Page 30 of Brutal Surrender

“Are you…staying here?” she asks.

I turn to her. “I’ve already seen all there is to see of you, pet. Felt it, too.”

The scent of roses has filled the bathroom. The tub is done filling with water.

“You said you weren’t going to do anything to me. Watching is doing something,” she points out.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t attempt anything.”

“You think I’m going to kill myself by jamming a toothbrush down my throat or something?”

I glance around the room to make sure nothing has been missed. There’s nothing sharp. No shower rods to hang herself from.

“The door stays open,” I tell her before stepping outside. There’s a lot I could be doing instead of tending to her bath, but I want my own assessment of how she’s doing, beyond what I’m told by Suyin or the doctor.

From the corners of my eyes, I see her slip off the hospital gown and step into the bathtub. She sinks into the water up to her neck.

I pull out my phone. If I don’t distract myself, I’ll be too tempted to walk back into the bathroom. But there’s really nothing to do on my phone. Even though we own highly sophisticated encryption software, I don’t conduct business through email or messaging. So…I could check the damn weather.

Partly cloudy with twenty percent precipitation today.

I get a text from Ming confirming an acupuncture appointment for Ramona and another one for me. I don’t know that Suyin has a needle long enough to penetrate the depths of the headaches I’ve been getting.

I check tomorrow’s weather.

Cloudy with thirty-five percent precipitation.

It sounds quiet in the bathroom. Did she faint? I turn to look. Her head is above water, her eyes closed. Her arm is moving just slightly. Quietly, I walk over. By the angle of her arm, it looks like she’s washing the area between her legs.

I told her I wasn’t going to do anything to her, but that may turn out to be a lie.

Chapter 15

Martina

Ican’t believe Vincent is giving me some privacy, or as much as can be had with the door open. From where I sit in the bathtub, I can still see him.

Being in a bath never felt so incredible before. The water, perfectly hot without being scalding, feels good to every part of my body.

I’ve seen all there is to see of you. Touched it too.

It sickens me to know that that statement is true.

But it sounds like I may not have to deal with him for much longer. Yes, another evil awaits me, but it can’t be worse than being with Vincent. And it’s hard to imagine whatever creep Vincent sold me to has better security. I might have a better chance to escape.

But what do I have to live for? I’ve made killing Vincent my sole purpose in life. What’s the probability I’ll get another chance to avenge my family?

“You can’t give up so easily.”

Those were Isabella’s words. She was ten.

“You might get it right on the next try,” she said next, rubbing my back as we sit on the piano bench together.

“I’m never going to get it right!” my six-year-old self cries as I look at the piano keys like they’re my foe.

“Give your fingers a chance. They’ll get it eventually.”

Wanting to impress my sister, I try again to play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” This time, as Isabella predicted, I play the notes correctly.

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