She played me. I can’t fucking believe she did that. All this time I was worried about Reed and whether or not I could trust him, I didn’t even think to be suspicious of Jacqueline.
Byron gets up, steps around his desk and steps in front of me. He crouches down to look me in the eye.
“I’ll let you in on a secret, Quinn: the women here have wanted to revolt since long before you arrived. The bitch keeps them in line. Keeping them turned against you has taken a lot of work. Darren and I are truly impressed.”
A thousand terrible thoughts burn in my mind, but first and among them is, did Reed know about this? Sparing a quick glance, I see he looks as horrified as I feel. I think he probably had no idea.
“Unfortunately, she’s met her match in you, Quinn,” Byron continues. “It’s obvious to all of us that she’s losing control, and sooner or later they’re going to side with you. It’s a situation we’ll deal with soon enough.”
I shake my head, so full of rage that I can barely maintain a single train of thought. When I turn to Jacqueline, she’s so despondent and decimated that I can’t bring myself to hate her — and that makes me even angrier. She’s a victim too — she’s been protecting her sister — but if she’d told me this, I could have tried to help her.
At least I didn’t tell her about Reed. Any chance of escape would be gone.
“Edwin, take the bitch back to the workshop,” says Byron. “Send in Amber on your way out.”
“Hey bitch,” says Prescott. “You did well. I’ll give Isabel your regards.”
She nods back at him but doesn’t speak as Edwin clips the zip ties, freeing her from the chair. He doesn’t bother binding her again as he escorts her out.
Byron waits for the door to shut behind them, then turns to me. “What was your plan, Quinn?” He yanks the duct tape from my face in one pull, which doesn’t feel good. I’m glad to be rid of the gag, but he may as well have left it on — I’m not telling him shit.
“Come on, Harris. Make this easy.”
“I had no plan,” I say. “It was all talk.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I snort. “No one ever does.”
Byron rolls his eyes. “Reed, get out your toys.”
Without a word, Reed grabs the duffel bag at his feet and retrieves a whip, a ball gag, nipple clamps and more. Prescott takes two cigars from his jacket pocket and hands one to Byron.
“You think those are going to scare me?” I snarl.
Byron smiles. “They’re not for you.”
Prescott chuckles, lighting and puffing from his cigar.
There’s a knock on the door, followed by Amber shuffling in. Reed immediately gets to work removing her bindings and stripping off her prison uniform. She squeals in fear, shaking as tears drip down her cheeks.
Oh, you motherfucker.
“It’s been a long time since Reed worked his magic on Amber here, but clearly she hasn’t forgotten,” says Byron. “Quinn, are you really going to let poor Amber suffer for no reason?”
“Don’t tell them anything!” Amber shouts, her face twisted with hate. “They can do whatever they want to me, don’t-”
Before she can finish, Reed stuffs the gag in her mouth and buckles it tight. She grunts angrily, but doesn’t fight as Reed ties her wrists together with rope, then bends her over Byron’s desk.
“What happened, Amber?” asks Prescott. “You used to be so agreeable.”
He’s right.Not all of us enjoy getting whipped,Amber once said to me. Byron wasn’t kidding: the women really are starting to take my side. I’m sure Amber doesn’t want to get punished, but she’s willing to take it, and she doesn’t even know anything.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, trying to buy time while I think of a convincing lie. No matter what they do to Amber, I can’t tell Byron about Reed and his effort to enlist outside help.
Byron nods at Reed, who starts by fixing a pair of clamps on Amber’s nipples. She squeals from the pain, and then screams when Reed hangs several metal ball bearings from the clamps, weighing them down.
“Change your mind?” Byron asks me.