Page 137 of House of Cards

He likes when I fight back almost as much as when I submit.

So why would he break me?

The memory of his fingers tracing my skin as he applied ointment to my bruised skin, so gently tending to me after Howler’s punishment. After his own spanking in the classroom, days later.

I force out a nervous laugh. “He won’t hurt me. I mean, for fuck’s sake, he gave me a bubble bath. What’s the worst?—“

Troy stops walking, and the hand clamped around my arm forces me to stop. He pulls me around to face him, voice dropping to a low growl.

“You think those pretty red lines he left on you are all he’s capable of?”

My stomach twists violently as I jerk back. “What the fuck?”

Troy stares at me, his expression cooling as his eyes search mine. Finally, he exhales through his nose.

“You don’t know.”

My breath catches in my throat. Something cold slithers down my spine, and it’s got nothing to do with the rain water still leaking out of my hair.

“Smith was the one holding that cane.”

I shake my head. “But…Howler…”

“Smith threw him out. Took over,” Troy says flatly. “Not sure who pissed him off more, you or Howler.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I’m still shaking my head, trying to process what he’s telling me.

Those twelve brutal lashes I received…they came from Smith?

The man who poured me a lavender-scented bubble bath? Who so gently applied ointment to the wounds he inflicted?

Yes, Zoey.

The monster who watched me flinch and whimper with each touch, knowing exactly how much pain he’d caused.

My stomach clenches, heart rate spiking. All the desperate reasons I came up with to convince myself he wouldn’t really hurt me crumble to dust.

Still, I try to gaslight myself.

“No. No, that’s not—you’re lying!”

But even as I deny it, the pieces fall into place. The blindfold. The silence. Even the air had felt different when Smith was in the room.

I thought it was my imagination.

Should have realized what had happened, especially after the way Smith had inspected the marks he’d made with such clinical precision.

Ha. It was more than that, wasn’t it?

It waspride.

There’s no denying it anymore.

Smith is an animal.

My mind splinters, fragmented thoughts colliding as I try to make sense of this new mind fuck.

Troy watches my face as I struggle to process, and whatever he sees there makes his grip on my arm loosen slightly.

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