Chapter 89 89

Chapter 89 89
I stepped around the mahogany desk, my boots clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor until I stopped right in front of the girl. Sasha lay huddled on the floorboards, her knees pulled toward her chest as much as the plastic zip ties around her wrists would allow. The dark fabric of the gag across her mouth buckled with every frantic, shallow breath she took.

I looked down at her, completely unhurried, letting the silence stretch until the rhythmic hitching of her chest grew louder.

"Take the gag off, Razor," I said, not breaking my gaze from her face.

Razor moved forward without a sound, his large hands reaching down to untie the knot at the back of her head. He pulled the cloth away in one swift motion and stepped back into the shadows beside the bookshelf, folding his massive arms over his chest once more.

Sasha immediately gasped, drawing in a huge gulp of air. A thin line of saliva ran down her chin, and she coughed violently, her shoulders shaking. She didn't look at me. Her wide, wet eyes were fixed entirely on the bottom drawer of my desk, where her data file rested.

"Let's make this simple, Sasha," I said, keeping my tone measured, the same voice I used when explaining a standard treatment plan to a patient. "I need to know exactly who you have been talking to about the clinic's specialized drug protocols."

She shook her head rapidly, her breath catching in her throat. "I—I don't know what you're talking about, Dr. Bennett. Please. I swear I didn't say anything."

"That is a poor start," I murmured, taking another step closer so that the toe of my leather boot rested mere inches from her trembling shoulder. "We both know that is untrue. You were seen outside the administrative building speaking with Harmony Sinclair. You spent twenty minutes on the phone with an unlisted number yesterday evening, right before my security team intercepted you at the station. I am going to ask you one more time, and I strongly advise you to think about your answer. Who did you talk to?"

Sasha swallowed hard, a tear spilling over her lower eyelid and tracking through the dust on her cheek. "Nobody. It was just Harmony, okay? But we didn't talk about the pills. We just talked about my wrist rehab. I was just asking about my schedule. Please, you have to believe me. I have a match next week. My coach is going to be looking for me. My parents—"

"Your parents believe you are on a mandatory athletic retreat in the northern district," I interrupted smoothly. "I took the liberty of sending an automated notification from the clinic’s portal an hour ago. You do not need to concern yourself with your coach, or your matches. Your only concern right now is giving me the names."

"I don't have any names!" she shrieked, her voice cracking as she shrank back against the base of my desk. "I didn't tell anyone anything! I swear to God, Dr. Bennett, please just let me go home!"

Her stubbornness was becoming an unnecessary drain on my schedule. I felt the slight, familiar tightening of irritation at the back of my neck. I do not tolerate inefficiency, and I certainly do not tolerate lying from street-level assets who have overstepped their boundaries.

Before she could utter another sob, I reached down, grabbed a handful of her thick blonde hair, and pulled her upward with a sharp, brutal jerk.

Sasha let out a piercing scream that cut through the quiet room, her bound hands flailing behind her back as she tried to find some leverage to ease the pressure on her scalp. I forced her up until she was balanced precariously on her tiptoes, her face inches from mine. Up close, I could see the tiny broken capillaries in her bloodshot eyes and the sheer, unadulterated terror radiating from her skin.

"Listen to me very carefully," I whispered, my voice completely steady despite the physical exertion. "You are an administrative error that I am currently trying to correct with minimal disruption. But my patience is not infinite. Who knows about the testing protocols? Did you give Harmony the laboratory logs?"

"No! No!" she sobbed, tears streaming freely now, choking on her own breath as she twisted in my grip. "I don't have any logs! I didn't take anything! Stop, please, you're hurting me! I didn't tell her anything about the drugs!"

"You're lying," I said.

I released her hair with a downward shove, sending her crashing back onto the hard floor. She groaned, curling into a tight ball, her face pressed against the wood as she wept.

I stood over her for a long moment, waiting for the dramatic display to subside, but she simply lay there, shaking and shaking, refusing to offer the single piece of information that would conclude this meeting. My patience evaporated entirely. She was no longer just a loose thread; she was actively wasting my time.

