Page 37 of Mercy & Malice

“Doesn’t matter.”

I hadn’t expected to get an answer. Just hoped I would. “Don’t leave again. Just stay with me no matter what. Please.”

His silence isn’t reassuring as he rests his forehead against mine. But I don’t push. There’s no point right now. We have other obstacles to face before we worry about what’s next between us. Is anything next?

My windpipe constricts as I swallow, the intrusive thoughts on a reel. Is this a mind game, or do they plan on killing us? Since whoever it is is hiding behind a mask, maybe they don’t want us dead. They wouldn’t worry about concealing their identity in that case, right?

“I was thinking it could be my father who’s doing this. Or could it be Julian? He was angry, maybe he’s retaliating?” I keep talking as he just keeps saying, “I don’t know.”

Fake fender bender guy is definitely the one who dumps crackers on the floor. The ache of hunger I feel deepens at the thought of any food.

When the door opens, my rumbling stomach is the last thing on my mind. All three jerks are present and heading towards us. A stack of what appears to be clothes and maybe towels in one of their hands gives me a pang of hope, although I suspect it won’t be as simple as them handing over the items. They’ll ask for something in exchange.

“Here we are! Third time’s a charm,” Judge bellows, his arms waving around in the air. “Before we get started, you two are downright filthy. You have a shower at your disposal.”

If we want to freeze to death.

“So be it. I’ll assist.” He disappears for a moment then returns with a hose. Micah moves to shield me from the icy water, but it’s hopeless as the spray drenches both of us.

“That’s much better.” He passes the hose to one of the other asshats who takes it out of the room as Judge snickers. “I’d bet some warm, dry clothes would be a welcome treat.”

Neither of us speak.

“Well, possess if you dare. Your reward, possessions that are taken for granted—warmth, privacy, comfort.”

I wait for the catch. Nothing could prepare me for what he verbalizes to Micah.

“Her ass is taking one or the other … which will it be, the belt or your dick?”

My father. It has to be. Why would anyone else use this as leverage? Or how would they even know about it. Everyone who knew about it in the original game is dead. And I don’t believe in coincidences.

Micah stiffens as I cling to his arm, attempting to keep him beside me and calm. They want a reaction and the more we do, the more they know what buttons to push.

“I’ll fuck her,” Warden cackles as the Collector holds up a belt, swinging it around.

Judge declares, “Patience.”

“No,” Micah retorts.

“Do you not want these dry, warm possessions? It’s just a minuscule spanking or sex. Or both at the same time would suffice.” The asshole’s amusement can be heard even through the voice disguiser.

I frankly state the obvious, “You’re sick.”

He steps closer to us. “Am I the villain?”

“From my vantage point, abso-fucking-lutely . You’re a psychopath who gets off on hurting people, and I can’t comprehend how anyone could be so heartless.” I take the chance. “I’m your daughter for crying out loud.”

He turns his head to Micah before focusing back to me. “Oh, the riddles to be unraveled. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.” He drags a metal folding chair a few feet from the bars then nonchalantly sits and places his pistol on his lap. “Time to decide. In sixty seconds, I shoot, let impatient have a go at her, rinse and repeat, then we’ll start over, and you’ll still have to pick your poison.”

“I won’t.” Micah shifts in front of me, shielding me from the lunatic.

Him getting shot and dying can’t happen. So, I tell him the only thing I know for certain, “There’s no way around this, just through.”

His back stiffens before he rotates to face me, his head hanging down as he utters, “I can’t do it. There’s no way. I can’t. I won’t.”

“Please. I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want them to touch me. Please, Micah. I swear I won’t blame you. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. My father is a sadistic sociopath.”

“No, it’s not your father.”