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The crowd laughed as I stared at the blood on the platform, red streaks on the chair, and what looked like a tooth on the smooth ballroom floor. My stomach heaved, and I vomited. Cal backed up as it splashed onto the floor, and the ladies in the front row all broke out their fans.
“Clean this up.” Cal motioned over some attendants who used dirty, bloody towels to mop up my mess. He slapped my ass. “Feeling better? Where was I? Right. The final show. Bring the goodies over.”
An attendant wheeled a small cart to the edge of the platform. It was littered with various tools—some bloody, some untouched, and none of them pleasant. Sin’s eyes were wide, terror written there like I’d never seen before.
Cal continued talking, the speakers booming his voice across the crowd. “You can do this,” I whispered to Sin.
He met my eyes and calmed as I held his gaze, his face returning to its cold mask. To show him I could take it, I stepped to the chair and sat down, resting my wrists in the shackles.
Cal turned around. “Oh, no, no darling Stella. The chair is for Sin.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
STELLA
I SHOOK MY HEAD, my ears ringing as if a bomb had gone off.
“Look, she doesn’t believe me.” Cal laughed and took my hand, ripping me up from the chair. “See? Not you, gorgeous.” He turned to Sin. “You.”
The room fell silent as Sin looked down his nose at Cal. Then he smirked and whipped off his jacket.
The crowd cheered as Sin sat down with dramatic flair and placed his wrists and ankles in the restraints.
“Could you at least tell her to go easy on my face? A, it’s a handsome face, and B, I want to look good enough to marry your daughter.”
Cal roared with laughter as an attendant snapped Sin’s shackles closed. “You are one cheeky asshole, you know that?”
I rested my hand on the back of his chair. Maybe it would stop the room from spinning. Sin tilted his head back and met my eyes. A quick nod, and then he was facing forward again, smiling.
“You amaze me, Counsellor. You really do. Do you have any idea how Bob quaked and cried? How much Red begged Brianne to go easy on him? Did she go easy on him, y’all?”
The crowd laughed, and several cries of “no” rang out.
“Indeed, she did not. It seems Red underestimated her. But here’s the rules. Stella can visit any harm upon you she sees fit, with any of these tools I have at her disposal. Like I said, love and hate, same coin. You understand, right Sin?”
“I understand that you better have lunch ready when I get out of these restraints. I’m going to work up a real appetite.” Sin’s voice, confidence dripping from the words, boomed over the crowd without the benefit of a microphone.
“Damn. That’s my man. I’d like to shake your hand right now.” He glanced to the shackles at Sin’s wrists. “Too bad on that one, my friend.” Cal smiled. “Rules are simple, Stella. You can’t kill him. He can’t lose parts.”
“The same rules.” I gripped the back of the chair harder.
“Exactly, the same rules. It’s up to you. Have your revenge. All I ask is that you make it good enough for our entertainment. Brianne and Gavin sure did.” With that, he hopped off the platform and took a seat between two redheads, throwing an arm around each of them.
The room quieted until I could hear my breath, the steady pump of blood in my ears. I walked around to Sin’s front.
“Do your fucking worst, cunt.” He flashed his eyes at me. No fear. Instead, relief sat in the crease of his mouth, the turn of his chin.
“Damn. I love this guy.” Cal stage-whispered.
So do I. I stepped down to the cart of tools. I clasped my hands in front of me, my fingers shaking and frozen.
“Pssst.”
I turned toward the sound. Dylan sat two rows back, leering at me. I ignored him and went back to perusing the weapons. A scalpel was coated with blood, and a larger pocket knife was, too. The claw hammer had bloody fingerprints along the handle, and a vicious-looking set of needles sat neatly to the side.
“Come on, Stella.” Cal’s tone lost some of its showman quality, impatience seeping through. “I’m beginning to feel a bit peckish. It’s after lunch. Get to work.”
I glanced up to Sin. His face was calm, his body relaxed. This felt right to him. He was used to someone he loved bringing him pain. Not just the back of his hand, but the wounds that went so much deeper. He was calm in the face of what he knew, that love was pain. Would I be that to him? Someone he trusted who ultimately made him suffer because of the Acquisition?
