Page 24 of Judgment Day

Winston was sitting on his twin-sized bed, watching a flat-screen TV that hung on the wall. He wore faded jeans and a black t-shirt. He looked as though he hadn’t shaved in days. His eyes were glossed over and sunken in. There was nothing regal or arrogant about the man in front of me.

I unbuttoned my suit jacket and slid it off my shoulders, folding it in half before laying it over the back of a chair. “You never came to visit me in prison. I always wondered why.” My voice dripped venom.

He stared up at me with a vacant look in his eyes. I did that to him. I broke the unbreakable king.

I stopped right beside his bed. “Maybe it’s because you couldn’t stand to see me suffer. Maybe you couldn’t stomach the consequences of what you’d done to me. Maybe you had a heart in there after all.” I chuckled to myself at the thought. “Or maybe you’re just weak.” I leaned down in front of his face. “And maybe that makes me sadistic because I wouldn’t miss this for anything. I want to watch you break. And when you scream, when you cry, when you bleed, I want it to be atmyhand.”

His head tipped back as though it weighed a hundred pounds. He slowly lifted it back up, so that he could look at me, then licked his dry lips. “You won’t get away with this.”

My lips curved. “I already did.” I stood up straight and unfastened my belt buckle. “You know, when I was in prison, there were no TVs. No views of orchards or pretty nurses shoving pills down my throat.” I’d made sure he had a healthy cocktail of antipsychotics. “There was only concrete walls and the sour smell of piss and mildew. I fell asleep to the sound of a dozen other men jacking off.” Winston’s eyes flashed, and his chest rose with quick breaths. “Does that excite you?” I stepped closer to him, working to unfasten my belt. His eyes locked on my every move. “I bet it does. You like thinking about large hands stroking thick cocks?” The belt dangled open at my waist.

Winston parted his lips. Sick fuck.

“Eyes up here, Winston.” I unbuttoned my cuff and folded my shirt up my forearms. “There was this room on the bottom floor where they did laundry. The stench of bleach was so strong down there it made my eyes water sometimes.” I pulled my belt from my waist. Winston watched carefully as the leather slipped through each loop. “There was this iron rod just above my head that stretched from one wall to the other, like a curtain rod. They’d bring me down there, strip me bare, then tell me to hold onto that rod.”

He blinked slowly and heavily, as if fighting off sleep. I needed to tell them to slow down on the meds. I needed him alert. I wanted him to remember this.

I tipped his chin with my fingers, forcing his eyes on mine. “Pay attention to this part. It’s important.”

The door opened and two other men stepped inside the room, Maddox and another guard from downstairs.

“Just in time, gentlemen,” I said, flashing them a smile.

Winston’s hooded eyes brightened as he tried pushing off the bed but quickly fell back down.

The two men flipped Winston over, then cuffed him to the bed. I reached down, taking the collar of his t-shirt in my hand, then ripped it in half. He thrashed against the mattress as the men locked his ankles to the bottom of the bed. Good. He was aware. I wanted that.

I leaned down, spreading the torn shirt open off his back. “It’s been eating at me for days—where this sense of obligation to you came from.” I folded my belt in half. “Now I know. It’s not obligation.” Winston turned his head to look at me. His eyes were wild as he eyed the belt. “It’s fear. You tortured her.” I lifted my hand, then brought the belt down against his back with asnap, right beneath his shoulder blades. No warm-ups. I didn’t rub the skin before I lashed it. This wasn’t foreplay. “You desecrated her body.”Crack.The end of the belt wrapped around and slashed his ribs. “Tainted her soul.” Another lash. “Destroyed her spirit.”Lash, lash, lash. No pause. No mercy.

His back was covered in bright red stripes.

I took a break and evened out my breath.

Tears rolled down his face. “Please, Grey.”

“Look at you, already begging, and I’m just getting started.” I lifted my hand, then brought the belt back down again. This time it split skin. “I always thought the bleach was because of the laundry.” I whipped him in the same spot. The pin drops of blood turned into tiny trails. “And then one day, it hit me. It wasn’t just the sheets or the towels.” I hit him again, twice this time.Smack. Smack.His delicate skin broke open again, seeping more blood across his back. “It was the blood. They used bleach to clean up the blood.”

He was sobbing now. His eyes were red while snot ran from his nose over his mouth. His body convulsed in pain. But there would be no aftercare.

I let go of the belt, and it fell to the floor with a clank as the gold buckle hit the wood. I squatted in front of him, bringing myself to his eye level. “What did you do with my son?”

His eyes widened for a split second.

I smirked.Yeah, I know about him.

He pinched his eyes closed to stop the crying. When he opened them again, they were dark and narrowed. “What did you do to mine?”

I cocked my head. “Me? You’re askingmewhatIdid to Liam?” The clock was ticking. There was another white van out there, and it had made its way to the palace.Hispalace. There was no way he knew nothing about it. “You can stop playing the victim. I saw the white van at the palace today. The same van with the same logo was at the airport when Liam was shot, just hours after he said he was bringing you down. That’s not a fucking coincidence, Winston.” I stood up straight.

He swallowed, his eyes darting to the belt on the floor. “What white van?”

I chuckled, then bent down to pick it up. “With the blue logo. The laundry service.”

“We don’t have a laundry service.”

I slipped the leather through the loops as I studied his face. “Then what the fuck is Royal Standard?”

He tipped his head back and laughed darkly. “Maybe you should ask your sweet Sadie. That was her idea.”

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