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“NOOO! DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER!”
I’m driven insane with horror. My body twists violently against the binds. The leather straps cut into me with little to no give, but I buck and push back anyway. I pull and bend and fight ’til one strap busts, and then another. I’m leaping out of my chair in a rush of rabid, distressed breaths and screams of her name.
The men pile on top of me again.
But I fight some more. With everything I have. Every last ounce of strength I have left.
On the other side of the glass, the depraved scene continues. The man’s grabbed a handful of her curls and ordered the other guy to unbind her. He’s pushing her down to her knees.
I’ve never felt so fucking useless.
I fight harder, throwing fists. Both of them, despite the left being broken and disfigured. The cattle prod digs into my back and electricity fries my spinal cord. I twitch and jerk, adrenaline pumping, my teeth gritted as I refuse to be beaten down.
The one with the cattle prod gets his face smashed into the concrete floor. I climb over him, wrestling with the other, throwing more jabs at his skull. Any part of him I can. They’ll damage me permanently for this. Maybe finally remove a body part.
Blinded by homicidal rage and sickened horror, I don’t give a fuck.
I have one mission and one mission only in the moment—getting to Phi.
It’s as I knock out the second guard and push myself up that it dawns on me De Trolio hasn’t interfered. He’s let the brawl carry out in brutal, bloody fashion. His expression unreadable, he gestures to the glass pane with his pistol.
I’m heaving for more air, gulping down what I can take in. I turn my head to follow his direction.
Delphine’s staring right at the glass, too. She’s still on her knees. The dipshit still has his fist in her hair. They’re both staring at the glass, at us.
She can see me now. They’ve turned off the feature on her side too.
“Phi!” I pant. “Phi, can you hear me?”
“Jon!” she cries.
“Phi… Phi… fuck… why are you here? Why’d you let them… you weren’t supposed to be here.”
“But she is. She is here now, and she’s here to stay. Just like you. You’re making her life a lot more difficult,” De Trolio says calmly. “Cesar, continue. Keep going ’til he sits obediently in his chair and watches the treat like a good little captive. I want her to see him as she sucks you off. I want him to see her as she does it. Make it really hurt.”
My good fist, busted knuckles and all, clenches shut tight. I almost tackle De Trolio and swing on him. The urge is so strong, I’m shaking, heaving another breath into my lungs.
Then I look back at the glass, to the other side where Delphine’s kneeling.
If I punch De Trolio, he’s going to punish her.
They’ve found my weakness. They can exploit it to make me do anything.
He’s won. We’re all dead. It’s over.
I stumble backward into the chair, sinking down.
De Trolio gives a pleased nod. “Cesar, go on. Make sure he understands. Every time he refuses to obey, we’ll make use of our newest little toy.”
The dipshit doesn’t need to be told again. He tightens his hold on Delphine’s hair, giving it a savage tug that makes her fall forward on her hands and knees. His laugh follows, taunting in a way that tells me he’s enjoying every second.
Already I hate him more than any other tormentor I’ve dealt with since I’ve been here.
He’s put his hands on Delphine. He’s relishing the chance to violate her, laughing at her as he unzips his fly.
“Remember that night?” he asks. “I had you on your hands and knees then, too. You begged me like a sad little bitch. Offered to give me your fucking bank card.”
The other guard laughs at that.
