Jackson was out of patience. His face went cold in an instant.
"Sign. Now."
"No."
His expression collapsed. He flicked his hand.
Two of the enforcers rushed in and pinned me to the floor.
Jackson crouched down, set his shoe on my fingers, and ground them back and forth under the sole.
"I'll give you one more chance. Sign or not?"
"No."
He pulled out his phone, opened a livestream, and aimed it at my face.
"Take a look, everyone. This is Clyde Finch, your former director. On his knees, begging me to let that eighteen-thousand-dollar thing slide."
I could hear the comments coming in, the little alerts pinging without a break.
"This guy's a clown, right?"
"Took the money and still causes trouble. No shame at all."
"Mr. Dickerson's a bigger man than me, still wasting words on trash like that."
Jackson shut off the stream, pleased, and bore down hard on my fingers.
Then he took the stun baton from one of his men, thumbed the switch, and the blue arc crackled to life.
The baton slammed into my back.
Current tore through me, my muscles seizing all at once, and I convulsed and dropped to the floor.
"Sign or not?"
"No... sign..."
A second jolt.
A third.
The instant the current shot up my spine, I heard my own teeth crack together, my tongue split open, my mouth filling with the taste of rust.
My body arched on its own and slammed back down, ribs striking the concrete, everything inside me twisting together like it was caught in one huge fist.
I wanted to scream, but all my throat pushed out was a raw scrape of air, as if a hand were clamped around it and I couldn't breathe.
I clawed at my own neck with both hands, trying to force a little room to draw a breath.
My fingers found the jade bead at my throat, warm, glowing faintly blue.
So with the last of my strength, I tore it loose and hurled it at the corner of the wall.
Crack.
Fragments sprayed. From the core of the bead, a tiny chip popped free.
It blinked fast, throwing off a harsh red light, beeping. Beep, beep, beep.
In the dim basement, that red glow was blinding.
Jackson froze for a second, glanced down at the shattered jade scattered across the floor, then laughed again.
"Ha. I thought it was something. A busted rock. Who's that supposed to scare?"
His men laughed along with him. Someone kicked the pieces aside.
But Kane, standing guard at the door, stared at the broken bead on the ground, and his face changed all at once.
Like he'd seen something he was never supposed to see.
Jackson raised the baton again and came toward me.
...
I'd lost count of how many times I'd been shocked.
I lay on the floor, shaking all over, the taste of blood welling up in my mouth.
"Clyde. Ten minutes now, and you still won't sign. I'm out of patience."
"You want to die this bad, fine. I'll give you what you want."
The baton came down again, this time swinging for my head.
That was when it happened.
A rush of heavy footsteps came down the corridor.
Closer. Louder.
Jackson's hand stopped in midair. Everyone heard it.
BANG.
The iron door was kicked in from the outside.
"Nobody move."
