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No. I don’t want her in this room. Within arms reach of him.
Panic sweeps through me in the form of cold sweat. De Trolio forces me up into a stand. Cesar appears, shoving Delphine along from behind.
The clock starts. Our sixty seconds. Despite my trepidation, the second she’s in front of me, I can’t help myself.
Fuck everybody who stands and watches.
I pull Delphine into my arms, turning us around so my body serves as a buffer. Anything to keep him away from her.
Otherwise, it’s intense relief consuming us both. Just to be back in each other’s arms, we’re shaking and clinging to each other.
I cup the back of her head and tilt her face up to mine. Our brows touch and tears wet our skin. Whose tears, we don’t know or give a fuck.
“Phi, you should’ve gotten out. You were supposed to get out,” I rasp. “Why didn’t you get out when you had the chance? Why couldn’t you listen?”
“I knew they had you. I knew you were hurt. Oh my god, Jon… what have they done to you?” She clings to any part of me she can. Her hands slide up and down my battered body as if she’s hoping to heal the bruises and wounds. My broken hand makes her gasp in open horror.
I yank it out of her grasp. “Never mind that. I want you to go. The next chance you have to get out. Get the fuck out. Do you hear me, don’t worry about me—”
“Time’s up!” Lucius interjects in a tone that’s overjoyed. Brighter than his usual moody croak. “As touching as that was, I’m afraid my heart has run out of compassion. Say your goodbyes, lovebirds.”
“Wait… WAIT!” I shout as Cesar wrenches Delphine away.
“Jon, I love you!” she cries out, stumbling to keep up with the asshole.
“I love you too, Phi. Remember what I said. Get the fuck out the second you can—”
“That won’t be happening,” Lucius says smoothly, plucking his cigar from his lips. “Delphine Adams, our newest product for sale at the Mill. You won’t believe the kind of business she’ll attract. Plenty of guys around the city would love a chance to fuck that uppity little ass of hers. Remember all those pencil skirts she used to prance around in? Not so fucking cocky now, are you?”
He and the others break out into a sickening chorus.
“This is between us! This has nothing to do with her, you fucking fat freak!” I roar, in another outburst that has me throwing myself at him. Fists raised, I don’t give a fuck if they shoot me, maim me, or do whatever else to me—I need his blood on my hands.
De Trolio intercepts me. I crash into him instead. My body against his like a football play. We tumble to the ground. The laughter cuts short. Delphine screams. Lucius goes still, watching me wrestle De Trolio on the floor.
It’s a losing effort. Cesar and the other guards in the room point their weapons at me.
Lucius holds up his hand to silence the commotion. “What’s the matter,scarafaggio? You’re upset your precious love is going to become a whore? Is that it? You want me to… spare her?”
I grind my teeth. “She has nothing to do with this. This is between us. Fight me like a fucking man. Involving an innocent woman who has nothing to do with this? You’re a fucking joke—a pathetic, disfigured freak who’s angry because his—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Lucius jabs a finger at me so hard he nearly drops his cigar. His beady eyes flash and his face purples. “Don’t you fucking talk about disfigured. I’m not done with you yet. By the time I’m through, you just might be just like me. But you know what? You’re right. This is between me and you. It has nothing to do with her. How about I let her go?”
Delphine’s head whips in his direction, her brows knitted. Even she knows it’s a trick.
“On one condition, of course,” says Lucius. His evil smirk returns. “I want you to beg,scarafaggio. Beg me for it. Beg me for mercy. Beg me to let her go. Ask me nicely, and I just might do it. Get down on your fucking knees and tell me how I’ve won. Tell me I’m your god.”
Of course this would be his demand.
He’s promised I would—I’d be forced to beg him for mercy.
An egotistical monster like Lucius feeds off shit like this. It plays into his false image of himself, allowing him to pretend deep down he’s not an insecure, puny excuse for a man.
If that’s what it takes. I’ll do anything.
My hands clench into tight balls and I give a curt nod. I bend onto one knee, then the other. At his mercy, in a completely subservient position, I glare up at him more humiliated than I’ve ever been in my life.
Lucius drinks in the sight. I’ve never seen him grin so wide, puffing on his cigar.
