Page 16 of Redemption's Inferno

“To what end?” Chains frowned.

She made an impatient gesture with her hand. “It’s just Sebastian being protective. He was already angry that Viggo was in those sex videos with me and—”

“What was that all about?” Chains interrupted. “Sorry, but I don’t think I know the whole story.”

“Oh. That.” She looked away, staring out at the bleak countryside now that they’d left London’s city limits. “It’s an even longer story than the one about my parents.”

“You might as well tell me—everyone else seems to know.”

“Have you seen the videos?”

He nodded. “As head of security for Club Inferno, it’s my job to know as much as possible about everyone involved.” He paused. “It didn’t seem like a big deal, Em. It was you and different men having sex. Not exactly the type of thing most people put online, but nothing horrid. There’s porn all over the internet, and honestly, you’re quite lovely to watch.”

She turned quickly, her brows drawing together. “What does that mean?”

He frowned. “It means you have a beautiful body and watching you make love was better than watching porn—it wasn’t meant to be insulting or crass. You’re truly beautiful, Em.”

She wasn’t sure what to say, sensing a brutal honesty in his words. “Thank you. I think.”

“I know they were recorded without your permission, but that doesn’t show when you watch and they’re quite sexy. Viggo is sexy as well.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Are you bisexual?”

He laughed, deep and heartily. “Not even a little—but I believe I’m sexually evolved. I like to watch. I like to participate. I like women exclusively, but I still appreciate the sexuality of men. No interest in taking one in the ass, but I’ve had my share of threesomes and while I didn’t find myself drawn to the men, I also wasn’t repulsed. I’m unconditionally straight, but I enjoy the sensuality of the act itself—regardless of whether it’s men or women doing it. Sex isn’t something I put a lot of restrictions on. Men, women, threesomes, fivesomes, dominants, submissives—it’s all good. I like all of it as long as everyone is willing and able to consent.”

“That’s me as well,” Emilie said slowly. “I find everything about sex arousing and like to dabble in lots of different things, but I’m not interested in women.” She paused. “Although I suppose I’ll have to get used to it, won’t I?”

Chains scowled. “You’re so bloody determined to go to prison, and I don’t understand it! Why are you so insistent it go that way?”

“I did something terrible,” she said calmly. “Sometimes getting away with something is worse than being punished—I just want the punishment I deserve.”

“But you won’t share what you’ve done.”

She hesitated, thinking about what to say. Honesty seemed easiest at this point. Lying wouldn’t change anything and, though she didn’t want to get out of anything, it might actually feel good to get it off her chest. Glancing over at him, she took a deep breath and let it out.

“I killed someone.”

* * *

They rode in silence after Emilie’s confession. She seemed to shut down after her abrupt answer and Chains was too confused to immediately comment. He felt the need to tread carefully so he didn’t scare her into running off. She’d given her word she wouldn’t do anything for seven days, but now that she’d admitted what she’d done he was concerned she would renege on their deal out of some misplaced fear he would judge her. If she only knew.

Glancing over at her, he studied her profile. With her eyes closed and her face at rest, she was truly stunning. Her features were soft and straight, her cheekbones high and her long lashes visible even from the side. He could picture the bright blue color of her eyes in his mind’s eye, like the ocean in Maui—a swirl of azure with a touch of teal and aqua. Her eyes had riveted him the first time he’d looked into them, and though he’d had no interest in a married woman, it was hard not to imagine what it would be like to have eyes that color staring into his as he took her—he stopped his train of thought abruptly, shaking his head slightly to clear out the vision of her sprawled beneath him. He’d entertained the fantasy once or twice, but after getting to know her and Viggo, those kinds of thoughts faded immediately. He’d done a lot of shitty things in his life, but sleeping with a married woman wasn’t one of them.

She’s not married anymore, a tiny voice reminded him. He glanced over at her once again, wondering what was going through her mind and trying to decide what he would say when she stopped pretending to sleep and he stopped fantasizing about all the different ways he wanted to fuck her. In an hour or so, they would be at his childhood home, where his mother would undoubtedly carry on for a while. It would most likely be tomorrow before they had another chance to talk and he didn’t want to let it wait that long.

“I know you’re not asleep,” he said quietly, reaching over to put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open but she didn’t look at him. “What is there to say?” she whispered.

“You could tell me what happened.”

She nodded. “It’s a bit of a blur—I was drinking.”

“Tell me what you remember,” he prompted.

She looked torn and then let out a long, put-upon sigh before she started to speak in a soft but distinctly monotone voice. “I was 19. I’d been studying the BDSM world pretty intently and was exploring my tendency to be dominant. There was a guy—his name was Adam but I don’t know his last name—and he was also exploring his dominance. We went on a date and went to his flat and had sex. I let him do all the usual stuff as we were both still learning—tying me up, telling me when I was allowed to come, all that. It was nice, but you know, I really wanted him to reciprocate. That had been the deal. Trouble was, he was going to university and had exams so we had to wait until the weekend.” She paused, her eyes far away as she struggled to remember the details.

“There was a party on campus. He invited me as his date and though I was anxious to get to the sex part of the evening, I was young and liked to have fun so I went. We drank heavily, and Adam was wasted. I told him to slow down, that it wouldn’t be any fun if he passed out. He said he was fine, that he’d booked a hotel room for the weekend so we had two days to do anything we wanted. After that, I partied too. We left around four or five in the morning and passed out at the hotel. When he woke up it was noon and he was ready to have sex—regular sex—and I was too sleepy to protest. We wound up having nothing but vanilla sex the whole day and I was annoyed. When he fell asleep, I got up and found the restraints I’d brought. By the time he woke up he was bound spread-eagle on the bed. He was furious, shouting at me and calling me names, saying this wasn’t fair. I told him we’d had a deal and it was my turn to play. He wasn’t interested and he just lay there, unresponsive.” She swallowed, biting her lip again. “So I left and put the do not disturb sign on the door. I went to a friend’s flat and we stayed up late drinking, having fun. I meant to go back after an hour or two, but I fell asleep and woke up after a few hours and…this is where it gets spotty.” She took a deep breath. “I remember panicking that I’d left him so long and calling for a taxi. When I got there, he was sleeping and—I honestly don’t know what happened. I guess I passed out. When I woke up again, it was late in the day, about four. And he was dead.”

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