I stepped back slightly and kicked her sharply in the stomach.

The toe of my boot connected heavily with her midsection. The sound was a dull, wet thud. Sasha’s eyes went wide, the air exploding out of her lungs in a horrific, strangled gasp. She instantly buckled inward, her chest convulsing as she fought to draw oxygen back into her body, her face turning a deep, dark shade of red. She rolled onto her side, twitching weakly, entirely incapacitated by the blow.
Behind her, near the doorway, Benji let out a sharp, panicked breath. He took a frantic step forward, his hands raised in front of him as if he wanted to intervene, but his boots glued themselves to the floorboards the moment he realized where he was standing. His face had gone completely white, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the varsity athlete gasping at my feet.

"Jesus, Bennett," Benji stammered, his voice trembling violently. "What are you doing? This is... she's a student, man. She's on the university team. You can't just—"

I didn't look at him. I pulled a linen handkerchief from my breast pocket, wiped a small speck of dust from the leather of my boot, and tucked it away.
Razor stepped forward out of the shadows, his massive frame looming over Sasha's twitching body. He looked down at her, then turned his gaze toward me, his expression completely blank.

"Should I take the girl down to the basement?" Razor asked, his deep voice cutting through the sound of Sasha's wet wheezing.

I looked down at the girl, then slowly shifted my gaze over to Benji. An idea formed in my mind, a perfectly logical solution to two problems at once. Benji was currently a liability; his anger over the withheld drug money made him unpredictable, and unpredictable employees needed to be tied directly to the consequences of the enterprise. Once his hands were dirty, his loyalty would be guaranteed.
I looked at Benji, letting a cold, deliberate expression settle onto my face.

"No," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the boy. "Benji should be the one to take her away."

Benji froze. He shook his head slowly, his eyes darting from me to Razor, and then back to the girl on the floor. "What? No. No way. I didn't sign up for this, Bennett. I move product. That's the deal. I sell the packs on the street and I bring you the cash. I don't do... whatever the hell this is. I'm not touching her."

"You will do exactly what I tell you to do, Benjamin," I said, my voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register. "You are already an accessory to this operation. You brought the funds that keep this clinic running. If Sasha's information leaves this room, we all go down. Including your sister."

"This is crazy!" Benji shouted, backing up until his spine hit the wooden doorframe. He was completely panicked, his chest heaving as he looked for an escape route that didn't exist. "You're out of your mind! I'm out. I'm leaving. Keep the five grand, I don't care. I'm walking out that door right now."

He reached behind him for the brass doorknob, but before his fingers could even brush the metal, Razor moved.

The larger man crossed the room with terrifying speed, his massive hand clamping down onto Benji’s shoulder like a steel vice. He pushed Benji flat against the wall, the impact rattling the framed medical licenses hanging in the hallway outside. Razor didn't raise his hand to strike him; he simply stood there, his chest pressed against Benji’s face, his eyes drilling into the younger man with a silent, imposing threat that made it perfectly clear what would happen if he took another step toward the exit.

Benji went totally rigid. The air left his lungs in a small, pathetic whine. He looked up at Razor's massive frame, the anger completely draining out of him, replaced by the stark realization that he was utterly powerless.

"The basement stairs are at the end of the hall, Benjamin," I said smoothly, resting my hands back on the edge of my desk. "Razor will open the door for you. Pick her up."

Benji swallowed hard, his jaw trembling as Razor slowly released his shoulder and stepped back just enough to allow him to move. Benji looked down at Sasha, who was still gasping for air on the floorboards, her eyes rolling back slightly.

He didn't say another word. Moving with reluctant, shaky steps, Benji walked over to the center of the room. He knelt down beside the girl, his hands trembling as he hoisted her limp, bound body over his shoulder.

Sasha let out a weak, muffled groan against his back as he straightened up, the weight of the kidnapping finally settling onto his posture. He turned away from my desk without looking at me, his eyes fixed on the floor, and hauled her out of the room.