Page 72 of Brutal Savior

I freeze, hand halfway to my mouth. “What? I’m bloody hungry.”

“I can see that.”

“Mind your own business.”

Quinn gives a very unladylike snort. “You’re like an old married couple. It’s so fucking cute.”

Seb’s eyebrows rise. “Cute. Your Ward thinks you’re cute, Jacob. Isn’t that nice.”

I glance at her. There’s color in her cheeks, and her eyes are bright. This is going to be a problem. I’ve kept her on a pretty short leash for the last week, with everything else that’s been happening. And when Quinn gets bored, she causes trouble.

I keep a close eye on her as the meal progresses, but she’s behaving herself—eating, making polite conversation with the boys, and leaning behind Seb’s back to gossip with Eve. It’s almost enough to convince me she’s not planning to show me up.

Once the first course is finished, people get up from their seats and start to circulate. The alcohol has shaken off the reserve brought on by the formal setting, and people’s voices are getting loud.

Hadrian makes a beeline for me and slips into the suddenly empty seat to my left. It’s nice to see him without Candice lurking in the background. He grins, looking a lot less miserable and fed up than he usually does.

“I can’t thank you enough, Jacob. The difference that girl has made…” He shakes his head. “It’s incredible. Having someone respond to them as if they’re real people has taken my creations to the next level. It’s saved me months of work.”

A warm glow of pride starts in my stomach and spreads through my bones. That’s my girl. Open-minded enough not to be creeped out by the CIs like I am. She really is something special.

“Jacob.” Gabriel’s voice shakes me out of my reverie. I turn to see Quinn has grabbed a glass of wine from a passing tray and is downing it so fast little rivulets of it are running from the corners of her mouth. I go to grab it, but she’s ready and pushes back from the table so hard her chair tips, leaping out of my grasp.

I get to my feet. All conversation has screeched to a halt, like when a gunslinger walks into the tavern in an old Western.Kendrick’s mouth is set in a disapproving line. Of course. Of course she had to fucking play up in front of him yet again.

She grins as she backs up, lifting the remaining wine to her lips. I run at her, and she laughs, darting away. Around me, I hear a few suppressed laughs, and someone drunk yells, “Don’t let her get away!”

Fuck. What does she think is going to happen here? She sprints for the door, quick in her flat, chunky boots, but I’m faster. She’s still squealing and laughing as I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her up.

One of the best things about the Compound is that things that would get me put in prison anywhere else are acceptable here. Quinn knows this, but I don’t think she really appreciates what it means. I’ve punished her in public before but never in a situation like this and not since the first couple of days she was here.

Back then, everyone was strangers. Now, she’s in a room with people she considers friends. People she respects and will have to face day after day. She probably thinks I’m going to drag her back to our flat and have some fun with her.

Sorry, love. Not today.

I haul her back to where we were sitting, push the plates out of the way, and lie her face down on the table. Her legs hang off the end, and she squirms, kicking. “Jacob. No, don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Too late for that.”

I look up. The small group are all staring. Some look worried but most, amused. Kendrick gives a wry shake of his head. “I knew this one would be trouble. It’s a good thing she ended up with you.”

I acknowledge him with a nod, then seek out my friends. “Seb, hold her for me. Gabriel, get something to tie her legs, will you?”

“Sure thing, man.” Seb heads over without hesitation. Gabriel freezes for a second—he’s too nice for his own good; Quinn would have eaten him alive—then shrugs and follows suit.

I don’t need their help. But being held down by her friends will make this a million times worse for Quinn, and she needs to learn this lesson the hard way.

Her pleas get desperate. “No! That’s not fair. Please, I was only kidding. Don’t—”

They ignore her. Seb presses her small body flat against the table whilst Gabriel uses his belt to cinch her legs together. Unable to kick or wriggle, she starts to yell. “Seriously? You can’t fucking do this! You can’t—”

I tune out her shouting as I remove my own belt.

She screeches when I lift her skirt up, showing the whole room her pink knickers. When I pull them down to her ankles, her yells turn into sobs. “Stop! Please.”

I bend down, lips close to her ear. “You asked for this, love. I’m only giving you what you wanted.”

Then, I lay into her arse with the belt. Bright red welts appear, lined up in lovely symmetry on her pale skin. I don’t go easy, giving each blow serious force. It doesn’t take long before she’s crying, tears streaming down her face and dripping onto the table.

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