What are you going to tell me, Hank? she thought, wishing she could make herself heard. That I’m a bad wife for leaving you, even though you beat me and hurt me and made me feel like shit for years? That I was wrong to find another man—one who would love me and be kind and gentle and thoughtful and caring instead of harsh and abusive? Well, fuck you. I did what I had to do to get away from you and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Hank leaned over her and pointed a finger.
“I thought you were a good wife but you’re nothing but a whore,” he said, glaring at her. “Look at how you’re dressed—like a slut!” He sneered at the green dress and black bustier and panties she still had on. “I was going to take you back home and give you a second chance…but then I saw what you were doing with that freak! What you were letting him do to you!”
Mia glared back at him, defiantly mute. Even now that he had her taped to a chair and helpless, she refused to let him make her feel bad about herself for her relationship with Storn.
“Well?” Hank demanded. “You got anything to say for yourself? You got any kind of explanation or just a lot of hard looks?”
Reaching for the corner of the tape, he ripped it off her mouth.
Sparks of pain like being stuck with a hundred tiny needles all around her mouth stabbed her flesh and Mia gave a hoarse gasp.
“Start screaming and it’s going right back on,” Hank warned in a low, grim voice. “Now do you have anything to say to me? Maybe you want to apologize for your slutty behavior?”
Mia took a deep breath a glared into his small, mean eyes.
“Yes, I have something to say,” she said, her voice coming out low and hoarse. She couldn’t have screamed even if she’d tried, but at least she could make Hank understand how she felt about him.
“Say it then.” He made a “come on” gestured with one hand. “You haven’t got long for this world, peanut, so you might as well say you’re sorry.”
Say it! screamed the scared little voice in Mia’s head. Say it, say it! Maybe he’ll let you live if you do! Apologize—say whatever you have to in order to make him forgive you!
But there was no chance of that, Mia thought, looking at her ex-husband’s hard eyes. Hank had made up his mind that she was going to die and no amount of begging and pleading would change his mind.
“The time I spent with Storn on the Mother Ship was the best part of my life,” she said, staring up at him defiantly. “It only lasted about a week, but that one week was better than all the years I spent with you, getting hit on and belittled and abused.”
“What?” Hank looked at her as though she was speaking a different language. “Why you little whore—how fucking dare you speak to me like that?
“I dare because it’s true,” Mia said in a low, steady voice. “I love Storn and I’m not sorry for anything I did with him—or let him do to me,” she went on recklessly. “He loves me and that’s a hell of a lot more than you can say. You never loved anybody but yourself, Hank. You’re an abusive asshole and when you’re dead not a single person who really knew you will give a damn.”
“That’s enough!” Hank slapped the tape back over her mouth, but Mia had a feeling of satisfaction. She’d had her say and her evil ex couldn’t un-hear it. She hoped he carried some of her little speech with him always, hoped it would fester inside him like an infection and poison him a little more every day until he died.
“So much for apologies, you whore,” he snarled, glaring down at her. “I guess it’s time we moved on to the punishment you earned yourself. And let me tell you, peanut—it’s a doozy.”
Mia kept her head high, refusing to look frightened. Let him do his worst—she didn’t care anymore.
Hank reached into his pocket and pulled out something thin and shiny that had been looped in a circle. When he shook it out, Mia saw that it was a long length of wire.
“You recognize this, peanut?” he asked, an ugly smile playing around his thin lips. “You know where it came from?”
Despite her determination to be brave, Mia felt her heart grow cold. Slowly, she shook her head.
“Why, it’s a piano wire,” Hank told her, his ugly smile widening. “And can you guess where I got it? You can’t guess, so I’ll tell you,” he continued, answering his own question. “I got it from your Granny’s old piano—the one you made such a fuss over when I wanted to sell it.”