“Why?” I asked.
Shaking, he looked at me. “I’m sorry, Sixty Six—”
“My name is Mikaela Cinder Sinclair,” I interrupted him with a sweet smile. “Use it.”
“I’m sorry, Mikaela.”
Rage burned through me, taking me back in time. It paused along the years as it went, reminding me of the pain I’d suffered and only stopped that faithful night when an innocent child died in this room while that man defiled my soul. “You think that helps, a simple apology?” I took a step closer. “You think it’s fair that because I’m a woman, I’m allowed to suffer at the hands of a man. Yet that same man should be allowed to say I’m sorry and walk away?”
“No.” He shook his head, tears pouring down his cheeks. “I’ll do anything, just don’t...” His gaze cut to the knife Tahir was flipping.
“Who’s the fourth man?” I asked.
Andrew’s eyes flared, his gaze jumping between Kabir and me. “I can’t. My wife, my kids. He’s remorseless. Nothing like his father.”
“You care for your family enough to have your penis cut off?” I frowned.
“You don’t understand. He’ll kill and rape others and blame it on my son, my wife.” He sobbed, his expression so pathetic, unlike the arrogant man who’d ridiculed my innocence and taken advantage of my vulnerability.
I felt nothing. “Do it.” I looked at Tahir.
“No, please, no,” Andrew screamed, his eyes large and bloodshot with terror.
No one paid attention to him. While he sobbed hysterically, his hips moving from side to side, hoping to dissuade Tahir’s descending hands, Tahir grabbed hold of his trousers and quickly undid them. His eyes flew to mine momentarily, waiting for me to stop him.
I merely stared.
Andrew looked on the verge of passing out, his pleading eyes lifting to mine in a last-ditch effort to stop me. With a quick shake of his head, Tahir grasped Andrew’s flaccid penis, jerking in tune with his frenzied shaking, and placed the knife to the meaty flesh.
“No, no, wait, wait—” Andrew’s words spewed into a scream.
Red light glinted off the silver surface as Tahir hacked at the slippery skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” fell from his mouth.
Andrew’s howls filled the room, blood spurting from the cut. I met Kabir’s gaze, his expression strangely frozen in horror. Perhaps he didn’t expect me to go ahead with this punishment. Maybe now he feared my sanity.
“Done,” Tahir said, holding up the fatty stump, his expression void of remorse. Along with the knife, he tossed both to the floor. Andrew had passed out near the end. His face a deathly pale, yet his body shuddered as though still in the process of shutting down.
“Roll him off the bed,” I said, my voice low, my heart rate just beginning to fluctuate. I swallowed to ease the dryness in my throat. The false bravado was slowly slipping, and the fear approaching fast, my strength threatening to collapse.
You can do this, baby. They deserve it.Mama’s voice whispered in my ear. I fingered the pink ribbon. It would be easy to look at Xavier and inhale his strength. I chose not. This was my battle. “Xavier can hold your hand forever, Mikaela, but only you can break that bond with Kabir.”Mark’s words played like a loop in my head.
Frowning, Tahir looked at his father, who nodded. He uncuffed Andrew’s hands and legs and pushed him off the bed, his unconscious body landing with a loud thud.
I swallowed hard, forcing down my hesitation. “On the bed, Tahir.”
“For what?” he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Your turn.”
“Wait,” he yelled. “You said I’d be free to go.”
“No. I said someone would be free. I didn’t say who. Now, get on the bed.”
His expression turning deadly, he shook his head and stepped toward me.
“Get on the fucking bed, Tahir,” Kabir ordered, freezing his son’s feet.
He looked at his father. “Why do I get—” he paused, his gaze jumping between me and his father. “You planned this, didn’t you?” he snarled at his father. Posed to lunge at me, his father slammed into him, sending him toppling him onto the bed. With speed I didn’t anticipate, he had Tahir’s hands cuffed.
