Page 80 of Code Name: Phoenix

Tripping over her bare feet, she skids to a stop. The sound of her raw skin squeaking against the ground cuts into my head, but she doesn’t stay down. She stands up and spins to keep me in sight as she pulls the robe off and holds it out as a shield in front of her.

“You will give me what I want, Jessa.” My words are an order.

I take another step toward her. Her entire body is shutting down. Her exhaustion must be overwhelming. As her adrenaline drains out, so does her strength, and I’m almost ready to begin.

Raising my hands unnecessarily high, I show her my belt again. She instinctively removed it last time, and I’m betting, if I give her enough space, she’ll do it again.

My confidence in my assumption soars as she glances down to my midsection then meets my eyes.

She attempts a distraction by tossing her robe at my face. I lift my hands to remove it, and she takes the opportunity to loosen my buckle. She’s faster than before, and she has it off and in her hands, sparking a fire in my bones.

My arrogance is at an all-time high. I’m barely controlling myself, but she needs to see this side of me, or I’ll never be able to grant her the peace I want for her.

Taunting her, I step dangerously close, daring her to attack.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I chide. “You should know you need to ask permission before you play with someone else’s things. You will pay for the choices you’ve made, Jessa.”

Tears well in her eyes as she releases a sorrowful groan.

I have her now.

She’s in that same headspace of panic and helplessness, and if her memories are going to come back, they are going to come back now.

She raises a fist, but the instructions from her brain aren’t reaching her extremities, and her swing is weak and off target. Grabbing the belt, I step out of her way, and as she lunges past me, I push her facedown on the ground and hold her in place with my knee in the middle of her back.

Her fear has taken over, paralyzing her. I roll her slightly to the side as I grab both wrists and wrap them together in front of her with the tie from her robe, which is now on the floor beside her. Then, pulling them close to her throat, I wrap the cloth belt around the back of her neck, securing her wrists close to her as I tie it tight to itself. I lift her deadweight with one arm around her waist as I pick up my belt with my free hand.

Her sobs flow freely, and her body shakes as I lower her onto the bench—which I know she wanted to avoid more than anything.

Stepping behind her, I kick her legs open and bind them quickly to their restraints, holding her upper body in my hand with the robe tie.

Behind me, the door rattles on its hinges. I know Jack is outside, testing the lock.

I’ve got seconds, maybe a minute left.

I’m running out of time, and I need to hear her break before he gets in.

Lying on the bench in just her shirt and underwear, her body trembles uncontrollably.

“Please, you don’t need to do this.” Her words are eerily similar to those in the video, and I pull her toward the painful break I know is coming.

“No, Jessa. You didn’t have to do this. It’s your choices that brought us here. I’ll remind you, you have a safe word.” I’m copying Maxwell’s words, and she doesn’t challenge me.

She’s no longer here in the room with me.

She’s somewhere else.

Stepping behind her, I take a deep breath.

I am not a man who prays, and so I hope instead that I’ll be forgiven for what I’m about to do.

Pulling the cloth tie hard, I lift her head back off the table. I fist the fabric of her underwear with my free hand and tear them down and off her, letting the cold air flow over her.

The two-way mirror vibrates, and I know someone has opened the door to the viewing room.

I’m only going to get a couple of strikes in before it’s over.

She inhales sharply, and her upper body goes limp. This is the moment. I’ve either helped her, or I’ve lost her.

---