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but each one showing bright red and angry against her pale skin.
    Rage replaced anger as Rhys recognized the careful knife work, meant to elicit maximum pain with minimal damage. It was a rudimentary but effective tactic used when high-value targets refused to talk.
    Which meant two things: Tessa was the person he’d been called out to question, and even after all of that she’d endured, she still hadn’t talked.
    His suspicions were confirmed as he traveled up to check the damage on her head. What he saw there was far from the cold, calculated cuts below. Through the dried blood and matted hair, he saw a tightly grouped series of ragged wounds, the kind caused by fingernails digging into her scalp as they grasped her hair in frustration.
    Tessa Rosenthal hadn’t just been roughed up or interrogated. Someone had tortured her.
    Not someone . Rhys knew without a shadow of doubt who had done this.
    “Dylan,” Rhys said.
    Tessa’s eyes went wide with fear at the name. “What?”
    “Did Dylan do this to you?” Rhys asked, certain he already knew the answer but wanting to hear it from her lips.
    He looked into her eyes as they flooded with tears. He could tell by the way she struggled to focus on his face that Tessa was quickly succumbing to the potent combo of drugs and exhaustion, but for the moment she was lucid enough.
    “It was…terrible.”
    There was a world of emotion in that single world. Rhys’ back teeth ground together. He put his hand to her head and smoothed back her hair, hoping to soothe away at least a little of the anguish Dylan had caused.
    “Did he do anything else? Besides dislocating your shoulder?” Rhys asked. He needed to know if there were other injuries, ones he couldn’t see.
    Tessa slowly shook her head. “He didn’t do that.”
    “Who then?”
    “I did.”
    Rhys narrowed his eyes. “You?”
    “It’s how I managed to escape. I don’t know why everyone left the room all at once. They’d never left me alone before.”
    Rhys knew. It had to be when he’d arrived at Boyd’s.
    “I had to get out of there, and I knew it was my only chance.” Her voice grew frantic. “My arms were tied. I tried to reach the knot, but I couldn’t quite get it. So I tried harder. Then it popped. It hurt…but my fingers could reach the knot.”
    She’d done what she had to do.
    Rhys stared at her face as he stroked her hair back.
    Her eyes began to close. She was almost out. He had time for one more question.
    “Tessa,” he said. Her eyes flickered open. “What did Boyd want from you?”
    She lolled her head back and forth against the bed.
    “I can’t tell you, Rhys,” she said, her voice soft and sleepy. “I’m so sorry. I can never tell anyone that.”
    Her eyelids drifted down. Her breathing evened out. All the tense lines on her face washed away as sleep overtook her.
    Rhys stayed down on his knees watching her. She was strong—a fighter. She had endured pain that had broken men twice her size, but she’d still found a way to escape.
    But it wasn’t over yet. Dylan hadn’t managed to crack her, which meant Boyd would still be desperate for whatever information Tessa was hiding. He wasn’t going to give up easily.
    A minute later, Rhys’ phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out as he stepped into the hallway. His eyes narrowed as he stared down at the name on the screen.
    He lifted the phone to his ear.
    “Dylan,” Rhys said, his voice low.
    “You left.” Dylan didn’t bother hiding the strain in his voice this time.
    “I did.”
    “And the guards at the door, that was you too?” Dylan asked.
    This time Rhys let his silence answer for him.
    Dylan gave a hard sigh. “You know, I took a big risk asking you to meet with Boyd. I put my reputation on the line for you tonight.”
    “I guess I’m not the person you thought I was,” Rhys said through clenched teeth.
    There was a long pause.
    “You took her, didn’t you?” Dylan finally asked.
    “I rescued her.”