“I’ve told you everything,” I insist.
“Reed?”
As I watch, Reed strokes the whip across Amber’s ass, causing her to buck and writhe, biting into her gag.
“Oh that was a good one,” Prescott says, reaching over to the ashtray on Byron’s desk. “Give her another.”
Reed complies, swinging the whip again, eliciting a bloodcurdling shriek from Amber. I close my eyes, unable to bear the sight of her twisting against her bonds. I wish I could cover my ears, shut out her pain and Prescott and Byron and everything else.
“Quinn, just tell us the plan and this all stops.”
I shake my head, stifled sobs trembling in my chest.
Reed gently grips Amber’s thighs and spreads her legs apart. Setting aside the whip, he opens his bag again and gets out a flogger. He takes a couple quick practice swings in the air, letting Amber and I hear thewhooshit makes as it goes by. Then he strokes up between Amber’s legs, swatting her pussy. She screams, face flushed with pain; she nearly loses her balance on the desk, but she holds on.
I tell myself there has to be a way out of this. Amber may be willing to suffer for our cause, but I can’t watch this. I have to make it stop.
“Okay!” I howl, wrenching back and forth in my chair.
Reed stops the whipping, and his poker face slips for a second, revealing the wrath boiling under the surface — but only I’m looking at him. They’ve all turned to me now.
“I had a plan, but it wasn’t to start a revolt,” I explain. “It was to save myself.”
Byron and Prescott turn to each other, sharing the same amused grin.
“Go on,” says Byron.
“I was going to play along, be obedient and do whatever it took to get a sponsor. Once he got me out of here, I planned to wait for a chance to either escape or kill him, then go to the authorities.”
Prescott laughs. Byron shakes his head.
“That’s a terrible plan,” says the warden. “Although, knowing you, Quinn, it might have worked. But then why stir up the other prisoners to fight us?”
“Because if you didn’t go for the sponsorship auction idea, I was going to get the bitch to help me jump Edwin and then we’d fight our way out.”
“Fantastic,” says Prescott, clapping his hands slowly. “She had a Plan B. That’s outstanding.”
“You think she’s telling the truth?” Byron asks.
Prescott stares at me a while, daring me to look away. I don’t.
“She could be,” he admits. “I can’t tell one-hundred percent. Better keep her on lockdown until the auction.”
What?
“You’re still holding the auction?” I ask, stunned. “Why?”
Prescott sets his hand on mine and squeezes it. “Don’t worry, pet. You’re mine. That hasn’t changed.”
“We can’t have a prison full of inmates on the verge of throwing an uprising,” Byron says. “We’ll sell off as many as we can, but one way or another, they all have to go.”
“You can’t do that,” I growl, trying to get loose.
Byron sits down and takes out a bottle of Lagavulin. “We don’t want to, but we have to, thanks to you, Quinn. In a few days, every prisoner at Walker but you and the bitch will be sold off or dead.”
Chapter 33
“Reed, take the women to the dungeon, then come back,” orders Byron. “Make sure they can’t cause any trouble. We’ll discuss how to handle them properly until the auction.”