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Her eyes are bright with rage and something else, something like hurt. And for as much fight as Mercedes has in her, there is something submissive about her. Or maybe she’s learned sometimes it’s easier to submit.
I go to her, close my hands over her shoulders.
“Don’t touch me!” She shoves me off.
“The texts between you and this man.”
“He’s my friend. My friend!”
“You call him your boyfriend.”
She looks at me like I just sprouted a second head, then chuckles, and it’s that same unhinged sound as when she dumped the bowl of soup on me. The one that warns she’s coming undone. It’s what I want, right? To break her down so I can build her back up.
I shake my head, wrap my hands around the back of my neck.
“Fuck, Mercedes."
“Have you looked closely at those photos, Judge?” she asks, shoving the duvet from her shoulders and standing tall, hands on her hips. She’s still wearing my T-shirt and has a pair of my socks on her feet. She must have gotten cold.
“I have.”
“Did you notice anything?” She raises her eyebrows and looks oddly amused.
“Like what?”
“Georgie?”
“What the fuck kind of name is that anyway?”
She stops. Exhales a quick, short chuckle and studies me, one corner of her mouth quirking upward. “Are you jealous?”
I swallow, look down at her. “I am concerned.”
“Well,” she says, cocking her head and walking around to my side of the bed where she opens the nightstand drawer and fuck me. Because I’d forgotten it. Forgotten I’d dropped the panties I’d pocketed, her panties, in there.
She slips them out now. “Are you sure about that?” she asks, walking toward me and dangling them between us.
I clench my jaw but remain silent.
She smiles, shakes her head, and shoves them into the breast pocket of my vest. “You enjoy those,” she says and bends to slip the thong she’s wearing off. “Have these too,” she says, slapping them against my chest so hard she rocks on her heels when I don’t budge. I take them, her hand slipping through mine as she walks away and climbs up on my bed. “Bring the good doctor in,” she says, settling back against the headboard and setting her feet on her mattress, spreading them wide. “You can both have a good look at what you will never ever fuck.”
16
Mercedes
My heart thumps erratically as I wait for the doctor to finish the exam. I’ve never been so exposed, and it’s humiliating, but it will be worth every second when I get to watch Judge choke on his own words.
He was so convinced of his ridiculous notion that I’m looking forward to disabusing him of it. If he wants to hurl accusations at me and tarnish my reputation, he needs to learn to come better prepared. All of this is because I have a life outside The Society. The audacity to have my own free space, a place to call mine.
If Georgie could only hear how worked up the very mention of his name had gotten this man, he would laugh. We would both laugh, and then Georgie would probably shamelessly flirt with me in front of Judge just to provoke him. God, I miss him and Solana. That’s what I think about to get me through the exam, which really doesn’t take long, but it feels like forever.
The doctor pokes and prods, and then turns to Judge, who’s standing like a sentry next to the bed, his tension palpable. I’m quite certain he’s already concocting ways to punish me for the imaginary results in his head. Although he would deny it, we both know what this test is really for. He can’t stand the thought of anyone else ever having me. But he’ll never admit it. He’s too goddamn proud.
“She’s intact,” the doctor tells him.
Judge glances at me, swallows, and nods. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes.”
The doctor hands me a towel to clean up, and I take it to the privacy of the bathroom. I don’t know why I’m still in Judge’s bedroom, but if I’m being honest, I’m grateful for the sanctuary. I don’t think I’d find a moment of sleep in my room, thinking Miriam might decide to come back and finish me off at any moment.
