Slow Agony (Assassins, #2)(67)

I couldn’t think about it now, even though I was far from over it. When we got away, when Griffin was safe, when Marcel was dead... then I’d grieve. I didn’t have the luxury now.

I watched Griffin, who was huddled against the wall. He hadn’t said anything in hours, but we’d both been awake since the sun came up. He kept his eyes open, but they were empty. I was losing him, and I didn’t know what to do about it. How could I get him to wake up, to fight?

When I figured out how we were going to get out of here, I’d need him to do his part.

Oh, hell. Maybe I was lying to myself. Maybe we weren’t going to get out of there.

I shivered. I couldn’t think that. I couldn’t.

*

One man was holding me, and my blanket was slipping. I couldn’t push it back up, because I didn’t have use of my arms. It was sliding down, nearly exposing my breasts. If struggled, it would fall even further, so I stayed still. I was angry.

Marcel was kneeling next to Griffin, who was still sitting on the floor, staring into space. If Griffin noticed that I was being held down, he didn’t let on.

“We know each other pretty well, wouldn’t you say, Griffin?” Marcel’s voice was quiet and amiable. He didn’t sound like a monster, and that made him even more monstrous somehow. I wanted to leap on him and claw his eyes out.

Griffin didn’t answer.

Marcel grabbed Griffin’s shoulder.

He flinched away. His eyes flashed.

Marcel’s tone grew harsher. “Don’t we?”

“If you say so,” Griffin said.

“We have a past. We have a history, you and me.” Marcel’s voice was soft again. “I know things about you that no one else knows. And you’ve done things for me. Intimate things—”

Griffin turned on him. “We aren’t in jail, anymore, Marcel. You trying to admit to me that you prefer dicks over chicks? Well, I always suspected.”

Marcel rocked back on his heels. “Shouldn’t talk like that to me, Griffin.”

“You’re going to kill me anyway, right?” said Griffin. “What do I care?”

Marcel stood up. He strode over to me.

I glared at him.

He snatched my chin. “Bet he doesn’t have the slightest idea what to do with you, does he?”

“You know,” said Griffin, “near as I can see, I’m the only person here with a girlfriend, so if you’re trying to convince me you’re not gay—”

Marcel dug his fingers into my throat, and I cried out.

“If you want me to keep hurting her, by all means, keep talking, Griffin.”

Griffin hung his head.

Marcel let go of me.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I could get through this. I could be strong. Griffin needed me.

“It was never about that, and you know it, Griffin,” said Marcel. “It wasn’t about anything as pedestrian as sex. That’s not what I want.”

I opened my eyes. Marcel was kneeling down next to Griffin again. Griffin wasn’t looking at him.

“What I want,” said Marcel in his soft voice, “is to get inside here.” He tapped Griffin’s forehead. “I want to own you.”

Griffin looked disgusted. And terrified.

“I used to. You remember?”

“No,” said Griffin.

“No, you don’t remember, or no, I didn’t own you?”

“You didn’t own me.” Griffin was whispering, but he was somehow defiant.

“I’d argue with you,” said Marcel, getting to his feet, “tell you that I did, but I think you might be right. I think maybe you kept something back.” He strode back and forth. “You got yourself right in the middle of that fight, didn’t you?” He stopped and turned to Griffin. “You were trying to escape. Escape to the hospital, escape to death, I don’t think it mattered to you. You wanted away from me.”

Griffin swallowed.

“You shouldn’t have been able to want that,” said Marcel. “If I’d owned you the way I should, you wouldn’t have wanted anything except what I wanted you to want.”

I was horrified. How sick was this man? He was completely insane.

“You see, that was why I liked you so much in the beginning,” said Marcel. “You thought it was because you were young and soft and girly, didn’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Griffin said in a strangled voice.

“But that wasn’t why I liked you. It was a nice bonus, of course, because it made you appealing to other people, people who cared about things like that. You were easy to trade out, to use to get things I wanted.” Marcel reached out and caressed Griffin’s cheek.

Griffin gritted his teeth.

“But I liked you because there was a spark. Something very independent. And I thought you’d be a challenge. I wanted to make you mine. That was all. I would have done it, too, Griffin. But I got interrupted. You got in that fight, you got pulverized, and they took you away. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. But I never forgot about you. I always wanted to finish what I started. And now I have the chance.”

Oh Jesus, he couldn’t be serious. What was he going to do to Griffin? What was he going to do to me? How could someone this horrible exist?

“No,” rasped Griffin.