AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the light, and my gaze locks on to a familiar face.
"Oh, my God, Theron," I murmur in relief. "You scared me."
"Did I?" There's a strange undercurrent of tension in his voice, and the amusement I'd expect to see is absent from his features.
"What are you doing here?" I glance over his shoulder, wondering how he even knew I was out here.
"You know, I've been asking myself that very same question since I returned." He slowly shuts the door behind him and seals us into the room together. "I thought I had a way back in with you, but Judge ruined that for me. The same way he ruins everything."
There's a darkness in his eyes that makes my skin break out in a sweat, and for the first time since I've met him, I'm wondering if I can really trust him. He seems different tonight. More amped up. His pupils huge. Something’s not right, and I don’t like it.
"I'm sorry about Judge." I attempt to pacify him. "If he took it out on you—"
"Don't be sorry." Theron smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You can still help me. It just has to be a different way."
"I don't understand."
"No, I suppose you wouldn't." He sighs. "Truth be told, I would have gladly taken you for a wife. That could have solved both our problems. But Judge has never been one to let me have nice things. After all of his posturing, I suspect he's found a way to ruin that for me too."
"What are you talking about?" I try to back up a little, but I bump into the table.
"He fucked you, didn't he?" Theron spits the words out.
When my face blanches, it's obvious I don't have to answer. I already gave it away.
"I thought so." His eyes drift to the wall beside him, where there is a selection of leather whips and chains I didn't notice before.
My stomach lurches as he drags a finger over the length of one of the whips.
"No offense, Mercedes." He stares at the collection absently. "You're a very beautiful woman, but I’d never be able to enjoy my brother's leftovers as a wife. So now he’s forced my hand, and I realize I’ll have to use you in a different way."
"Theron, please," I choke on the words as I eye the door behind him. "I don't know what's going on with you and Judge, but it has nothing to do with me."
"That's where you're wrong." He looks at me, eyes shifting over me rapidly. "It has everything to do with you. It occurred to me during his display of barking and growling that he actually cares about you. And I have to say, it surprised me because Judge hasn’t ever cared about anyone but himself.”
“He doesn’t,” I protest. “I promise you he doesn’t. He’s proven that over and over again.”
Theron simply shakes his head as if my argument is too weak to consider. “You don't know how long I've waited for an opportunity like this. I never even thought it possible, truly. But here you are. The one weakness Judge can't deny. What better way to destroy him than to aim where it will hurt the most."
"Theron, please..." My words die off as he pulls the whip from the wall and turns his attention to me.
Fear streaks through me as I shake my head violently, recalling the pain. The open flesh, the scars. I can't go through that again. I won't survive it. I’d rather die than feel that level of agony again.
“It could always be worse,” he tells me. “You think I’m the monster, but you don’t have any idea what he’s truly capable of.” Theron steps forward then, cracking the whip against his hand before he raises it into the air and lasers in on me. "I'm only sorry that it has to be you."
Instinct has me reaching for a weapon from the table. I don’t even know what it is until I raise my arm and catch a glimpse of the long wooden paddle. It’s heavy and awkward, and it brings back the memory of that fucking lamp. The lamp I smashed over the courtesan’s head.
She died. And I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to kill Theron, but I know I’m past the point of pleading with him. Something in him has snapped. His darkness has taken over, a darkness I didn’t even know lived in him.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” My lip trembles as I try to skirt around him, moving toward the wall. “Don’t make me.”
He snorts as if the thought is so amusing. As if I ever could.
“Look, if you want to get back at Judge, I can help you,” I lie. “We can figure something—”
Crack.
The whip lashes out at me so fast I don’t even have time to react before it cuts into my wrist and the heavy paddle clatters to the floor.
