Page 68 of Master of Lies

Not Uncle Orren. I knew that voice. My ears reached out to it eagerly.

“…fighting me! Calm down! It’s me. It’s Jed.” His voice was low, gentle, pleading. “Please, baby. You’re hurting your own wrists. You’re bleeding. Stop fighting, please, so I can undo the cuffs. Please, Freya.”

My trembling limbs stopped jerking and flailing. I couldn’t seem to inhale. I dragged in short, sobbing breaths as the weight slowly eased. More air came in, and suddenly, I could smell him. I knew that smell. Not Uncle Orren.

The world came back into focus. My whole life reordered itself. I was an adult.

And this was Jed. Those were Jed’s eyes near my face. That was Jed’s voice.

He lifted himself off me, and a big gulp of air made me start coughing.

He reached up to unlock the handcuffs. My hands were cold and numb, my wrists sore. Sticky with blood. I must have had some bad moments, flashing back to that basement. But I didn’t want to think about them. Please, God. Never again.

“Freya, I’m so sorry.” He grabbed my wrists, looking at the red, raw ligature marks with sharp hiss of dismay. “Jesus. I didn’t know…”

I pushed myself away from him into a sitting position. “Didn’t know? Really?” I stammered out, mouth still trembling. “You thought leaving me handcuffed alone in the dark wouldn’t bother me? Seriously, you’re going to play that dumb?”

“I knew it would piss you off, of course. I’m sorry about the lightbulb burning out. I know it was bad, but I never meant to…” His voice trailed off.

“To what, Jed?” My voice was cracked and thick from screaming.

“To hurt you,” he finished. “That’s the last thing I want. I just wanted to keep you safe. I know how protective Ethan and Shane are about you. How much they worry. It’s the same with me. Particularly since we got together.”

“Together? Hah.” I let out a crack of bitter laughter. “Some togetherness. My brothers always thought I should be confined, just like you do.”

“That’s not true,” Jed said. “No one wants to confine you. They never stop bragging about you. I was always hearing about how Freya just invented a patent for this thing, or Freya just got a robotics engineering award for that thing.”

“They like it that I’m smart, when it’s convenient for them. They want a toy they can show off and then put back into a box for safe storage when they’re busy. But they can’t protect me. Neither can you. The damage is done. It was done a long time ago.”

“What damage?” he demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” I muttered. I tried to stand up, but my legs were having none of that. I ended up just sliding off the bed and onto my knees.

Jed sank right down to the floor with me and tried to help me get up, but I smacked his hands away. “Do not touch me,” I hissed.

“What damage, Freya? What are you talking about?”

“Stuff that doesn’t concern you,” I said. “But no man could protect me from all the bad things running around in the world, no matter how much he wants to, no matter if he thinks it’s his job or not. That’s just stupid, macho vanity. We all have to look out for ourselves, and I’m prepared to do that. I am fully prepared.”

“Of course you can—”

“But not when I’m handcuffed to a fucking bed!” I yelled. “You made me helpless! How the fuck could you do that, Jed? How could you do that to me?”

Jed’s hands fastened on my shoulders, squeezing, massaging. “Try to breathe slowly,” he said. “I swear on everything that’s holy, I will never do that again.”

My bitter laughter turned into another coughing fit. “Oh, that’s for damn sure. Fuck off, Jed Clearwater. Forever. Go to hell and stay there.” I launched myself in the direction of the bathroom, and by some miracle, hit the door before my legs gave out.

Once inside, with the lock engaged, I held myself up on the sink. Not the best choice, because that meant I had to see myself in the mirror, which was a shitshow. My eyes had that gaping-windows-into-hell look, and I was still shaking violently.

I splashed my face, then closed the toilet lid and collapsed onto it, pressing my face against my knees and sobbing. Aw, poor Freya, all broken up because some man shoved her around. I should be used to it by now. I should be fighting back.

I should be fighting back.

The thought jolted me so much, it made me stop crying. I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and mopped up my eyes, blew my nose, and looked over at the small pink toiletries bag I’d left on the bathroom counter.

The BBBag, which I had taken out because I had been desperate for a toothbrush. I hadn’t even considered the lethal spike hidden in the handle. It functioned perfectly well as a normal toothbrush, and I’d wanted fresh breath and white, squeaky clean teeth. Because I’d been obsessed with getting laid by that man. While I should have been thinking about getting even.

Well, halleluiah. I was cured.

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