Page 938 of Lessons in Cruelty

“You saw the belt. The mark on Haven’s neck. You asked if you’d interrupted something, even when you knew you had. Yet you stayed. You stayed, and you drank everything Haven poured even though it was more than you wanted.”

He stops an arm’s length away. Close enough that I can smell their sex on him.

“How often does someone give you more than you wanted?” His voice drops, almost gentle as he murmurs, “When has anyone ever given you the one thing you truly want?”

The words fuck you lurches up my throat and lodges there, held in place by Bastian’s dark eyes, and the knowing smile ghosting his full mouth.

“Kai?”

Leather creaks as Kai gets off the couch. I don’t dare look away from Rooke in case he makes a grab for me, so all I have is my peripheral vision until Kai comes close enough to unblur.

“Bring me the belt.” Rooke says it quietly, watching my face the way he’d watch a text he was translating.

My mouth is suddenly dry, the hackles on the back of my neck rising.

“I’m leaving,” I croak, with all the authority of someone asking for a gas station receipt for their energy drink and reheated pizza slice.

“You’re sitting down, Fox.”

And then the most fucked up thing yet happens.

I sit down again.

On the chair that’s been facing the couch since before I took my beanie off.

Rooke didn’t drag this chair over so I’d be warm. It was for this...whatever the fuck this is.

He’s staged a theater for an audience of one.

Kai’s bare feet slap on the wooden floorboards as he returns with a belt dangling from his fist. I swivel to keep an eye on him, turning in my seat when he goes to stand behind the chair.

“Hands.”

I could break his nose from here. I’ve done it to bigger men in worse positions. And I consider doing it, if only to prove that I still have some fight left in me.

But I guess I don’t.

I could blame the long drive. The whiskey.

But it’s my fucking curiosity that gets the better of me. Rooke’s obviously concocted something, and I’ll be fucked if I leave without finding out what.

The scheduled message on my phone is still counting down. If I don’t cancel it by six, three people will receive this location and Rooke’s invitation.

I am not careless.

I am not stupid.

But apparently, I’m just curious enough to make those distinctions irrelevant, because why the fuck else do I put my hands behind the chair and let Kai belt them to the chair slats?

He’s unnervingly good at this. Makes me think he’s done it a couple of times before.

The smell of weed rolls off him as he leans in, mouth by my ear.

“Gotta make sure it’s tight, don’t we, officer?” He yanks the belt hard enough to make me clench my jaw. Then his thumb slips beneath the leather for half a second before he draws away. “Wouldn’t want you getting loose.”

He claps a hand on my shoulder as he heads back to the couch. Haven giggles when he collapses beside her and starts nuzzling the side of her neck.

I test the leather cuffs once, suppressing a wince when they cut into my skin.