She’s heard of waterboarding, of course, but couldn’t be prepared for it. It takes three pours to empty the bucket. The relief between each pour makes the next one worse. When he’s done, he removes the rag and she coughs, wheezes, and screams. Her lungs burn and her heart races.

The other three men stay in the room. They watch with hungry eyes as Zach undoes all the restraints and pulls her gently to the ground. His touch, so careful and tender, is a sharp contrast to what he’s doing to her.

When Zach lets go of her, Lynell attempts pushing herself up to stand, but her arms are too weak. She slips on the wet floor and falls, hitting her chin hard.

Zach grabs her under her arms. His chin rests on her shoulder and he whispers. “Hang in there. I have a plan,” before pulling her over to the buckets.

She blinks, trying to decide if she heard his words correctly.

How is torturing her a plan? How can he tell her to hang in there?

She looks up at the buckets, one steaming and the other filled with ice water.

Zach holds her head under the hot water for so long that she starts clawing at the edges of the bucket. She reaches up to try and grab him, but his arms are too strong, and she’s kept under the water until she’s sure she’s about to die.

Then at the last minute, just as she starts to feel consciousness slip away, he pulls her out of the water. She has just enough time to take a breath before she’s plunged into the other bucket filled with ice water.

And repeat.

Until she can’t take it anymore and she sucks in a lungful of the hot water and finally, mercifully, passes out.

She wakes on the bed again and hears the door open. Expecting to see Zach and prepared to demand answers, she looks up but instead finds herself looking at Eric. Biting back a scowl, Lynell lowers her head and closes her eyes.

“Zach went easy on you,” Eric says.

Lynell would scoff if she could.

“Just a bit of waterboarding. I’ll have to send Reggie in next. He has an affinity for fire. But his favorite toy is Arnold.” Lynell winces and opens her eyes when a few items fall to the ground. Eric pulls the chair closer to her and sits, leaning forward. “Arnold is his rat. He’s not a good owner, barely feeds the thing. But Reggie seems fond of putting Arnold in a metal bowl held against a stomach.”

Eric’s hand is suddenly resting on Lynell’s bare stomach and her eyes snap open. She cowers away from the hand, but Eric just keeps it pressing down. His eyes twinkle as he smiles at her.

“He heats up the bowl. It takes Arnold a bit of time before he realizes he’s too hot. Then, he needs to get away from the heat. And he can’t eat his way out of the metal bowl. So . . .” Eric takes his hand off Lynell’s stomach. “He goes the only way he can. Right. Down.” The tip of a knife returns to the spot above Lynell’s belly button where Eric’s hand had been moments previously. “Through you.” He pushes the knife just enough to pierce the skin before pulling it away.