My father was the only one to escape his wrath. The rest of us, even my mother, even well into adulthood and married herself, submitted to him. To his rage. And what he did to her when he learned the truth about Theron, it turns my stomach to remember it.
He made me watch, though. Made me bear witness. To teach me that no one can be trusted. That all women are whores, including my mother. That weak men deserve their fate.
And then he made me choose. I was sixteen at the time. Theron fifteen. Theron didn’t know about the beating our mother endured. Didn’t know that my grandfather knew something about him that he would later use as a weapon. I didn’t understand that part, not then.
I think back then, my mother thought that through her submission she paid the price for herself and Theron. Misguided, really. She should have known better.
It’s how I recognized the marks on Mercedes. My grandfather lost control punishing my mother. Someone lost control punishing Mercedes. I see the panic in her eyes now and again if I move too swiftly or raise my hand in a way that she interprets wrongly.
My grandfather had never beaten Theron or me to the point he beat my mother that night. He punished us thoroughly but never like he did her. And I know he punished my grandmother ruthlessly too. I remember her weeping. I can hear it still. Maybe it’s just that he hated women.
I still wonder whether my grandmother’s death was truly an accident.
But the night I learned the truth about my brother, I made a choice. I pledged allegiance to my grandfather. My mother was punished, then banished to one of the cottages. My father was sent away on business he would never return from. My father didn’t protect her from him. When he learned the truth about Theron, he betrayed her to my grandfather. I don’t think he realized what my grandfather would do. What he was capable of. I think he was just so fucking terrified of him that he was no longer a man.
I pick up one of the canes. My grandfather’s preferred one. It’s worn from use. I still remember its bite. We were raised in a similar fashion as many within The Society are. But Carlisle Lawson Montgomery was meaner than most. And what scares me is how many traits I share with my grandfather. How like him I am. Everyone says it, too, even my mother. But I suppose her hate of me is warranted since I chose him over her.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I draw it out, grateful for the interruption. It’s a text from the private investigator I hired. He just emailed me a file.
I reply with a thanks and walk out of that room, switching out the light and thinking I should put a padlock on the door to be doubly sure Mercedes never gets in here. I head back into the forest, grateful for the fresh air, and return to the house, glancing up at Mercedes’s window. The light is on, and she’s standing there watching me. She wouldn’t know where I was. But I do wonder if she’ll do as she’s told and stay away from that outbuilding. It will force my hand if she doesn’t. The thought of stripping her bare and punishing her has its usual effect on my cock. And this is the very reason I can’t touch her. Can’t have her. It’s not because I’m afraid. It’s to keep her safe from the beast within.
24
Judge
I enter Mercedes’s room on Saturday evening to find her applying the last of her makeup. Her signature crimson lipstick. The makeup is just for tonight. It will be removed from her room once we’re gone.
Her back is to me, and I see how the dress drapes to just the right length to hide any scars. Only the unblemished skin of her back is exposed. Her hair is pulled up, and I can see the IVI tattoo, and the empty space above it where her eventual husband’s mark will be placed.
I can’t think about that, though.
Mercedes’s eyes are on me in the reflection. She knew I was watching and waited, letting me. “Too much?” she asks, standing to her full height.
She’s stunning. Black hair swept high, one tendril left to be tucked flirtatiously behind her ear. Skin glowing. Eyes lined heavily. The scarlet dress hugs her the way it was made to. She has brushed gold dust on her shoulders and at the deep V between her breasts that allows for a glimpse of their fullness, but it’s unnecessary. She’s already too beautiful. Too alluring.
“My eyes are up here, Judge.”
I look up to find her grinning like she’s amused. The old Mercedes De La Rosa will make an appearance tonight. All her armor is in place. I had worried about her going back to a Society event, but I know now I don’t need to be. She will dominate.
“Not too much, no,” I start, taking her arm and tucking it into mine. “Stunning. But you already know that.”
“I do, but I love hearing it.” She smiles wide, and I walk her out of the room.
“Vanity is not an attractive trait.”
“Neither is cowardice.”
I help her into the back of the Rolls, and Raul drives toward the compound. “Are we back to that?”
She turns to me, eyes calculating, and I remember what she’d said in the beginning. How she could have any man she wanted. Any time.
I had no doubt then. I have no doubt now.
“It’s just that if you can’t be honest with yourself, well, it’s cowardly, don’t you think? All the why are you here, Mercedes,” she says, mimicking me, “when you can’t admit to yourself what you truly want.”
“Your pussy.”
“Exactly. My pussy.”