Page 69 of Brutal Savior

No smile yet, but there’s one waiting there, right under the surface. I can feel it. “The food is great, and the groundsare pretty. Entertainment is top-notch. They even have a very attractive warden.”

“Sounds more like a holiday camp than a prison, if you ask me.”

“The rules are over the top, though. And don’t get me started on the cavity searches. Every damn day, there’s one.”

“Sounds like the sort of thing you’d enjoy.”

His lip curves up, and I snuggle into him, feeling like I’ve had a win. Each breath feels easier, lighter, and less tainted by guilt. It’s still there, of course, but maybe it could get easier. With a bit more time.

***

Two hours later, I’ve lost the game of not quite beer pong and am staring at myself in the mirror. “I’m not wearing this tonight.”

Jacob’s brow raises slightly. Always a sign of trouble. “You lost the bet.”

“I know, but I can’t wear it tonight. It’s a formal fucking dinner! I’ve got my dress picked out.”

“Wrong. You gave me your opinion on what you’d like to wear. It’s my decision, and you’re wearing this. A deal is a deal. Don’t tell me you’d have let me get away with anything less than a salmon-pink shirt if you’d won.”

Dammit. He’s right, of course. I had one at the ready. “At least that would have been appropriate, though. I look—”

“Fucking beautiful, as always.”

Not the word I’d choose. When we made the bet, I’d imagined Jacob would just scrawl the words on a shirt with a marker. I should have known better. The little white crop top has a large black logo made to look like a stamp. The words “Property of Jacob West” are printed in army-style letters, like you’d see printed on an ammo box in a video game.

The effect is retro, quite cool, and completely humiliating, especially when everyone else is going to be in black tie. Jacob has paired it with a tiny mini skirt. Always his favorite outfit. At least this time, he’s let me wear real panties. They’re bright pink and will show as soon as I bend over.

He touches the edge of the stamp. “I think this will be your tattoo.”

I stare at the logo, imagining it inked into my skin forever. It sends a little shiver through me, a mix of horror and something else. A pull that has me wondering whether he’ll let me orgasm tonight. He didn’t yesterday. The bastard.

“You like that idea?” His voice has softened, and there’s curiosity on his face. I have the very strong sense he wants me to say yes—not that he’d listen if I said no. I don’t answer right away, staring at the design.

I don’t know what I’d been imagining, but this isn’t it. I can’t say I hate it, though. The simplicity of it suits Jacob and feels right. “If you’d ended up with Suzy, what would you have picked?”

I’m endlessly curious about Suzy and what she meant to him. He told me her parents are abusive and have her locked into some fucked-up contract, taking most of her wages from the hospital so she can barely afford to live. I had no idea, too wrapped up in my own issues to wonder why a nurse lived in the same shithole as me.

I asked him to send her some cash to get away, and he did. I like to imagine her tanning on a beach somewhere, giving no fucks about the assholes left behind.

Am I jealous? Maybe. A bit. How fucked up is that? Not jealous because she’s free, but because she’s the girl he wanted to kidnap. What the hell is wrong with me?

Jacob gives me a wry smile in the mirror. “A caged bird, but with the door open. A symbol of willing submission. Don’t think it would suit you.”

Flat and British as always, but there’s affection there too, underneath. It warms something inside me. Fuck, what’s got me so emotional? It must be the good news about Marlowe.

I whip around and try to slap Jacob in the face.

As he has every single other time, he catches my wrist in his death grip. It feels like I’ll never win this game, but maybe one day, I’ll catch him off guard. He yanks my arm behind my back, lifting me so I’m forced onto my tiptoes.

“Try that one more time, and you can lose the bra and sit through this dinner with your little nipples poking through that top.”

He is absolutely not kidding, and by the way his hand roams up my body to cup my breast, he’s hoping I’ll give him an excuse. God-fucking-dammit. I can’t win with this guy. “Okay, okay. I’ll behave.”

He snorts. “For this five seconds.”

He releases me, and I tug my top into place. He grips my hand and steers me toward the door. Without looking at me, he says, “You know what? Taking Suzy would have been a massive cock-up. I’d have been bored as all fuck.”

I freeze, and he tugs me onward. “Come on. We’ve got this stupid dinner to get to.”

---