Zane's POV
The warehouse smells like rust and damp concrete.
There's one light on and it's hanging low, swinging slightly from the draft every time someone opens the outer door.
He's already tied to the chair when I walk in, with his wrist bound behind him and ankles secured to the legs, head hanging forward. Blood on his lip from where Thomas had to "convince" him to cooperate earlier.
He looks smaller than I imagined.
They always do.
I stand there for a moment and just look at him.
This is the man.... The is the one who thought she was prey.
Thomas steps back toward the wall when I enter. He doesn't speak, he knows better than to.
The man lifts his head slowly when he hears my boots against concrete.
His eyes are swollen from crying…. He doesn't recognize me yet.
"Please," he says immediately.
They always start with that. Always.
I stop two feet in front of him.
"Look at me."
His eyes flicker up.
Confusion..... then fear.
