’m tied to a chair.

I struggle more, looking for a weakness in the knots, but my forearm burns with pain as the ropes rub raw against an open wound.

“We cut it out of you,” Cynthia’s voice says. “Well, Winston did, back in the van. Nice try. I’ll have to punish you for it, though.”

I smell her suddenly, that same sickly sweet perfume she’s always worn.

“We really could have been happy together,” she says. “You only have yourself to blame for this, Liam.”

I stay still. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.

I wait, and then I feel her pulling on the gag.

It comes out, but I don’t speak.

“No need to act tough,” she says. “I know you’re strong. You’ve got nothing to prove to me, Liam.”

“Do what you have to,” I say. “But do it to me.”

“Sorry,” Cynthia says. “Any punishment will have to hurt you. I know you can bear the pain...but she can’t.”

I feel the cloth pull across my face, and a flash of light blinds me.

Everything rushes into focus, and I see Amber just like in the photo. Naked, bound, blindfolded, and gagged. She’s about fifteen feet away from me, facing me. Her skin is still raw against the rope, but there’s no other signs that she’s been hurt or tortured.

I feel my stomach drop. Cynthia’s been waiting for me to arrive before she gets started.

I look around, searching for the guy who brought me here: Winston. I don’t see him anywhere. My team knows where I am, but the only way I can signal them to rush in is by biting the tooth and releasing the gas. If Winston doesn’t get knocked out, he could get Cynthia and Amber out before my team came in.

There might even be more guys than Winston. I need to feel out the situation more before I bite the tooth down and release the gas.

I can’t tell what kind of building we’re in. The room looks like some kind of bedroom in a low-rent apartment. The carpets are old, and the walls are eggshell white with old nails in them. There’s no furniture aside from the chairs that Amber and I are sitting on. The ceilings are low, and there’s a window, but it’s covered from the outside with black plastic. The only light is coming from a standing lamp leaning against the wall.

There’s a door on the wall to the left of me, but it’s shut.

“Amber,” I say. “It’s okay, I’m--”

Cynthia’s face turns to pure rage, and her foot flies up and hits me in the gut. I feel her heel dig into my hard abs, and the air is knocked out of me.

“Don’t fucking talk to her,” Cynthia says. “You talk to me. Show me how much you love her.”

She pulls a knife out of her purse and starts cutting the rope.

How stupid is she? The moment that rope is cut and my arms are free, I’m going for her throat.

But she stops short.

“Let’s see how fast you can free yourself,” she says, grinning.

I’ve already started working. I flex every muscle in my body, leveraging against the back of the chair. I push my chest out and try to pull my arms up until my back aches, and I feel the rope starting to give way--ever so slightly.

“I think you need more incentive,” she says, walking toward the door.

She opens it up and shouts inside, “Bring him in now.”

I see Winston shove a naked man into the room. It’s a man I recognize at once: Anton Valencia.

I see a revulsion on Winston’s face, but he stands against the wall with his arms crossed. Now if I break free, I wouldn’t be able to just take Cynthia out--I’d have to go through Winston.

I could bite the tooth right now, but Winston is lingering right in the doorway. The moment he saw the gas, he could slam the door and get out. He needs to be closer to me--or I need to get closer to him. I need to get in the doorway and then bite down. I need to keep Winston, Anton, and Cynthia in this room long enough for the gas to do its job on all three of them.

And why the fuck is Anton even here? And naked of all things?

“Anton,” Cynthia snaps. “Do whatever you want to Amber. This is your chance to lose your virginity before I kill you.”

His eyes widen, but his cock is completely flaccid. He looks terrified.

Amber starts to struggle, and Cynthia pulls off the gag.

I hear Amber screaming, and my muscles burn as I fight and pull at the ropes. One of the ropes snaps entirely away, but there are dozens more. I have to bite hard on my tongue as I work and struggle, so as to not accidentally trigger the gas. I bite so hard I taste blood dripping down my throat.

“Please, no, no, no,” Amber says. “Anton, don’t--”

“She doesn’t want me to,” Anton says, his voice trembling. “I’m not going to...r-r-r-ape her.”

Cynthia growls and shoves him against the wall. She reaches down between his legs and squeezes his balls.

