Chapter Six #4
Just like I’d been willing to give everything to a brother I didn’t know and a girl I’d only just met. I’d spent my entire life trying to live according to others, but here and now...I had to make the choice to live for me.
And the only way to do that...
I chuckled as realisation struck me like a fist.
Fuck.
I had to let Ward die.
Had to turn my back on everyone and everything.
Transform into who I’d always been.
Without any life raft to go back.
Stepping out of the guards’ imprisonment, I didn’t stop marching until I grabbed a chair opposite Victor and sat down. The guards trailed me, unsure what to do.
“You gonna let him get away with this, Vic? Shoot the cunt,” a guest shouted.
“Don’t!” Ily screamed.
“Do it.” Another guest.
But Victor didn’t say a word or order my execution, so I smiled and not only became an open book, I wrenched out every sin and secret and prepared to dump them on the plate in front of him.
“I’m not a cop.”
He nodded as if he expected me to say something like that. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“The things you heard. The whispers we shared...it was a method of control.”
“Again, I don’t believe you.”
“Okay then...I asked her to play along with me. I told her not to fight back, and I’d get her out of here. I told her I’d been sent to free your slaves by doing whatever was necessary.”
“That I believe.”
“I told her for me to achieve such things, I had to wait for backup to arrive and that meant having to pretend. I confessed that even while I ‘pretended’ to be abusive...I would enjoy it.”
His eyebrows quirked. “And she went along with it?”
“She did.” I resisted the urge to turn around and find her. “She gave me her consent. For all of it. Hence...it was never rape.”
“Interesting.” He toyed with a mini pastry. “If that’s true and you don’t give a damn about her...then this won’t bother you.” Snapping his fingers, he barked, “Roland. Grab Ily and bring her here.”
“Be my fucking pleasure.” Roland shoved the rest of whatever he was eating in his mouth, then wiped crumb-covered hands on his shorts.
Leaving the throng of other cop-detesting guests—all of them lined up and salivating at the thought of my murder—he shot me a wicked grin, then shot down the steps to the grass.
His large belly jiggled beneath his maroon polo, and his khaki shorts strained over his ample backside as he snatched Ily around the elbow and hauled her to her feet.
Possession rose ugly inside me.
I wanted to rip his motherfucking hands off for touching what was mine.
But I stayed silent and stoic as he dragged her into motion.
Peter restrained himself from reacting, but I saw the look between them: the quick bolt of terror and powerlessness, support and commiseration.
Ily tripped as Roland cuffed her around the ear. “Walk properly, or I’ll make you crawl.”
Bracing herself, she figured out her feet and lurched up the deck in his grasp.
Her bare, stunning skin looked sacrilegious beside him.
The cuts I’d made—all hidden beneath plasters and bloody fingerprints marking her as mine—roared our history, all while another man dragged her around like she was his.
Shooting me a scowl full of hate, Roland stalked right to our table, kicked aside the two unoccupied chairs, and tossed Ily toward us.
Her eyes met mine, wide and worried as Roland grabbed her nape and shoved her face first, right between Victor and me. Her golden cuffs and collar clanked against the table, her wrists knocking crockery and scattering the condiment caddy to the floor.
Every instinct roared to slit Roland’s throat with the butter knife, but...whatever new game this was, I had to win.
And I have to keep my wits.
Settling into my chair, I cocked an eyebrow. “Trying to prove that your guests jump at your every command and your jewels have no control, Master Jeweler?”
I stressed his title like he’d stressed my name.
He didn’t seem to care; merely laughed under his breath. “Oh no, my lying friend. Merely trying to see how far you’ll go to prove you’re not what you truly are.”
“You think by tossing Ily on my plate, I’ll what? Confess I’m a cop?”
“I think watching Roland fuck her in front of you will force you to admit the truth. Especially if I promise to stop him if you merely admit that you’re a snitch and a rat and a motherfucking dead man.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Gotcha.”
“So...?” Victor raised an eyebrow. “One last chance, Henri. Will you or will you not admit you’re an officer of the law? Are you from an English force? French? Interpol? Who?”
“I told you.” I refused to look at Ily, panting with pure fear on the table. “I’m not a cop.”
“Roland.” Victor flicked his snuff-watching, necrophiliac friend a smile. “Fuck her.”
“About damn time.” Roland ran sausage fingers down her spine and shoved his hand between her legs.
“Get off me, you sick bastard!”
She screamed.
She thrashed.
Her sudden ferocity knocked Roland off balance, sending him reeling. Swooping upright, she looked as if she’d run, but then with the softest snick of a remote, she gasped, went rigid, then flopped back over the table, twitching and moaning in agony.
