Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Bundy saunters to the red couch opposite me and sits, legs spread, arms stretched across the back of it and eyes lowered on my form, kneeling just a few feet in front of him.
I refuse to look away. The only thing worse than being at this man’s feet is him knowing how afraid I am to be here.
His eyes narrow and the silence stretches on as he takes in my stiff posture. Before I can question what he’s looking for, he nods his head at the man behind me and a blinding flash of pain registers on my temple.
I cower, trying to protect my head as the man wraps his hand around the front of my neck and forces my head back up. Bo’s fierce threats are background noise as I’m forced to stare at Bundy’s smug expression.
He lazily looks in Bo’s direction, then back at me. A slimy grin stretches across his face. “Protective of you, is he? Even after you got him dragged into such an unfortunate situation.”
I say nothing and he tuts, shaking his head. “Shame. It looks like your time away has stolen some of that sweetness you had when I met you. You were so pliant that night you served me dinner.” The corner of his mouth twists into a sick smile. “It’s part of what intrigued me.”
He seems bothered I’m not a puddle, begging at his feet for mercy. Maybe it’s stupid, but now that I know he wants to see me submit, I steel myself to make sure I never do.
Maybe simply enduring is my resistance.
“Those Finch’s rubbed off on you,” he surmises when I stay silent. “Suppose that’s to be expected. After all, you have gotten so close.”
The men titter along the walls, a joke at my expense lightening their mood.
“Where’s Eric?” I ask, trying to steel my voice.
“Not here,” Bundy replies, reaching over to the wooden table at his side and pulling a cigar from the metal box resting on it.
He waves it vaguely in the air. “Sorry, no. I’m sure that would have been a lovely reunion, but he’s rather put off with you right now, considering recent events.
” He places the cigar between his teeth, that evil grin returning to his face. “Recent videos, to be exact.”
My face heats and the low rumble of laughter behind me lets me know that likely everyone in this room has seen the videos of me and the men. I try to appear unfazed but I hate the idea that they’ve seen us like that. Those moments were private. They were mine. Ours.
These men try to shame me for what I’ve done knowing full well that they’d get off to the images later, and the double standard is infuriating.
But…despite hating them, the judgement still manages to seep inside.
It hurts, but anger rears up again in my chest at the feeling, because I know I’ve done nothing wrong. Defiant, I lift my chin as if nothing they do could ever touch me. “Let Bo go, he was never meant to be here.”
I hear him struggling behind me, but his mouth is covered, making his arguments garbled.
I can’t look at him now. I focus only on Bundy and hope that I can somehow negotiate his release. I already ruined his life by getting us here, but I could make up for some of that if they would agree to release him.
Bundy lights his cigar, staring at me for a moment before blowing a plume of smoke into my face. My nose wrinkles at the smell, which makes his eyes shine.
“I know your husband preferred to keep you very much in the dark, although you’ve probably learned quite a bit about him—about us—since your time with the men of Mercy. I assume you know now that he’s a little…tied up in some projects with me.”
“What I know is that he’s a pedophile,” I spit. “I know he got that poor girl pregnant and threatened her. She’s dead now because of him. Because of you, for introducing them.”
He has the audacity to laugh. “Because of me? I don’t control him.
I’m not the monster here, Emma. I’m a businessman.
Unfortunately, business dictates that we sometimes do things that other people consider wrong.
Money is money, and all that.” He raises a brow, tilting his head slightly. “That’s something Eric understands.”
“If he’s gone, then why are we even here?” I ask.
“Well,” he starts, ashing his cigar before pinning me again with his calculating gaze.
“Having you here does quite a few things for me. Mercy has become a rather annoying thorn in my side lately. Now that they’ve become infatuated with you, I’m hoping they’re smart enough to realize that your well-being hinges entirely on their ability to stay the fuck out of my business. ”
His voice cuts by the end but he turns a cold smile at me as if we’re just friends having a little chat. As if I’m not essentially naked with a man at my back who’s just waiting for permission to hit me again.
“Two, I always find the weak spot of any new associate of mine. It’s a great test of loyalty to see how they react when I have something in my grasp that they care for.
You see,” he starts, earnestly leaning toward me as if he really is teaching me something of importance.
“If a man lets me keep something of his and is able to turn off his discomfort over how I treat it, I find that they almost never are able to flip that switch back. It’s a very effective form of conditioning. ”
“Now, Eric did try to keep you hidden from me for a while. Despite his other predilections, he did fixate rather heavily on you.” Again, his eyes lock back on mine, an intensity there that was missing before.
“Normally, I do not use a spouse as my collateral, however…his obsession with your purity and goodness was hard for me to overlook.”
The curl of my lips makes him laugh. “I’ve found that men who indulge in debauchery sometimes use their more innocent spouses to make them feel whole again.
As if being close to someone who is still good at heart absolves them of their sins.
It won’t, and he was a terrible liar. The night we had dinner at your house was hard for him, you know that?
He could feel how I wanted to drag you out to the yard and take you in the dirt.
Mess up that clean, prim-looking dress you had on. ”
If he hopes to ruffle my icy glare, I disappoint him and he smiles further.
“Who could have guessed that gang of Finch’s would ruin it all, hmm?
Take that innocence and smear it. Eric didn’t take that well, seeing his wife ruined.
I, however, see it as something of a challenge, Emma.
Though it would have been nice to get the more docile version of you, I rather like the idea of getting to rip this shield of indifference away.
To take whatever bravery Noah Finch gave you and crush it a little at a time. ”
Hearing Noah’s name on his lips is too much and I feel the snap as it happens. I’m lunging for his throat, this disgusting man who dares to threaten someone as good as Noah. As Noah’s family.
Thick, rough hands latch around my neck, stopping me in my tracks. I can hear Bo struggling harder but I can’t turn my head to see if he’s okay.
A clammy hand grips my jaw, yanking my head up so that his merciless eyes meet mine. “Don’t worry,” he says, smiling as I tremble. “I don’t plan on fucking you while you’re here, my dear.”
His smile touches something awful deep inside me, setting off a fear that feels instinctive.
“But I do plan on letting everyone else. As we discussed, men,” he says, and I go numb, mouth dropping open in shock.
A shattering blow explodes on the side of my face, knocking me to the ground.
Head ringing and vision splintering, terror sets in with a terrible quickness, when a second kick splinters my ribs.
Another to my back.
It finally occurs to me that he’s ordered them to assault me.
Us. I catch sight of Bo, whose blood-crusted body is also being attacked, beaten. The sight sets me off, a fresh sob tearing from my throat because I’m powerless to help him. To even get to him. “He’s not even moving,” I scream.
A boot flies in from the side, connecting once with my face, and everything goes black.