Page 18 of Reckoning

Meyer

I distracted myself by returning to work for the rest of the week with as little time at home as I could stand. There were new contracts to be drawn up and executed. A private security firm was looking for some new tech to use in the Middle East, and some wealthy locals wanted to wait out another decade of unrest rather than try to re-establish contacts and supply lines in new countries with stricter law enforcement. Schaf Industries would make billions.

Madeline was depressed. She cried herself to sleep most nights, burying her face in my carpet to muffle the sounds of her despair. She barely touched the food I provided. I resorted to threats to keep her eating and drinking. A few times, I came home late to find her holed up in the basement watching TV in a daze, not really taking in what was showing. I dragged her upstairs and put her through the motions of bathing. I didn’t try to hide my body’s reaction to her, but she didn’t shy away from me. She painted herself with grim, steadfast acceptance.

When I came back on Friday, she was still on the floor of the bedroom where I had left her that morning. Her face was nearly healed, more yellow than purple, and the painkillers allowed her to take deeper breaths. I hadn’t even bothered tying her up for the past few nights, and the red skin around her wrists had turned pink and healthy. She was healing well, despite her own attempts at sluggish suicide.

Seeing her on the floor that day, I felt a pang of unfamiliar guilt. She was so broken it made me sick, but I didn’t want to own someone so morose for the rest of my life. Where was that red-hot firebrand I’d spent the past few days sparring with? I kicked off my shoes and laid on the carpet, surprising myself. She stared at my chin.

“What do you want.” She didn’t ask any real questions, just observed, which really made for shit conversation.

“Plan B,” I said, and she made eye contact. She couldn’t help herself. “I got you some makeup and a nice dress. We’re going to a party tomorrow.”

She shook her head, burying her face in the carpet. “I’m not going anywhere in public with you.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I said, struggling to keep the irritation out of my voice. This wasn’t something I could force her into. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work. Everyone would be able to see her reticence. It had to look real. “It’s our first public appearance as a couple.” She snapped her head back up again, and I saw the unabashed hatred in her eyes. I almost recoiled from her. No one had ever looked at me with such fury before. Not even Conrad.

“No one would ever believe we’re together,” she growled. “You’ve mocked my organization too many times. And even if it were believable, I would never betray my colleagues like that. I would lose all credibility.”

“You’re not going back to work anyway, Mads. Accept that that part of your life is over.” As if I’d let her work for a company I’d been trying to put out of business for my entire career. “Why in the world would I allow you to continue working at all? Everything Amnesty Abroad does undermines my entire business. It would be senseless for me to allow you to do that.”

“You can’t take that from me!” I flinched. She was screaming, pushing up to prop herself on her elbows. “That job is my life, Meyer. It’s a miracle I haven’t killed myself this week. You can’t take my work from me.”

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. All the fucking time. I tried to compose myself, staring at the ceiling as her words mocked me in my head. I liked a little fight, but couldn’t she give in a little? Let that sexual tension boil over a little more? She could dig those heels into my ass while I fucked her instead of into the dirt every time we spoke. Hadn’t I been nice with the pills and the massage? What did it take to break this girl down?

“You’re a thankless bitch,” I muttered, partly to myself.

She launched herself at me, awkwardly, since we were both lying on the ground. I flinched under her fists before realizing how ineffectual they were, and then I came to my senses and grabbed her. She got in a couple of good blows before I secured her wrists, rolling over on top of her to hold her down.

“You’re acting like a child. Control yourself and calm the fuck down.” My tone was harsh with barely contained violence. Who did she think she was? We both knew the score here. She was the one who couldn’t accept the fucking facts.

She ignored me, trying to kick at my kneecaps and groin to no avail. When she finally ran out of steam, she just let her head fall to the side as tears tumbled down her face. “How would you feel if someone took away your livelihood?”

“Do something else.” I dipped my head to brush my nose against her ear, nudging her hair out of the way. She was too close.

Her caustic laughter vibrated down my spine. “Of course, you don’t actually care about what you do. You have no idea what it’s like to live and breathe your mission because your only goal is wealth.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” I pulled back my head to look at her, trying to capture her lips only for her to dodge me once more. Her breath was erratic against my cheek, and I wasn’t sure if the pounding against my ribs was from her heart or mine. The delicate skin of her wrist twisted beneath my thumbs.

“Something wrong with an empire built on the blood of children? I think so.”

I forced myself to breathe deeply, reminding myself that I had the upper hand. I started to rise to my feet. “There’s a fundraiser tomorrow. You’re coming with me. As my guest. My girlfriend.”

She lashed out again, and I almost fell on top of her. I pinned her more firmly, clasping both wrists with one hand and using the other to hold her face still.

“Everyone’s going to see you with me, madly in love or at least heading that way. We’re going to be happy together in public. So everyone can see.”

Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears, produced from anger instead of pain. “You mean so my mother can see.”

I patted her cheek. “Now, you’ve got it.”

She spit on me. I reacted instantly, clamping my hand around her throat almost without thinking. “None of that,” I growled, applying pressure. Her eyes widened in a rush of panic, but I stopped short of cutting off her breath. “You know how much I can hurt you. Don’t tempt me.”

She wrenched her wrists free, and I stood while wiping my face. She clambered to her feet after me, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I won’t do it.”

I yanked her back against me. “You don’t have a choice. I thought we’d established that.”

She squirmed, trying to pull her hips away from me, but I held her down tightly. My body responded to hers, the soft curves against my hard muscles, and when I rocked forward to make sure she felt my arousal, it wasn’t completely voluntary.

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