“And now you’re dumping bodies in lakes.” I cross my arms over my chest, wishing Reed would let me take out the plug in my ass. I’m not in the mood for any more games tonight.
“That’s on Byron,” Reed retorts, buttoning his shirt. “Let me talk to Darren. Maybe we can reel Byron in, stop this from going any further.”
I swing my legs under me and rise up to face Reed dead on. He has to know he’s being delusional. “It won’t help! Prescott’s just as much of a monster as Byron. You should have heard the things he said to me when we first met — the way he talked about Lance.”
“He was emotional about losing his son,” Reed argues, setting his hands on my shoulders.
“No, it was the exact opposite! He didn’t give a shit! To him, Lance was just a liability. A headache.”
Reed kisses my forehead and pulls me into an embrace. “He didn’t really mean it, Quinn. Darren cared about his son. I know it.”
As good as his powerful arms feel wrapped around my body, I push out of Reed’s grasp. “How can you not believe me on this? How can you still take his side?”
I won’t accept that Amber was right about Reed. I won’t. I can’t, because if I do, I’m doomed. This isn’t the Reed I’ve come to know.
“I do believe you, Quinn. But I’ve known Darren for more than a decade. I have to try and talk to him, give him the chance to make things right. I owe him that much.”
“You don’t,” I say, but there’s no point. Reed had a blind spot for the Prescotts, it’s obvious. They’ve been such a big part of his life, he can’t separate himself — he can’t put himself in the shoes of a victim.
“I’d like to go now.” I turn my back on him, not wanting him to see the tears dripping down my cheeks.
“Quinn, trust me. I’ll make sure Darren-”
“Please take me back to my cell,” I say, belting out the words.
Reed steps up behind me and yanks out my plug.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
—
My punishment from Byron’s decree goes on for a week. Several times a day, Jacqueline, Amber and all the other girls find a way to misbehave. It’s not always in the workshop, either. On one morning, Laura and Christine fling wet gobs of cereal at me — but I get whipped for it. Another time, Jacqueline starts singing “We’re Not Gonna Take It” in the shower. Up until then, I’d never been spanked while being hosed down — I’m still not sure if I hated it more than I liked it.
Usually Reed gives my ass the required number of hard lashes, but he finds a new way to make my torment new or difficult each day. For one shift I’m forced to work standing and completely nude so everyone can see all the bruises on my backside. The next day Reed has me stand in the nude again, only this time I also wear earplugs; since my table faces the wall, I can’t see any of the guards coming, so I don’t know when I’m about to be spanked. One moment I’m working, the next I’m holding on as waves of pain rip through me. Edwin, Hunter and the other girls laugh so hard, even the earplugs can’t drown it out.
“That was fucked up,” I tell him later that night as he rubs ointment into my skin. “The anticipation was the worst part.”
“Don’t worry,” Reed says, massaging me. “I’ll make it better.”
I’m still mad at him, but I can’t say no to the relief he offers each night. After a day of humiliation and torment, I need the release or I’ll lose my mind.
That might be Byron’s goal, because when his decree fails to break me after six days, I spend the seventh in the locker. It doesn’t work — it’s the easiest day I’ve had since this all started. Once I’m stripped and locked in a box and dropped in a hole, there’s not much else they can do to me.
Recognizing his mistake, Byron personally accompanies me back to the workshop the next day. “Did you enjoy your break?” he asks as we arrive. He tries to sound sarcastic, but it comes off too angrily.
I’m tempted to reply with snark, but I let it go, not wanting to give him an excuse to start my punishment early. No doubt Jacqueline and the others will take care of it soon enough.
“Reed, get her naked and tied so she can just barely work.”
“Yes, sir,” says Reed.
As Byron watches, Reed strips me down. He chains my ankles practically together, and cuffs my wrists to my waist with only inches of slack — enough that I can reach the controls of my sewing machine if I lean over it. To finish, he forces a big, black ball gag between my lips and tightens it cruelly. Drool escapes my mouth almost immediately, forcing me to watch where I put my fabric and my hands.
I’m not surprised at all when Jacqueline earns me a whipping within the first ten minutes.
“You were gone all day yesterday,” she says, stuffing a finished shirt down her pants and rubbing it between her legs. “Gotta make up for lost time.”
Hunter and Edwin laugh hard, enjoying her salacious display while Reed lashes my ass.