Page 96 of Delivered to the Devil

Rebecca is stiff with tension as we hover in this moment of uncertainty. She senses the danger crackling in the air even though she doesn’t understand our exchange. Even as I don’t remove my attention from Gabor, I sense her anxiety. I can hear it in her shallow, rapid breaths and the staggered long ones as she struggles to keep off the ledge of panic.Good girl,I want to tell her. But this is not the time.

Gabor’s jaw tightens, and he turns to look at Rebecca.

This is it,I think. The moment where I have to choose. Snapping Gabor’s neck or putting Rebecca to sleep. Breaking the bond that I’ve based my whole life on or breaking the bond that runs deeper than any other.

I can’t make that choice.

And I don’t have to.

Gabor glances back at me and erupts in a loud laugh as he holds up both hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Janos. I won’t take your fucking toy from you. You’re like a goddamn pitbull with a bone.” He gives Rebecca a sideways look and adds, “Though, technically, it’s my bone. But I guess you’ve deserved a reward for being such a good boy.” He shakes his head and chuckles as he goes to pour another glass of scotch, and relief is like a tidal wave, making me sink back in the chair.

“How about this? One hundred million forint,” Gabor offers.

I’ll pay twice the amount, but Gabor’s gaze is too focused. It’s too easy. He wants a bit of rebuttal. Some resistance. Agreeing this soon would be a weakness in his eyes, and the deal would drop instantly.

I scoff. “A hundred million for a scratched-up toy? Have you seen her body?” I go to Rebecca and lift her blouse to reveal the canvas of scars that is her torso. Her pained whimper cuts my soul. To her, those scars are a weakness, but I’ll show her what they truly are.Strength.A testament of what she has survived.

“You’ve got a point.” Gabor leans against his desk and takes a sip of his scotch as he watches Rebecca over the rim of his glass. I’m still holding her blouse up, and I can feel her growing smaller with every passing second Gabor takes in her scars. But I can’t think about her emotions right now. I’ll have plenty of time to mend whatever damage I’m making when I walk out of here with her as mine.

“But Iamgonna miss out on a lot of fun, so I can’t go cheap.”

Gabor shifts to English as he comes to stand in front of Rebecca and traces a finger over one of the more severe scars. “I’ll cut you a deal,” he says. “Fifty million for the scratched-up whore, and I get to use her however I want—shall we say… once a week?”

“Once a month, and you don’t damage her,” I counter.

“You know I can’t have any fun without a little pain, Janos.”

“Sixty million, once a month, and I’ll hurt her while you fuck her.”

My dick stirs in my pants. The idea of him fucking her while I’m hurting her turns me on more than it should. I’ve always gotten more off on the power and the pain than the fucking itself. That’s why I didn’t take Rebecca for myself that day when I saw her at the restaurant. I didn’t simply want to overpower her, slap her around a little, and fuck her. Part of me wanted to see true pain in those innocent eyes.

Little did I know how much that pain would hurt me when Gabor went overboard.

But regret is not something I allow myself. It doesn’t do any good, so I shut down the nagging emotion and focus on what’s in front of me—sparing Rebecca more of that pain.

Gabor’s expression darkens as he contemplates, and I think he’s going to refuse my offer and insist on inflicting the pain himself. My head churns to come up with a counteroffer good enough to get her out of it. So when he makes his next offer that doesn’t involve her, I don’t hesitate for a second.

“Seventy million, I get to use the whore once a month while you hurt her, starting today, and you pay for your disobedience. Two fingers. One for not getting rid of her and one for fucking her without permission.”

“No,” Rebecca blurts, no longer able to hold it together. I feel her eyes flickering back and forth between us with frantic desperation as I hold out my hand and Gabor takes it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” I say. Then I grab Rebecca’s arm before her trembling knees cave in and lead her to the door. I want to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay and this is one of the good outcomes I could have hoped for, but I can’t show any weakness. I can’t let him see thatshe’smy weakness. So I stick to rubbing my thumb across her inner arm where no one will see, and her rigid muscles soften somewhat.

I open the door and call out for Anton. “Take her to the living room and keep an eye on her until I come,” I say.

I’m almost expecting Rebecca to burst into desperate words of begging and pleading when the burly guard grabs her arm and steers her down the corridor. But she’s such a good girl, smart and obedient, knowing that kind of behavior would do more harm than good—knowing to trust me.

In this moment, I know for certain that keeping her was the right choice. The only choice.

CHAPTER 46

“And I Return to Nothingness”

by Lorna Shore

Rebecca

Time ticks away at a painfully slow pace as I wait. The large, opulent living room is deadly silent—not even the guard standing watch by the door gives off a sound—but inside my head, I’m screaming, alarms are blaring, and destructive images of blood and pain keep flashing before my inner eye. But even as I want to release the screams and pull at my own hair, I remain in place, perching on the couch, hands folded in my lap, eyes staring straight ahead. I imagine this is how it must feel when anesthesia goes wrong—when the body shuts down and the mind is wide awake during the horror and pain.

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