“I can’t do that. Never been the submissive type.”
He chuckles, though it's not a nice chuckle. It's a chuckle that has chills erupting over my spine. Looking to the side while taking another long inhale of his cigarette, he growls, “These are non-negotiable terms, Isa, and from what I remember, you do the submissive thing very well. It just takes a particular type of man to bring your stubborn ass to your knees.”
“Why?” I blurt out because it’s the first thing that pops up in my head. “Why? Why would you need me? Why wouldn’t you just turn me into the police, or hell… kill me?”
His sharp jaw clenches as he flicks the ash off from the tip of his smoke. “The latter is still up for discussion.”
I swallow. “Well, just get it over with then.”
Bryant laughs, dropping his smoke to the ground and stepping on it with his perfectly polished dress shoes.
“Why would I make this easy for you?” He tilts his head. In an instant, his hand comes up to my neck. He runs the tips of his fingers over the curve of my jaw before hastily gripping onto my throat and shoving me against the wall roughly, my head smashing against it. “You killed my brother.”
5
“No… that was—”
“—My brother…” Bryant repeats, his hand closing around my throat again until I can feel the small bones in my esophagus crunching. “You killed him.”
“You were all sick, demented! He killed himself… he… he…” I can’t finish my sentence.
“Fucked filthy?” Bryant answers for me, tilting his head with a cocky grin on his face. “So tell me, if he had stuck his dick inside you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear instead, would you still have lodged a knife through his jugular vein? Was it just because he didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear? Is it because he fucked you ruthlessly?”
“I said to stop…” I whisper, my throat clogging up from pent-up emotion. “My number one rule was if I said to stop, you stopped...”
“What was our number one rule before you stepped into that tent, Isa?” Bryant edges, coming closer toward me.
I flinch, his grip tightening around my throat. “Answer me!”
“Fuck! That I don’t step inside the tent unless I agree that I have no limits…”
“No. Fucking. Limits.” He releases my throat, pushing me onto the ground. “It wasn’t until he actually fucked you that you decided you had a limit. And then when he didn’t listen, you killed him.” My breathing thickens until I’m reaching for my throat in an attempt to release what feels like fog that has been caught up right at its apex. My chest rises and falls as I look around the room restlessly, trying to find clues. The perfect answer, maybe? I fucked up though. I made the biggest mistake of my life and I’ve lived with the secret since.
“I didn’t…” I shake my head, choking out a hoarse whisper. “Fuck! I didn’t mean to!” A single tear slips over my cheek but I swipe it away angrily. “I didn’t think that would be his kink! Hell, I didn’t even know people had a kink like that!”
“Isa!” Brooke yelled at me and I turned to face her, unlatching from the man’s neck.
I widened my eyes as in to gesture what it was that she wanted, but she ignored me, nudging her head over her shoulder toward the opening of the tent. Rolling my eyes, I swung my leg off his lap before dragging my index finger over the side of his face. “I’ll be back.” Walking toward the door, I muttered, “This better be important,” to Brooke just as I pushed the door open and stepped into the cool air. Brooke walked out a few beats later and started pacing back and forth, her palm pressed against her forehead. “I need more drugs.” Finding out what she needed and that it wasn’t all that important, I shoved her out of my way, ready to walk back inside again. Her hand came out to stop me. “Isa…”
Searching her pleading eyes, I decided to squash whatever anger I had toward her and her crack addiction. “Fine!” I huffed. “Come on.” I turned back around and started heading toward our car where we had a bag of coke waiting for us. She needed it, whereas I just liked to play with it.
Pulling open the door, I gestured toward the passenger seat where she sat down.
“You don’t want any?” she asked, opening the glove compartment and taking out a bible, a razor, and a hundred-dollar bill. Sounded like the start of a great love story.
“No, I’m good. Just hurry up.” I looked up to the tent, hoping no one could see us.
After Brooke had hit a few lines, she got out of the car, so I shut the door, turning to find all the guys had followed us, now they were all standing watching us from the door. I began walking toward them.