Victor held his electricity remote directly against her collar, his blue eyes dead of emotion. “Do I have to do everything for you, Olivan?” He rolled his eyes at Roland.
Roland fumbled with his zipper. “No, bijoutier.”
“I’m surrounded by idiots.” Removing his thumb from zapping Ily, Victor waited a few seconds for her to stop convulsing and then nodded. “Get your cock out and fuck her then. Let’s see how many thrusts it takes Henri to admit he’s—”
“I’m not a damn cop.” Rage accented every word. “And if he sticks his dick in her, I’m going to be extremely pissed off.”
“Why? Because you promised to save her before any other man had a taste?”
“No. Because she’s mine. We had a deal.”
“Deals have a habit of expiring if one party is a conniving snake.” Victor looked idly at Roland as he shoved his shorts down and revealed a stubby, fat cock.
Ily gathered her strength and tried to kick backward, aiming for his knee as he wedged a hand on her nape. “Don’t touch me, you diseased—”
“Shut up.” Roland pressed his naked thighs against her ass. “Or I’ll rip out your ungrateful tongue.”
He bent his legs.
He fisted himself to—
“I told you.” I launched out of my chair and round-housed him right in the face. “I’m not. A. Fucking. Cop!”
One punch.
That was all it took.
He must’ve had a glass chin because one second, he was standing; the next, he was out cold on the deck.
I flexed my fists.
Hitting him felt far too good.
It took every restraint not to start kicking him and never stop.
I needed a release for the churning, burning energy inside me.
Ily soared upright. Her chest rose and fell, her skin flushed. The way she looked at me pinched with betrayal, yet...beneath that betrayal lurked hope.
Hope.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I liked the way she looked at me. I liked that she still believed I was better than what I was...even now.
Breathing hard, I sat back down and raked both hands through my hair.
Focusing on Victor, I said, “Look, I apologise for hitting him but...just listen to me. I’m telling you the goddamn truth.
Ily jumped to conclusions. I never said I was a cop.
It was her little fantasy, not mine. And I went along with it because it made my task far easier. ”
Victor raised a hand and pointed at another guest. “Larry. Fuck her.”
“I’ll do it.” A dark-skinned guy grinned. “I can make her scream far louder than Larry can.”
“Fine.” Victor shrugged. “Someone do it. I’m getting sick of this asshole lying to me.”
Ily stepped back, only for a guard to train a gun on her.
Victor pulled out his own gun from the back of his trousers, waggling it at my heart.
“If you even think of hitting Ian as he takes what I’ve so kindly given him, I’ll shoot you and be done with it.
Sure, I want to hear you admit your lies, but you’re vastly over-estimating my patience to waste any more time on your pathetic little—”
“I admitted I was sent. My task was to find out where your estate was and rescue your slaves.”
Lowering the weapon, Victor watched Ian cross the deck and take up his position behind Ily. I couldn’t watch as he fumbled with his belt and zipper.
“You’re a slippery son of a bitch, I’ll give you that.” Victor scowled. “How can you be tasked to come here and not be law enforcement?”
“I had a different kind of overlord, but...I’m no longer loyal to him.” I spread my hands. “You have my word, Vic, whatever I am...I am not a cop.”
“Who sent you?”
Hesitation filled me. Just a little bit. But enough. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is I let Ily think I was a cop, but I’m not and—”
“It’s true.” Ily flinched, then sucked in a breath. Ignoring the Master behind her as he finally withdrew his cock and pumped himself a few times, she scrambled for fresh lines, believing this was yet another act, another stage. “It’s my fault.” She pressed her hands on the table. “It was me who—”
“Quiet.” Ian shoved a fist against her shoulder blades, shoving her cheek first on the table again. Her collar clanged like a dinner bell.
Her eyes locked on mine.
Bleeding with trust.
Still.
I drew back.
Still?
Even after what I did to her last night?
She still thought I was...good?
What a silly, stupid—
“Do it, Ian,” Victor drawled. “He’s being stubborn. Rape his little crush and—”
“There’s no way for me to convince you that I’m not law enforcement.
” I curled my hands, ready to punch another bastard in the nose.
“I have no badge number to give you or a secret phone number to call. You know yourself that I haven’t been able to ring for help because your technology keeps this place so well hidden.
You’re far too smart to think I’m a threat to you. ”
I narrowed my eyes on Ian, who pressed his cock against Ily’s bare ass.
And fuck, it was hard.
So fucking hard to stay seated and not wrench his dick off with my bare hands.
She closed her eyes.
Her breath turned shallow.