“Hard points are under the table. I want her arms and legs spread,” Roman said, his tone impatient as he glared at us with his arms crossed.
“He hurt Kallie, didn’t he?” I asked. “It was all him.”
Wes gently guided me onto my back and lifted my wrists above my head. “Yes. I tried to warn you, but I was black bagged before I could.” With trembling hands, Wes began to tie the rope around my right wrist.
“God,” was all I could say, horrified.
“She needs painkillers at least, Roman. You can’t brand her like this while she’s fully awake and?—”
“Do not fucking tell me what to do with my property!” Roman yelled, his face reddening a shade as his dark eyes grew even darker.
Wes tensed. With the gun pointed back at my head, he pulled my bound wrist and secured the end of the rope to the hard point under the table.
Deep breath after breath, I tried not to go into a full-blown panic attack. But imagining the smell of my own sizzling flesh was enough to send my body into a visceral state of panic I’d never felt before.
“Please. You don’t need to do this,” I said to Roman.
“Yes, beg me for mercy. You look so fucking sexy when you’re desperate,” he purred.
I stopped speaking. Wes bristled.
“Seems like a good time to remind you of all the occasions you treated me with contempt, disobeyed me, even raised your voice with me…” He tsked. “After this, you will be purified. Purified of my brother’s touch. Purified of all your numerous offences against me. Be grateful I’m not taking another page out of that book and piercing your cunt.”
A shiver rolled down my spine. Wes held my hand again, his face contorting with pain and fury.
I squeezed his hand back.
“There’s something I need you to know,” Wes said, barely above a whisper as he secured the knot around my left wrist. He released a shaky breath. “It feels fucked-up to say it now, but I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I?—”
Wes’s gravelly voice cracked, and I braced myself as tears blurred my vision.
“I love you, Nova.”
Wes caught the tear that escaped my eye with his thumb. “I made a huge mistake—by not telling you the truth, and then by not fighting for you. I told myself I was protecting you. I’m so?—”
“It’s okay,” I said. My wrists were now spread above me, immobilized.
I couldn’t stand to see Wes like this. I’d been so wrong about him, about everything. He might’ve messed up, but I couldn’t do anything but forgive him now.
I might never see him again.
“It’s not okay,” Wes said, reaching for more rope under the table.
“I forgive you, Wes. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you either,” I said. “And I love?—”
“Shut thefuckup,” Roman snarled. “My God, it’s like neither of you understand my artistic vision.”
Wes and I tensed, exchanging a look of solidarity at the sheer insanity of Roman Graves. If the stakes weren’t life and death, I might’ve found it funny.
I knew Wes was intentionally tying my ankles slowly, also stalling the inevitable. Once I was fully restrained, Wes and I tensely awaited our next directions.
My every limb was bound and immobilized. And not in a hot way.
“You don’t love him,” Roman growled. “No one could love a fuck-up—a junkie—as worthless ashim.”
I glared at Roman, unable to stop myself, even as Wes pleaded with his eyes for me not to react.
“He can’t protect anything or anyone.” Roman laughed. “I mean, look where you are, angel.” He met my glare with a cold, sinister narrowing of his gaze. “Give her a final kiss,Wes.”
