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“I’m just curious.”
“I’m Saint’s chosen.” She knows this. She and my mother were so worried about me not bleeding at the vow ceremony.
“Yes but they all three fuck you, no?”
I stiffen in my chair. My pulse thrums in my neck. “A Lord is allowed to share his chosen with whoever he wants,” I add softly. Everyone knows this. It’s not a secret. It’s another way for the Lords to throw their power around. But I actually love Haidyn and Kashton. They’ll always hold a special place in my heart.
“Are you being cautious?”
My frown deepens. Why the fuck does she care about this shit? But her question has me thinking…I haven’t been on birth control since I’ve been here.
“I doubt Saint would be happy if one of the others knocks you up.” She goes on.
“Oh, no that wouldn’t happen.” I shake my head.
She tilts her to the side. “And why is that?”
“They…” I trail off not wanting to finish that sentence.
“I see.” She writes something down in her notebook. “They don’t fuck you vaginally.”
Why does that sound more vulgar than anything Saint has ever said to me? I bow my head, refusing to say anything to that and avoid eye contact. If my mother knew what I allowed the Spade brothers to do to me she’d be so ashamed.
“Would you say that you care about Kashton and Haidyn the same as you do for Saint?”
“What kind of session is this?” I ask defensively.
“It just seems that they are willing to risk their lives for you, and I’m trying to figure out why.” She places her manicured nail on her chin. “It can’t be sex. Kashton and Haidyn have their own chosens. I’m wondering what you offer them that they can’t get elsewhere.”
I glare at her, trying to decide her angle. Is she questioning me or them? She knows that they won’t tell her shit. So I’m guessing she thinks I’m the weakest link. Family recently dead, me freshly branded. The newest victim to Carnage. She thinks I’ll spill information on them. It’s probably their fathers wanting to know, and I refuse to give it to them. I’m not a snitch. And no matter what they’ve done to me, they’re all I have left. I know if something were to happen to Saint today, Haidyn and Kashton would never abandon me.
I cross my arms over my chest and sit back in my seat. The cold metal is making me shiver even through my shirt.
“Show her.” She calls out.
I frown, looking around. “Show me what?” Who is she talking to? Getting to my feet, I turn and stare at the two-way mirror.
Just then I realize it looks black because the light is off in the other room. It comes on, lighting up the space, and I see a man hanging from the ceiling. His arms are cuffed above his head, secured to a chain. He’s shirtless, but his jeans sit low on his hips, showcasing his abs and deep V. His body stretched while he gently sways back and forth, shoes dragging across the concrete floor.
His muscular body is taut. Blood runs down his arms from his cuffed wrists, his bare chest is covered in sweat, and white sticky pads on his abdomen have wires running to a machine that sits on a roller cart next to him. He’s got a black hood over his head, hiding his face, but the Lords crest branded on his right pec is clearly visible.
The door opens to the opposite room, and someone new enters with a black cloak and Lords mask on. I place my hands on the glass. “Who is that?” I ask, licking my lips nervously.
She doesn’t answer.
My breathing picks up when the man in the mask comes to a stop by the machine and flips on a switch. “Ready for your session?” I hear him speak to the man in the hood.
He doesn’t move or answer. He’s either passed out or gagged.
“Let’s turn it up this time. I think your last session was too easy.” He turns a knob, and the lights dim as the man hanging starts to shake, his legs kicking, muscles straining, and I realize that the patches on his body are electrocuting him.
“Stop!” I say, slamming my hands on the glass. “What the fuck is he doing?” I turn to look at the woman. “Why is he doing that?”
“Actions have consequences, Ashtyn.”
What the fuck is she talking about? I turn back to look through the two-way mirror, and he turns the knob off. The man sags in the cuffs. His chest is now rising and falling quickly as he breathes heavily into the hood. His abs contract as he continues to sway back and forth.
The man in the Lord’s mask turns it on again—higher this time—and the man’s body spasms. I bang my fists on the glass. “Stop. Stop. You’re going to kill him.”
