“Yes, sir,” Amber says, breaking out of her spell. Tears still roll down her cheeks.
Byron releases her wrists from the table’s cuffs, then begins tying her arms behind her back with rope. “I have to stand by my word, don’t you agree? I wouldn’t want to be a liar.”
“Why not?” I blurt out. “You’re already a psychopath.”
Byron laughs, waving over Reed from across the room. “Quinn, are you asking to be punished, or are you just stupid?”
I suppose it’s both: I wanted to distract him from punishing Amber, but there probably wasn’t any chance it would work. That’s too much wishful thinking.
Byron finishes tying Amber and hooks his arm through hers. “Reed, Quinn needs a proper lesson. Take her to the dungeon. I’ll see to Amber personally.”
“With pleasure,” Reed replies. Clasping my neck with one hand, he unlocks my cuffs with the other.
“Okay, everyone, back to work!” Byron calls out, and the sounds of sewing machines resumes immediately.
“Please,” Amber moans as Byron leads her out. “It was a mistake! I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t you fucking touch her, you piece of shit!” I add, struggling against Reed’s grip. In response, he squeezes down on my neck, cutting off my breath enough to silence me.
“Shut your mouth and do what I tell you,” he whispers into my ear as he fixes a leash to my collar. “Trust me, you should be thankful you’re coming with me, and not Byron.”
Rising to my feet as Reed pulls me up, I swallow down a surge of acid and several curses. Blinking back my own tears, I walk, listening to the echo of Amber’s wails.
Chapter 8
Whatever this dungeon is he’s taking me to, it better be abona fidetorture chamber — anything less, and it’ll be nothing compared to the guilt I feel over what’s happening to Amber. I hope Reed’s prepared to cause some serious pain — it’ll take a lot to distract me from the torment I’m inflicting on myself.
“What’s he going to do to her?” I ask as we march down a dimly lit hall.
Reed doesn’t answer, except to start walking faster.
“It’s that bad? How can you stand by while he hurts her?”
Reed wheels around, stopping me in place. “Did she tell you what she did? Why she’s here?”
“No. She said it was bad.”
He snorts. “Understatement of the fucking century. You should get her to tell you about it sometime; she’ll probably be your hero.”
“Maybe she will,” I mutter.
When we arrive at the dungeon, I find it isn’t quite what I expected. Mentally I pictured a dark, dirty medieval basement full of torture devices. I’m not surprised to see an extensive collection of whips, canes and paddles hanging from pegs on the wall, as well as shelves of cuffs, rope, chains and other restraints. Benches, tables and several unidentifiable pieces of furniture feature strategically-placed straps and chains to keep a person locked down. Most distressing, however, is an assortment of sex toys: dildos, vibrators, gags and numerous items I’ve never seen before. This place was designed by a true sadist.
And yet, take away the bondage gear and torture implements, and the place would feel inviting: chic lighting and hardwood floors give it a clean, modern appearance. Classical paintings — nudes, of course — hang in golden frames, there’s a well-stocked mini-bar in the corner and a pleasant aroma of cigar tobacco lingers in the air. I get the impression the place was designed not just to torment prisoners, but to entertain the captors.
Reed gives me a few minutes to take in my surroundings; when I turn to him, there’s a grin on his face and a tent in his pants. “What do you think, Quinn?”
“I think you and Byron are sick fucks.”
He laughs as he nudges me forward, moving me to the center of the room. “Yeah? You look excited.”
“I’m not,” I spit, but my heart’s pounding.
“Yeah, you are. Maybe a little nervous. Like a teenager who just got his license.”
“Fuck you.”
He yanks up my hands, pulling them high over my head, and slips the chain connecting them into a manacle hanging from the ceiling. Locking it forces me to keep my arms in the air behind me, a position that strains my muscles and immediately brings sweat to my brow.