Page 43 of Acts of Contrition

Taking one more breath, I nearly tear the gown off of me, wanting to get this moment over with before I hesitate again. Then the same with my panties.

“Get on the bed, on your back,” he then commands.

“Why?” It’s out before I can stop it and I know he’s getting frustrated.

His lips purse, eyebrows drawn, and if I wasn’t in the situation I am, I’d think his pout that is supposed to be angry is actually … cute.

“Little dove, you know better.”

I nod. “I do. I’m sorry.”

He steps close, arm’s length away, and I can barely breathe, but all he does is reach out and brush my jaw with the back of his hand. “You learn quickly. And now that I know your past, your weakness, soon this will no longer be unpleasant for either of us. Now, be good and get on the bed.”

Nodding once more, I do as he asks. The sooner this is over with, the better.

As I do, he goes to the cloth sack and removes four sets of manacles. So this was why the anklet was removed. Stupid of me to have assumed it was because I won some modicum of trust.

I close my eyes, willing frustrated tears not to come. I made progress, and thanks to that disgusting bastard, it has all been erased it seems.

Thomas chains my ankles to the foot of the bed first, then comes on either side of me to do the same with my wrists. There’s enough give to not cut off circulation, but I can’t pull them more than an inch, and that’s a stretch.

“Answer me this,” he says, walking around the bed while I lay there, naked and restrained, as if this is a normal Sunday afternoon. “You said you begged your stepfather to not rape you that first time. Did you ever fight? Him, or any of the others? Something you said before makes me think you did.”

Swallowing hard, I nod. “Once. Only once. The first time he ever pimped me out. It was to my school principal.”

Thomas’ lips quirk. “Tell me.”

I close my eyes, remembering the adrenaline and fear racing through me. The hate. The desire for revenge.

“The first thing I did when he put his disgusting, wrinkled cock in my mouth was bite down. Hard. Blood squirted into my mouth, and he screamed. I kept gnawing at it; when he pulled me off him, the head was partially detached.”

I try to stop it, but I smile.

“He hit me, but the adrenaline was still strong. I clawed at him, made him bleed more. Tore away his lower eyelid on one side. Gouged marks in his saggy cheeks. His blood was in my teeth. Under my nails.”

My heart races as it always does when I recall this memory. The only good one I’ve ever had since I was twelve.

“Did you like it?” His voice is low, raspy. Sexy, if this was a different situation.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I’m turned on like crazy right now.

“And if I did?” I challenge.

His grin widens. “Then I know God sent me the perfect bride. Do you know what it feels like to kill the wicked, Diana?”

I shake my head.

“To balance their lives on my bloodied dagger, to hold their fate in the palm of my hand, to listen to them turn from rapists, killers, beasts, into terrified little plebeians begging for a second chance. They never gave their victims a second chance. Yet they dare to ask a messenger of God Himself to spare their worthless lives.

“When I look into their eyes as I land the final blow, it is the most euphoric feeling. The blood that rushes from them, hot and corrosive. The light that leaves their eyes. It’s beautiful.” His eyes sparkle like gems, and his chest moves as he breathes.

I realize I’m breathing just as hard.

“Do you want to know what that feels like one day? To bring down the wrath of the Lord on the worst of sinners? To the people who hurt you and stained your soul and made me do the things I have to you?”

I nod, afraid to speak.

He caresses my cheek, letting his fingers trail down my neck, stopping before he reaches my chest. “Then be good.”

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