Guardian of the Jewel - LaVerne Clark
Stupid. So stupid.
Thomas Hamblin laughed. The mirthless sound cut off mid gasp when he choked on a loose tooth. Coughing and spluttering, a dim part of his mind questioned why he tried so hard to draw breath. He only delayed the inevitable.
The tooth disloged and the sound of his breathing whistled through a mouth of broken teeth, filling the cavernous warehouse. The man known as Razor lifted his head and eyed him with clinical detachment before sauntering over. He squatted down, the smile at odds with his cold reptilian stare. He held a photo in his hands.
"A fine looking family you have here, Hamblin," he conversed in a smooth tone, as if they were at a cocktail party. Thome jerked against the coarse ropes that bound him to the chair, his eyes wild with fear. The strands bit deeper into the exposed flesh torn from previous efforts, but he hardly registered the pain. His heart pounded in desperation. Not his family! He strained until his strength ebbed and he collapsed back in vain, hopelessness lodged like a stone in his chest.
Razor observed the struggle in amusement. His fingertip caressed the image of Amy, Thomas's wife. The nail raked the surface slowly and turned the slight smile she wore into a grimace.
"I do hope for their sake you've told the truth about where you've hidden the diamond, or I may find myself taking a little Pacific holiday." He flicked open the blade which gave him his name and coolly cleaned the dried blood from under his nails.
Razor's words send a shaft of ice straight to his belly. Thomas closed his eyes in despair, the image of his family burned into the back of his eyelids. How had he let it go so far? God, he prayed not for the first time, keep them safe. He'd prayed more in the last couple of days since they'd taken him than ever before in his whole pathetic life. He didn't pray for himself. No, he prayed for his family, that none of this horror touched them. He prayed for the strength to withstand the torture and beatings they'd inflicted and to keep true to the story he'd told them.
Keep them far away from New Zealand, he begged, closing his eyes for a moment before pain snapped them open again to the ugly present.
"I'm telling the truth," he rasped, his lips misshapen and stiff. "I buried it deep in the sand of the old gravel beach, the one they mined dry. Someone moved my marker." His voice rose in desperation. "But it's there. I swear." He paused, and drew in a shuddering breath. "Leave my family out of it. They know nothing." His chest heaved from the effort of talking, his sight started to dim around the edges.
Razor lifted his hand and inspected his nails. With a heavy sigh, he stepped closer to Thomas. His knife glinted in the fading light. "I'd just got them nice and clean, too."
You can find more out about LaVerne at her blog, or facebook page, and if you are interested in reading more, the book can be purchased either at Amazon, or through her publisher Wild Rose Press.