His eyes roll back into his head, and I see his cock start to twitch and stiffen.

“There you go,” she says. “I swear to fucking God, Anton, Winston is going to put a bullet between your eyes if you don’t get your dick wet. You die either way, so at least go out a man.”

My muscles bulge with animalistic intensity. More ropes snap, and Cynthia looks back at me with glassy eyes. “Why couldn’t you fight like that for me? My Lion.”

She looks away from me and presses her lips against Anton’s, her hand still tightly squeezing his balls.

I swear that I see Winston shudder, but he doesn’t look at me. Cynthia must have him under some form of duress. Blackmail, or worse. If he looks at me now, he’ll feel too strong a temptation to help me. He doesn’t want to humanize me, as disgusted as he may feel.

I tear harder, faster, and the ropes start to snap one after another. My arms break free, and I reach down and tug at the knots on my legs.

I see Winston’s body tighten. Is he ordered to stop me as soon as I break free, or does Cynthia want to see me go off on Anton?

Anton’s cock is hard now, and Amber is still pleading. Every pained syllable from her mouth cuts me deeper than any knife ever could.

“Please,” Anton says. “I can’t do it. She was just being nice to me…”

“Doesn’t she look so hot, though?” Cynthia asks, stroking his dick. “Imagine my hand is hers.”

The knot comes undone, and I leap forward out of my chair.

I go straight for Winston--the greatest threat. I bite down on the tooth even before I reach him.

I hear the gas hissing, and I grab hold of him before his gun is even halfway drawn.

I grip him for all I’m worth, and I exhale, trying to get as much gas as possible into his lungs while blocking the doorway at the same time.

I hear a gun go off, and I feel my leg explode in pain.

Winston shoves me off him, throwing me down onto my back.

He grabs Cynthia and pulls her away, throwing her through the door. She doesn't let go of Anton, and the two of them disappear into the door. Winston slams it shut, pulls off his jacket, and shoves the jacket down to seal the crack between the door and the floor.

Winston shouts through the door. “There’s gas! Stay away! Cynthia, I swear to God, I’m not betraying you!”

I try to stand up, but my leg explodes in pain. It’s not the type of pain I can just shrug off, it’s the kind that spreads itself all the way through every nerve until my vision goes black and I collapse down in agony. The bullet must have shattered a fucking bone.

Winston looks down at me. “I’m immune to your gas. Same injection you got.”

Fuck.

“What does she have on you?” I grunt.

I look up at Amber. She’s asleep now. That’s probably for the best.

“My wife,” Winston hisses. “If Cynthia doesn’t call in every hour, they kill her. I couldn’t risk her going to sleep.”

“Cynthia won’t let your wife go,” I say. “You have to know that. Work with me, we can--”

“You know you’d do the same thing in my shoes,” he whispers.

The SWAT team is coming, and Cynthia is on the other side of the door. Winston has every reason to kill Amber and me as soon as he hears their booted footsteps. I wasn’t supposed to break the tooth unless it was going to knock out everyone. The team has no reason to be stealthy. I ordered them to come in fast while everyone was knocked out cold, and to get Amber out.

Now I can’t even fucking stand up, and Winston is holding a gun in his hand, ready to execute both Amber and me at the first sign of trouble.

“Cynthia?” he shouts through the door.

“She’s asleep,” Anton yells.

“Fuck!” Winston slams his fist into the wall, then brings the gun around to me.

“When did she last call in?” I ask.

“Forty-five minutes ago,” he says, the veins on his bald, glistening head bulging out.

“You have fifteen minutes to figure something out--”

“Fuck you!” he shouts, pointing the gun at me.

At least he’s going to kill me and not Amber.

I have to tell him about the SWAT team, and now.

“There was a tracer in my tooth,” I say. “A full SWAT team is rushing up the stairwell right now. I don’t know what floor we’re on, but--”

He starts to laugh maniacally.

“Pull it together,” I shout. “If you get me outside, I can call them off, I can--”

“The room is shielded!” he shouts. “No signals can get in or out! No one is coming. Cynthia had to go down an entire floor every time she called the guy holding my wife. No one is coming!”