“Yes,” I reply, confident though my voice cracks, parched from thirst. “I suffered for crimes I never committed. I’d say it’s enough.”
“You don’t have any regrets?” he continues, reaching for my ass and rubbing his thumb across the sensitive welts.
“Oh sure I do,” I say, emboldened by the adrenaline still flowing. “I regret not screaming from that window for all to hear that Lance tried to rape me. I regret not carrying mace in my purse. But I don’t regret what happened to Lance, not at all. He deserved much worse. I’m glad he’s never waking up because of me.”
Reed gets up from the table and gets dressed. He says nothing. I watch as he straightens his outfit, then retrieves a bundle of rope from a shelf along the wall. I sigh as he sets it down beside me, not needing to guess what’s coming next. He frees my hands from the cuffs, at long last, but I’m only loose for a moment before he uses the rope to tie them, this time behind my back.
He doesn’t stop there, though: moving like a machine, he wraps and knots the cords until he’s formed a tight harness around my chest, locking my arms together. He cinches the rope around my waist uncomfortably, then loops it back between my legs until it digs into my still sore pussy.
“Hey, what the fuck?”
“Shut up,” he growls. “I thought I’d misjudged you, but I was right the first time. Lance may have been an asshole sometimes, but nobody deserves to lose their life like that.”
“Please,” I snort. “You didn’t know Lance. Not really. You weren’t there that night. So don’t act like you have any idea.”
Reed glares at me, scowling. He opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again, and resumes his work with the rope. I try struggling out of his grip, but he pulls my hair, forcing me to arch my back and crane my neck. He ties off my hair, then attaches the rope to the one around my waist, ensuring I maintain the stringent position.
“Open your mouth,” he barks.
With my head pointed at the ceiling, I can’t tell what he’s about to do, but I know it’s nothing good. I keep my lips pressed together until he holds my nose so I can’t breathe. I hold out as long as possible, but soon I have no choice but to open up. As soon as I do, Reed stuffs a thick cloth inside and ties it off around the back of my neck. Though it feels dry and scratchy, at least it tastes clean.
To complete his work, he attaches one more rope to the one tied around my waist. He gives it a sharp tug, which I feel through my pussy.
“Move it, bitch.”
Grunting a curse, I slide off the table, careful to get a good grip on the cold floor. My bare feet are practically numb, making them the only part of my body not in some kind of pain. When I feel the pull of the rope again, I start walking. My heart races — I can’t see where I’m going. At best I can hear Reed’s footsteps, but it would be easy for him to let me walk into a wall. If I stop, I get another stinging yank from his leash. I have no choice but to follow as best I can.
He leads me back to the prison block, and presumably my cell, though it’s not like I can really tell. When the march ends, he picks me up and sets me down on the bed, then gives my crotch one last tug.
“Sleep tight, Quinn,” he says, and after a second I hear the cell door shut behind him.
After everything I shared with Reed, how can he still take Lance’s side? What is it going to take to make him understand? I thought I had gotten through to him, but clearly it wasn’t enough. Yet, he believes my side of the story now, so there must be a way to bring him around.
I just wish I knew what it was.
Chapter 10
Word spreads quickly that I fucked Quinn. We were both too loud. Under the right circumstances I wouldn’t mind, but I’ve never been known to abuse my position. Nobody believes Quinn actually wanted me, or that I wanted her too. The guys expect me to break girls like Quinn and make them little more than pliant playthings, but Quinn didn’t need to be twisted — she’s already submissive, at least when she wants to be.
They weren’t there in that room — they didn’t see the way her body quaked, as if awakened from a spell. It’s pretty obvious to me she’s never explored her darker sexual needs; she’d likely be a lot of fun for someone like me to dominate, use and humiliate, knowing she was getting off on it too.
But she’s such a fucking cunt. Zero sympathy for Lance and his family, whatsoever.
You didn’t know Lance. You weren’t there that night.
I hear her words again and again. She doesn’t know Lance and I were — are — friends. Telling her would clear up some confusion, but my mind balks at the idea. In fairness to her, hearing what Lance did that night makes me hesitant to reveal my connection to him. I hate to admit it, but I wasn’t surprised by her account. Lance had demons; I knew this full well. However, as far as I was aware, he had never gone anywhere near that far, especially after getting his ass kicked at Champs & Tramps. I thought he’d learned his lesson that night, but maybe it only made him worse.
Though I keep as far away from Quinn as I can for the next few days, Corbin, Edwin and Hunter keep snickering every time we’re within three feet of each other. Even Byron can’t hide a smirk.
“You gonna tap that again soon?” Corbin asks at lunch, bits of egg salad sandwich stuck in his long, black beard.
“Mind your own fucking business,” I snap. I should try to keep my cool, but I’m sick of his needling.
“You should let us have a turn then. She’d be a lot less bitchy if she got some good dick more often.”
I sigh, shaking my head. There was a time when I’d be happy to brag about my work, but I’m not in the mood. Maybe when I break Quinn I’ll enjoy it again, but now it leaves a rotten taste in my mouth.
When I think about that night, I try to relive the sex, but my mind wanders. I keep coming back to the moment I told her I believed her side of the story. The look on her face… I’d never seen an expression bear so much relief, especially here in this prison. Seeing it cemented my trust in her honesty — which made it all that much harder to hear her say she was glad about what happened to Lance. Perhaps from her perspective it’s understandable she’d feel that way, but he was my friend, and it hurt to hear her celebrate his near-death.