“Tell me you didn’t mouth off to get punished on purpose.”
“I didn’t,” I lie.
“Yeah, you did. I bet you thought it would just be another spanking, not all this,” he says, waving his arms around the dungeon. “But you wanted it.”
“I wanted to help Amber,” I admit, lowering my voice and gaze.
Reed pulls my hair back, forcing me to look at him. “That part I believe, though I don’t get why you care about her. What has she done for you?”
If he’s hoping I’ll mention Amber’s warning about him, it’s not going to work.
“Nothing, but that doesn’t matter. I care about her because she’s suffering and needs someone’s help. Maybe no one ever told you that’s how people are supposed to treat each other.”
Nodding, Reed peruses the canes until he makes a selection. “My dad did tell me that, a while ago,” he says. “But he also used to say people should get what they deserve.” He drags the tip of the cane across my skin, letting me feel its cool touch.
“Was he a corrupt judge, too?” I ask, trying to imagine what kind of fucked up asshole could produce a sadist like Reed.
He laughs, tapping the cane softly. “He owned a pizzeria, not that it’s any of your business. I’m not from a rich family like the Prescotts.”
That’s interesting. “So, are you bitter? Is that it? Because you weren’t wealthy like them?”
He doesn’t answer right away. “Maybe I am,” he says at last, stopping with the cane and coming around to face me. “It sucked being from the shitty part of town, and being reminded of it with every delivery I took to some asshole’s mansion. I hated having to work all the fucking time and not having a life or friends. So I guess you could say I’m a bit bitter, but that’s not why I do what I do now, Quinn. This is about justice.”
“Is it?” I snarl, twisting against my chains. “What about justice for what Lance did to me?”
“Lance? He’s basically dead because of you,” he says, lightly rapping the cane against his open palm. “Do you really think what you did was right?”
If my arms weren’t bound and aching, I’d slap Reed so hard they’d find his teeth in another zip code. “I was defending myself, so yeah, I think it was.”
Then I feel it — the cane smacks my ass hard. I jump, unprepared for the sudden sting, but I don’t cry out. He didn’t swing very hard, and through my pants it doesn’t hurt badly.
“Remember when you told me Lance didn’t suffer?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Do you wish he had?”
It’s a good question. “I don’t know.”
Reed swings the cane again, a little harder this time. “If he assaulted you, wouldn’t you want him to be in pain?”
“Probably,” I admit, my legs starting to jitter as the pain intensifies. “But I’d want him to get arrested and go to jail, not tortured.”
Stepping around to face me, Reed gets in close enough for me to feel his warm breath. “Why not?”
Do I really have to explain this to him? What fucking planet is he from?
“Because if I committed a crime,Iwouldn’t want to be tortured,” I say, trying not to let my exasperation show.
“Really?” he replies, pressing his fingers to my wrist. “I think youdowant to be tortured. You can lie, but your body can’t. Tell me your pussy’s not wet right now.”
“Fuck you,” I say again. Blushing, I lurch against my restraints, but the effort only makes my core clench harder.
“That’s what I thought.” Reed yanks down my pants and spreads my legs apart, revealing my drenched panties. “The way you take a whipping, I had a feeling you were a freak.”
Tears drip down my face — not from pain, but humiliation. “If I’m a freak, then what are you?”
Reed grunts in amusement. “A sadist. I don’t hide it. I accept that causing people like you pain gives me pleasure.”