60. Conrad
T he screen flickers in front of me, casting grotesque images across the walls of my office.
I don’t know how this tape got here, but I know what it means.
A chill creeps down my spine as I see her face, as I see the way she’s laying on a bed.
Her eyes dart about, but there’s a vacancy to them which tells me she’s been drugged.
She’s naked. Completely exposed.
My anger flares to see her like that, to see her on show and knowing that all those figures there are looking at her too. My wife. Mine.
A hooded figure steps in front of the camera, blocking my view of her. I can’t make out his face, but I can tell from the build that it is a man.
“Conrad,” The man says in a strange, distorted voice. “As you can see, we have your wife…”
He turns, creating enough distance that I can see Brynn again.
She lets out a whimper and with horror, I realise what she’s doing.
She’s touching herself? What the fuck?
“Show your husband.” The man taunts, “Show him how much you’re missing him.”
“Conrad,” She says, sounding like a robot.
What the fuck is this? She’s got some sort of bullet vibrator, and she’s masturbating right there, while all those men stand around and watch her. I can hear her cunt, I can see how wet she is.
Oh, I knew I was making her an addict, but it wasn’t so others could enjoy her. It was meant to be for me. Solely me. For my pleasure. My satisfaction.
She lets out a long deep gasp, sinking into the mattress more.
And a man clambers onto the bed. Unlike the others, he’s not wearing a cloak, but he does have a hood on. Only a hood. Coward won’t even show me his face because he knows what I’d do, that I’d hunt him down.
But I can see his damned cock, I can see his entire naked fucking body.
“No,” I snarl, jumping to my feet. I know this isn’t filmed in real time. I know that this had to have happened at least a few hours ago, but I feel it, I feel that dagger in my heart.
The man gets on top of my wife. Her legs are splayed open from where she was touching herself but he pushes them wider.
She shakes her head as he starts touching her. “No,” She says. “Conrad won’t want it. He won’t.”
“Ssssh,” The man abusing her soothes, “Your husband fixed you, right? He fixed you. So now you’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”
“Good,” Brynn whispers in that timid, confused voice.
The man laughs, all the men laugh.
I snarl again, unable to tear my eyes away from that awful vision in front of me.
He grabs her face, forcing her to look into the camera. “Tell your husband Brynn, tell him how good you’re being for us…”
“Good.” She repeats like she has no idea what the fuck is going on right now, like she’s so damn high she can barely string a sentence together.
He drops his hold, then pushes himself into her. I see it. I fucking feel it. His cock taking what is mine, what is only mine.
And the bastard groans, he drops his head, clearly enjoying this moment.
“No,” Brynn whispers again.
“Tell me Brynn, whose cock do you prefer, mine or your husbands?” He taunts as he starts fucking her hard enough that her body jolts, that her tits shake and he leans down, taking a sharp nasty bite of her right one.
“Stop,” Brynn says, sounding tearful. “Stop. Conrad won’t like. Conrad won’t want…”
He grabs her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks. “I’m in charge right now, Brynn. Not Conrad, not your husband.”
“No,” Brynn whispers. “No. I don’t want. I don’t…” Her words turn to sobs as he starts grunting away.
The man steps in front of the camera. “We’ve been taking good care of her, real good care.”
“You bastard.” I yell, even though he can’t hear me. Even though my words make absolutely no difference.
“You want her back, then you do as we say. Eliminate Magnus. Kill your brother, and you’ll have your whore of a wife returned…”
It can’t be. It can’t…. but of course it fucking can. It was that obvious, that damned easy. They take her, and they know they can make me do whatever I want.
She’s too necessary, too essential to my life to act otherwise.
But Magnus - I can’t kill my brother. I won’t.
I grab my phone, dialling the number and he grunts as he picks up. It takes me barely a minute to relay what is happening. Do I like going to him for help? No, but right now, I have no leads, I have absolutely nothing. Besides, they’re making moves against him. All of this is because of him. The least he can do is help me fix the damned situation.
“Well?” I snarl when he doesn’t say anything back.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Magnus replies, as if this were a mere crossword puzzle we were stuck on. “She’s gone, brother. She’s over. The best thing you can do is move on, marry Giselle. You’re lucky no one else knows about this marriage.”
“Move on?” I repeat. I haven’t told him what I’ve done. I haven’t told him that right now, Giselle is in a cell in Oblivion. That I’m making her pay for her part in all of this. I also haven’t told him that Brynn is an Asher, that information feels too precious to spill right now. I need to keep it to myself, because there’s a high likelihood that fact could get Brynn killed. Lucas Asher is a wanted man, after all. He has a lot of enemies. I don’t doubt some of them would be more than happy to eliminate the daughter if that was who they could get their hands on.
“Forget she ever existed.” He states.
“Like fuck I’m going to do that.”
He lets out a snarl, “What other option is there? One bitch is not worth more than our entire family’s legacy.”
“No?” I sneer. “You seemed to feel otherwise when Liliana was lying on a table, half-dead.”
“That’s entirely different,”
“Is it?”
“Liliana is my wife…”
“And Brynn is mine,” I roar back. My wife. My fucking wife. And right now, she’s in danger because of him. He did this, he’s the sole reason we’re in this situation.
But that’s not entirely true, is it? I made Brynn how she is now; I broke her spine, I fucked her head up enough that’s she can’t even defend herself.
I made her a sitting duck. I made her weak, fragile.
And then the wolves came knocking, and I couldn’t defend her.
I hang up, and I throw the phone. I’ve never been helpless. Never felt helpless. I’m a damned Blake for God sake. We make the rules, the world bends to us.
And yet, in this moment, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.