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If Maxwell is ever in my hands, I will kill him for what he’s done to Jessa—and for what I now have to do to help her remember.
I’ve been involved in my fair share of torture situations, always involving men who deserved it, in search of information that, very literally, saved lives.
The depths that Maxwell sank to in the name of unrequited love is something I will never be able to fathom.
I could never reduce myself to my absolute base and take advantage of a truly helpless and innocent person.
We’ve followed Matteo and Maxwell for over ten years, and we’ve seen the destruction he is capable of, but this is beyond anything I’ve witnessed.
His evil exists on another level. The damage he’s done to Jessa is deep, and it’s hidden.
My next move needs to be precise.
I know exactly how much time I’ve got alone with Jessa before Jack finds out what I’m up to and comes barging through that door.
I’ve planned out this whole day.
From getting her up early, to exhausting her body by taking her on a hike, to making sure she missed her first meal. Her second meal was a gamble. I wasn’t sure they would definitely miss lunch, but ordering Grizz not to mention the time until it was too late was a good idea.
Hooking her up with Link was a last-minute thought. I knew he would jump at the chance to talk to one of the two people who can out-hack his entire team. I also knew she wouldn’t pass up the chance to get a glimpse of our comms room.
Dinner was my last piece. If I was going to get as close as possible to the same conditions I saw on that video, I needed her starving by dinnertime. The fact that she had a relatively easy day, and that I showed her a more passive side of me, lowered her guard. Her anxiety dropped, and as a result her hunger came raging back at the worst time for her: when she hadn’t had the chance to eat all day.
I ate dinner in my office and watched them through the security cameras as their conversation became relaxed and she ate her second helping.
Then I waited until she showed signs of slowing down.
There’s a genuine kindness in Jessa when she isn’t trying to protect herself or those around her. I knew that playing the guilt card would force her to eat that dessert for hernew friend. Then her exhaustion would take over in the form of a final sugar crash, and I would have her right where I wanted her.
And here we are.
Reaching down deep, I allow my dominance to rise to the surface. As if awakening from a long slumber, my demons stretch out, shaking off the dust and decay as I step into the room behind Jessa and close the door, welcoming us into the dark.
She says my name so softly, it’s almost a whisper, but I can’t allow her to reach me. I can’t acknowledge my own culpability right now.
I have one chance to help her pull her memories out, and if I give her any slack, this will fall apart.
The click of the light switch echoes into the cold room. I’ve purposefully lowered the temperature to make this as uncomfortable as possible. I know being warm is important to her. She’s mentioned more than once how much she hates to be cold.
Only the back of her head is visible to me right now, and I take this chance to let my expression drop. My anger at the situation is palpable. The situation Maxwell has forced on Jessa.
Her whole body deflates in realization as she turns to look at the bench, and my stomach knots at the thought of what’s coming next.
Knowing people is what I do.
Knowing their thought processes, what they need, and what they are about to do is my job, and I already know what she’s going to do before she does.
I can already tell she’s going to fight, and I’m proud of her courage.
She must be scared. But not scared enough. Yet.
Taking a step into the room, she places some distance between us. It’s a superficial move. It will only buy her a false sense of protection.
Then she turns to face me, and I paste my indifference back across my face.
“You d-don’t need to d-do this,” she stutters, and I notice a small change in her. She’s ever so slowly closing herself off. This is the look I should have noticed on the first night in the interrogation room.
If I knew then what I know now, this could have been over days ago. I never would have sedated her, sending her and her possible memories off to sleep.
