Then I shimmy out of the dress.
Beckett trains his eyes on my face as I stand naked in front of him, which makes me grin even wider at his adorableness.
“If you can’t handle looking at my naked body, you should just say your safe word and get out now,” I say.
He shakes his head as he removes his jacket and then starts unbuttoning his shirt. It’s impressive how he can tackle things I take for granted with one hand. Everything is harder for him, doing everything one-handed.
Finally, he’s naked in front of me too.
I, unlike him, let my eyes explore his body. I see the painful-looking scar where his arm was cut. I see the wounds on his torso that mix with the ripples of his abs and V. His long toned legs. I even look at his cock. In a matter of minutes, it could be inside me; it’s only fair that I get to look at it. It’s a good cock—thick, long, and veiny. But I don’t get a thrill in my stomach looking at it. There is only one cock that has ever done that.
I’m sick.
“Say your safe word before this starts, Beckett. I don’t need you to protect me. Neither does Langston. If you do this, trust me, there is no going back to the life you had before. This will be your life. Everything will bring you back to this.”
He frowns, and then he leans in, so there is no possible way the cameras could pick up his next words. “I’ll say my safe word, but only after I ensure you’re safe first.”
“Why are you protecting me?” I breathe.
“Langston will hate me if I don’t.”
It’s because Langston asked him to, not because Beckett considers me part of the family. That is reserved for Langston.
“I’m warning you, Beckett. You saw what the game did to Langston. It will do the same to you.”
He gives me a smug smile and then holds out the stub that is all that is left of his arm. “I survived this. I can survive anything.”
I hope he’s right.
“The challenge begins now,” the haunting voice says. A voice I’ve tried to rid my brain of so many times, but it’s permanently etched into my ears.
I look at Beckett, and he looks at me.
No one enters the room, so I know what is on Beckett’s card, what his first task is.
I won’t hate him for it, but I won’t be able to go near him after he does this. He’ll set off my worst nightmares like no one else can.
I should make this easy on Beckett, but my body literally can’t. I know the rules, and I can do anything—fight, try to escape, anything. I just have to survive.
I don’t know how long I have in here. As long as it takes to break me once again, that’s how long.
“Please,” I whisper as Beckett takes a step toward me.
He stops at my word, like he wasn’t expecting me to make this hard for him. He thought I’d submit. I’d let him tie me up, take all my senses away.
He doesn’t know me at all if he thinks I’ll just take that. I can’t.
I have to fight.
I made a promise to myself I’d never stop fighting. I’d always be in control. I chose this game. I chose to be here. This isn’t rape. And yet, I’ll fight while they tie me up. I’ll fight while they do unthinkable things to my body. It’s the only way I can make sense of everything in my mind.
“Beckett, please.”
My eyes water—they won’t spill tears, but they’ll get close.
His hand balls into a fist, his legs remain planted, his eyes dart side to side, trying to make sense of what I’m not saying.
But then he takes a step.