“What about him? Thought you wanted him to watch.” A shoe nudged my body. “He ain’t waking up.”

A sinister laugh chilled my blood. “Sure he is. See his hands? He’s itching to rearrange your face, dude. Hurry the fuck up.”

Feet shuffled across the floor. “Get over here and help me with him.”

Two pairs of arms dragged me to my knees. I tried to speak but only managed a groan. Forcing my gritty eyes open, I lifted my head, which felt as heavy as a bowling ball. Shadows surrounded me, and I couldn’t make out their faces, couldn’t tell for sure how many were in my house. Nausea rose, and my head pounded so hard, every word they spoke lanced through my brain like a spear. I dropped my head, chin to chest.

One of them yanked my neck back and a blow glanced across my cheek. “Time to wake up, buddy. You ain’t gonna want to miss the show.”

“Alex?” Her name was the only word I could force past my sandpaper tongue.

“She’s safe, and she’ll stay that way as long as you do what you’re told. Understand?”

No. I didn’t understand anything, except that I’d been drugged. Another fist connected with my face, and I didn’t have the energy to fight them.

“I asked you a question. Her life depends on your cooperation. Do you understand?”

I nodded, though my head drooped more than bobbed. “Yeah.” Little by little, consciousness settled into my bones, though I still felt weighed down, as if ten wet blankets covered me. “What’d you give me?”

“You don’t ask questions. You shut your mouth and follow orders, got it?”

When I didn’t answer, two hands banded around my neck, fingers pressing hard on my carotid arteries. Spots danced in my vision, and I lifted my sluggish arms to ward off the assault, but the drugs had rendered my body useless.

He pulled away before I lost consciousness. “Take him outside.”

Two men hefted me into a slumped-standing position, and we slowly stumbled to the front door. “Don’t do this.” Another blow to the face shut me up. My chest squeezed as they pushed me down the stairs of the porch. I plummeted to the ground, rolled, and tried to brand my mind with every detail of the place where I’d spent so many summers growing up.

The fuckers were going to burn it down. My father’s cabin. The island. All I had left of him.

“Why are you doing this?”

A boot shot out and struck me in the kidney. I grunted, back arching, and held my breath.

“Shut the fuck up!” one of them shouted, adding another kick to my side. “Stubborn asshole.”