Beauty in the Broken

Gripping her hair, I turn her face to the side. She watches me with her cheek on her arm, her eyes dripping tears and her lips set in a defiant line.

“Don’t try this again, Lina. It’ll never end well for you.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Even monsters can be kind if you give them reason to be.”

She closes her eyes. She’s exhausted, but we’re not done.

“Look at me.”

She lifts her honey eyelashes slowly. “You wanted me to know where the safe is. That’s why you let me see when you removed the necklace.” Bitterly, she adds, “It was a test.”

“Now it’s a lesson.” I kiss her nose. “Tired?”

“Yes,” she says from the cushion of her arm, so pretty and so wronged.

“We’re almost done, then you can rest.”

Alarm flitters into her eyes. “Are you going to cut off my finger?”

Is she joking? “I’ll never mutilate you, no matter what you do.”

Her torso deflates, as if she’s blowing out a breath. She’s a million shades of sex appeal, but right now she’s the cutest woman I know.

“It still hurts,” she complains.

“What baby, Lina?”

She blinks. “What?”

“You said you need those papers for your baby. What baby?”

“It’s noth—I mean I don’t even know what I was saying. You were whipping me so hard. I was probably hallucinating.”

Right. I’ll let it slide for now. “Next time you pull a stunt like that, I’ll break skin. Understand?”

“Yes,” she says on a broken whisper.

It hurts me, that little whisper. I’m still hard for her, but not for her pain. Not the emotional kind. It says a lot. I’m not hiding my head in my elbow. I see the truth for what it is. I’ve always been lusting after Lina, but my feelings for her are growing stronger, overshadowing the physical. Needing to escape my thoughts, I go to the bathroom to fetch painkillers and take enough time to get my mask back in place. I feed her two pills with more water and watch over her until she falls asleep.

I make sure the room temperature is comfortable so I don’t have to cover her. After dressing, I head downstairs to tell Jana Lina is unwell and won’t come down for lunch. I instruct her to prepare a tray for Zane to deliver. Then I call the agency and get a new man—their best after Russell—for Lina. When he arrives, I brief him before going in search of Zane. I find him and Anne at the pool. Anne avoids looking at me. Zane appears wounded, as if I whipped him instead of Lina.

“She’s sleeping,” I say. “Jana will prepare her a tray. Take it up at lunchtime. Call me the minute she wakes.”

I expect him to say something lame like not being a babysitter, but he nods.

“Sure thing, Dami.”

“I’ll be back after lunch to check on her.”

I’m about to add that I have hidden cameras in every room of the house but bite my tongue. I may not trust Lina, but she won’t tell a lie without good reason. It’s time to find out if Zane is still on my side.

It takes an hour to drive to Brixton. Dalton doesn’t act surprised to see me. He lets me see myself in and takes the only seat. It suits me. I’d rather not sit on the greasy sofa.

“I’ve been to Willowbrook.”

His expression gives nothing away. “Sending her back already? Is she becoming a burden?”

“Why did you send her there?”

He props a foot on the coffee table. His toenails are yellow and in need of a cut. “She needed help.”

I kick his foot away. Didn’t his mother teach him manners? “Help as in drugs and isolation?”

“She tried to kill herself.”

“Yeah, by jumping out of a window and going on a hunger strike. I read the report. The thing is, she doesn’t seem like someone who’ll starve or jump. Neither does she like being locked in, as she supposedly did to herself.”

“What’s your point?” he asks with an oily smile.

He reminds me of an eel, slippery and hard to nail.

“There’s more to the story. Tell me about her baby.”

It’s the magic words. He goes stiff and blanches before stretching to hide it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You remember the evidence?”

“Of course, I do. What kind of stupid question is that?”

“She said she needed the evidence for her baby.”

“She’s delusional. Her mind isn’t right.”

“Right.”

“That’s what I said.”

I could whip him, but he won’t be able to handle a tenth of what Lina took. He’ll crumple after the second lash, piss himself, and sell me more lies. I can’t trust the filth that comes out of his mouth, not even under torture. That’s okay. There are other ways.

“All right,” I say.

His shoulders sag. “Just like that?”

“Have a nice life.”

“Tell Lina I say hi.”

I slam his door, only feeling better knowing I’m condemning him to the life he deserves. I hope he suffers long and hard.