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I only glared at him.
"Now." The firmness of his tone made it evident that he wouldn't tolerate disobedience.
I got up and walked slowly to the bedside.
He freed one hand and reached out to my sash, pulling me to the edge of the bed before untying it with ease as he looked up to me. "Do you want me to fuck you again?"
"Before you humiliate me?"
The sash fell to the floor and my robe hung open.
He rolled onto his side. "Maybe I’ll be too exhausted from fucking you to be able to act on how much you holding a gun will turn me on." He kissed my stomach while side-eying me for reaction. As usual, my body screamed to be fucked again and again by him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sasha
It was a long and quiet drive. I'd had amazing sex with a complicated man who'd been both cruel and kind to me. A man who was the charming stranger from the coffee shop, but also the murderer who forced me to kill my own family.
Beyond a gate, and miles down a dirt road at a remote building, we finally parked. I remained in my seat and stared ahead. I couldn't take another life, no matter what punishment may come. I wouldn't. Even if the charming man from the coffee shop abandoned me, and in his stead was the man who would publicly violate and humiliate me, I still couldn't.
He circled around and opened my door. "It is time, Sweet One."
I swallowed, remaining resolute in my stance. "I won't."
Kinder than I'd expected, he leaned against the door and turned his head to the building. "Mercy for heinous acts is villainous. Fear of taking life makes one guilty of the innocent lives harmed by lack of action." He seemed to think of himself as a heroic vigilante for killing his enemies and thus saving others from possible suffering.
"It's wrong." I stared ahead, unmoving.
His hand went to my chin and forced me to face him. "I did a lot of research on the man inside. So many women’s lives were ruined by his violence and violations of underage girls. Even his own daughters and other family, apparently. And now there's a toddler granddaughter living in his home."
I wouldn't want someone like that near me. "Maybe a threat would stop him, or public shame."
He shook his head. "This is why your countrymen commit atrocious acts. You have a need to excuse despicable behaviors and turn your head to wrongdoing." He came closer. "I have killed everyone I witnessed harm or kill my family and made me raise my siblings. I wouldn't have had to if more people had courage to eliminate such evil. And you won't make excuses for them anymore."
I didn't know how to respond as he forced my stare. The more I learned of him, the more I could forgive his actions, but he was still wrong.
"I'm going to give you a choice."
My brow furrowed at the return of the sick game. "I don't want any of your choices. I won't play along." I jerked my head away, doubtful anything I said made a difference.
He leaned over me and unsnapped my seatbelt. "Shall I carry you?" When he grabbed my arm, I slapped his hand away. It didn't stop him from taking hold of me and leading me into the building where several men wearing all black stood, as well as a man in underwear tied to a wooden chair with a blindingly bright light above him. A sack covered his head, but I'm sure it looked as badly beaten and bloody as the rest of him.
I stayed as distant as Armon allowed, watching as a man gave him a pistol. Armon returned to me and placed it in my hand that hung straight at my side. "What if we have a little girl?" he whispered, placing a palm to my stomach. "What would you do if someone hurt her because no one had the courage to stop them? You are probably already pregnant. Would you want this person harming your child?"
The reality of the situation set in. I could be pregnant. He actually and certainly did want a child with me. But I might not be. "Get your wife to do it so you can protect your baby if that means so much to you."
"That's not my child," he growled. He chose his moments to share information. This was the wrong time to feel any satisfaction in the matter, though. He rubbed my stomach. "This will be." He tightened my grip on the handle, still pointing the gun downward.
The thought of why he intended to have a child with me surfaced. It wasn’t me he cared about. Anything he did for me was about his wife and how he could hurt her. Even a child had only one purpose. "You just want to get even with her and the world."
At that, his eyes darkened. "What I want is to bend you over and fuck you while you aim that gun at the despicable man and kill him."
I scanned the room of men. No. At least I could have an opportunity not to be humiliated. "No."
"Then let's not quarrel in front of my men. They don't want to remain if there isn't a show." He let go of the gun which remained in my hand. Then he backed away. His hand reached out to another person, who handed him another pistol. "I'm going to give you a choice."
Another sick game. He charmed and tormented, but always came back to his twisted choices in between. My hand trembled as I finally raised it. There was no way I could kill him, but I aimed my pistol his direction anyway.
