Page 6 of Their Cruel Love

“Why is he here?” I gesture at Man Two.

“He’s what we call an adjudicator.”

“Oh.”

I take a moment to catalog Razor’s attributes, wondering, in a technical sort of way, what he does to the women who submit to him. I’m also tantalized by this glimpse of the erotically charged fantasy world I’ve thought about for years.

Don’t. Just don’t.

Doing might be fun though.

I shake myself back to the present. He’s probably leaner than the four boyfriends I’ve had. I guess I prefer men with bigger muscles. Around his eyes are dark shadows, from what almost looks like a residue of stage make-up that’s dribbled partly onto his cheeks. Like the skull-faced adjudicator, hewears faded blue jeans, though his look more upmarket. That one button left undone on his creamy linen shirt shows the tattoo from his neck slithering downward.

Razor…my mouth twitches as I realize it mirrors his hairstyle. He’s gone gray-white, prematurely and on one side it’s razor-cut, but the left is long enough to be brushed backward. Like the chair, he’s doing his own thing and to hell with the expected. I doubt he’s broken though.

“Why are you here, Lisa?”

“Melissa.” I’m pleased I caught his error. I bet he meant to test me. “I’m curious about CNC.” It’s true, of course. I’m just not keen on throwing myself at strangers.

“In what way?”

Jesus. Is this an interrogation? Do they do this to all those who apply? “I heard you have a training course. For women who are curious.”

“Like you are?”

I smile, nod.

Skull Face sits forward, and I swear I can see his eyes gleaming with interest. Or with evilness.

“Yes. Like me.”

“We don’t actually have a training course?—”

“What? But…” I cannot say Milli’s name. “A friend told me you have one?”

“We don’t. Who is this friend?”

I shake my head, scurrying to see my way through this. Is it a lie? If not, who told Milli they had one? “I cannot say.”

“Sir Gregory sent you. How did you know of his link to our fraternity?”

This is getting me nowhere. They are asking more pointed questions than I am. I’m stuck because I hobbled myself. Beinghonest was never possible though, not if this fraternity has members who make snuff films.

“You can’t teach me, anything?” I regret that question already.

“I don’t know enough about you, sweetheart,” he says softly.

Fuck.Too personal, yet that endearment is strangely nice and knits a little cord of connection between us, for a plaintive, needy second. My dumb-ass pussy actually clenched.

“I should go then.” Useless. This was stupid and useless. “Wait. So maybe someone lied to my friend…do you know who that could be? It’s important for me to know.”

“I have no idea who?—”

Man Two stands and beckons to Razor, then he heads for the second doorway to the study.

“Stay there,” Razor says.

I’m not a dog. I rock forward. I’m tempted to go and sit on the desk, but I only frown, sternly.

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