Page 7 of Dead Bled Ringer
His eyes, so identical to my own, glinted out at me, but then he grinned, blood dripping down the bright-white of his teeth.
“You’re the soft one, brother,” he said. “Do I need to remind you of what I could do if you don’t play nice?”
He reached down to his desk and pushed an invisible button. With a gentle whir, a big, flat-screen television emerged from one sleek wall of the office.
Pushing a few more buttons, the screen instantly filled with shadowed images. They were familiar like a bruise, like a wound that never healed over.
My stomach roiled with nausea.
“You wouldn’t like if that was released, would you? You big soft-heartedbitch.”
“Turn it off,” I croaked.
My skin heated with angry, crawling rage, and Henry put his hand around my throat, shoving my unresisting body up against the wall.
“Might be very painful for that to get released,” he said. “Ready to play nice?”
What could I do?
“Yes,” I choked out.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, motherfucker, like to try this again?” he snapped, spewing spit in my face.
I swallowed hard.
I could get out of this hold, beat theshitout of my brother.
But what then?
He was cruel enough to carry out his threat. I knew he was.
And I couldn’t bear for that to happen. Ever.
“What would you like me to do for you, brother?” I asked, swallowing down the bitter wrath.
Henry grinned again, his smile wide and unhinged. Then he released my throat and slapped me across the face as hard as he could, rocking my head back.
“I need you to go fuck my wife.”
“What?” I gritted out, thinking for a minute I hadn’t heard him right.
“Are you a fucking idiot? I need you to fuck my wife. She has some stupid fantasy she wants to act out with me and I need you to do it.”
Afantasy?
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I’m otherwise occupied.”
The door opened, and a woman who looked like a college-aged intern walked in. She had long sleek dark hair and her tits and ass were hanging out of her tight little dress. She was looking with wide starry eyes at Henry, but I knew my brother very well. She looked exactly like the sort of woman he’d fuck and dump in two weeks.
“So I need you to do a good job so Angelise reports back at the next therapy session that she forgives me.”
“You’re a fucking dog,” I said bitterly.
Henry’s bloody lips split in a grin again. “I can’t afford for her to divorce me.”
“Why?” I asked, as the intern bent between his legs and unzipped his pants.
