The Submissive's Last Word (The Power to Please #4) (15 page)

“Why haven’t you paid them off yourself, then?”

“I tried, but they’re greedy. They want more than I’ve got.”

Gibson eyed his angry cousin. “I assume that means you’ve
offered them something specific.”

“Yes, the night they brought me here. They laughed at me.”

“I see. That explains the attempted bribery charge they have
against you.”

“What?” In his outrage, he jerked on his chains and cursed
every man, woman and child in Belize. His tantrum attracted the disapproval of
the jail guards as well as Gibson’s two bodyguards.

The four large men closed in around him. Michael muttered a
few more oaths then recognized it was in his best interests to calm down. His
eyes blazed but he shut his mouth.

“If you’re calmed down now,” Gibson said, “I think I’ll step
outside and see what, if anything, the inspector has worked out with his
brother. Nonnie will keep you company in the meanwhile.”

He stood, laid a comforting hand on my shoulder which also
served as his mark, his claim on my person. Then with a brisk nod, he left the
room, leaving the bodyguards in the room with me.

I had yet to say a word to Michael during his conversation
with Gibson. Whenever he looked at me, it was with a certain distrust, a
suspicion and a question of what I was doing there.

After the door closed behind Gibson, Michael sat up
straighter in his chair and gave me a tentative smile.

“Sweet,” he began, “you can’t know what it’s like to see you
here. You’re so beautiful in this ugly place. You’re a sight. Your perfume is
the best thing I’ve smelled in weeks.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “You think I’m a
moron.”

His surprise appeared genuine. “I was simply complimenting
you. You don’t know what it’s like in here, being confined, cut off.”

It should have been odd, speaking in front of the guards and
bodyguards, but they were a necessity, so I ignored them and what they might
think of our conversation, what they might think of me. I didn’t care.

“You’re in jail, Michael. You’re filthy, disgusting, and you
smell like last month’s garbage. And yet, you’re flirting with me.
Unbelievable.”

“It’s not kind of you to point out my lack of hygiene. I
haven’t exactly had a choice of late.”

“Yeah, I’m the asshole here.”

He shrugged. “No, I know you probably still hate me for what
I did. Is that why you’re here? I admit that I don’t understand you traveling
all this way to see me.”

“Maybe I just wanted to let you know that your plan didn’t
work. That I’m fine and you didn’t destroy me. In fact, I’m better than I ever
was.”

“I’m glad,” he said, putting on his best sincere expression,
made all the more poignant by the dark circles under his eyes. “I shouldn’t
have done what I did. I realized it not long afterward. I let my emotions get
the better of me.”

“I see. Did your remorse come around the same time you fled
the country to avoid Gibson?”

“No. It wasn’t that. I woke up finally, realized I had lost
control. I was jealous, Sweet. I never had any intention of posting those vids
of you. Then I saw you with Gibson and I didn’t think it through. I just acted.
I was wrong. I’m okay, now, seeing that you’re still with Gibson, and glad that
I didn’t take that from you after all.”

“Wow.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think. You don’t know how many
hours I’ve spent, reliving the past. Most of what I think about is the time I
spent with you. You were special to me, always, even when I blew it.”

I noted that his hands trembled slightly when he spoke. I
reached into my bag and pulled out a few snack bars I brought along for the trip.
After holding them up for the guards to see and getting a nod from them, I slid
the packages across the table to Michael.

He grabbed them up greedily and tore into one right away,
his wrists straining against the shackles and his head ducking to reach the
food. He ate half a bar in one bite, closing his eyes in rapture as he chewed
madly. It was impossible not to pity him.

Within a few minutes, he gulped down both bars.

“I’d give you more, but that’s all I’ve got,” I said.

“You’re an angel. That’s the best food I’ve ever eaten in my
life.”

“Good.”

“You always were special, Sweet. I mean that. Here you are,
giving me food after what I did to you. You’re lovely. I know I’m foul-smelling
and you couldn’t possibly —”

“I’d like to know something, Michael.”

“Anything.”

“The night of my punishment, the night of the video in fact,
everything that happened. Were you moved by it in any way? I mean, it was like
a watershed moment for me, and I think that what hurt the most about your
betrayal was that it meant nothing to you, it was all just a con job so you
could make a cheap buck.”

“That’s not true. It meant something to me. I told you that.
I didn’t know how incredible you were until that night. I swear, I cared about
you, and would have sent away the crew if I could have. Actually I did send
them off as soon as I could.”

“I see. That’s something anyway.”

“I want you back, still. I realize you’re with Gibson and
you probably don’t want me after what I did, but I can’t help wishing for it.”
He gave me a defeated and thoroughly sorry look.

I stiffened. “There’s one more thing I was hoping you could
clear up.”

He waved a hand, chains clinking, indicating I should
proceed.

“The last night we were together,” I said, “when we were at
your apartment with Kamun. You recall that night, right?”

“Of course. It’s the night you left me.”

“Right. So, you had Kamun there to make it up to him for
driving him off the night of my punishment. Correct?”

“Well —”

“Never mind. I know I’m correct. I’ve wondered though, when
you were in your little room watching Kamun and I on the monitor, did you
decide to come running before or after I shoved Kamun to the ground? I’m just
trying to get the timeline straight.”

He flinched, visibly. “I ... I ... should have destroyed
those files before I left. I should have realized you’d find them.”

“Interesting,” was all I said. I waited, trying my best to
maintain an expressionless facade.

After an uncomfortable minute or two, he couldn’t stop
himself from breaking the silence. “Of course I came running as soon as I heard
you use the safe word and I realized you were actually scared. I would have
stopped him, but you shoved him down before I got there. I protected you from
him, if you remember, when he came after you.”

“Oh yes, I remember that night well, Michael. And I’ve
thought about it many times because I still had questions about the parts of
your story that didn’t add up.”

He licked his lips, a nervous gesture.

“Knowing whether or not you recorded me that night was a way
of answering those questions. And now, I have the answers. I didn’t know for
sure there was a video until you just confirmed it.”

“Fuck. Listen, it’s not what you think. I ...”

He didn’t finish his sentence, his voice trailing away. I
could see him frantically thinking, trying to come up with some justification,
some cover story.

I was in no mood to wait for his excuses. “I’m glad to know
the truth of that night. There was no misunderstanding. You would have let
Kamun rape me, you would have watched it in fact, if I hadn’t fought back,
because you didn’t want to stop him twice.”

“God no. That’s not true. I just said I was coming to help.
It was all a mistake. And I didn’t realize how upset you were.”

“I don’t want to hear any more. I’ve gotten all the answers
I need.”

He made a few more weak stabs at explanation, but I wasn’t
listening. I was too busy determining my verdict. While Michael tried to
rewrite history, I decided his future.

My choices were simple. One was to save him, to ask Gibson
to spare Michael, and to do whatever was necessary to free him. Gibson had
already told me this would be a simple thing to do if that’s what I wanted.
Michael had been right about what money, lots and lots of money, could buy.

The other choice was to tell Gibson I didn’t want him to
intercede on Michael’s behalf, that I wanted Michael to stay put and deal with
the consequences of his actions. Basically, let him rot in jail until an
alternative revealed itself, or never at all, for that matter.

If I told Gibson yes, Michael could be out of jail in hours,
and heading home with us. If I told Gibson no, who knew when or if Michael
would ever leave this place.

I thought about what he’d done to me. I thought about what
he’d done to others before me, women like Lilly. And an image of Rose passed
through my mind. I also thought about the Castillo woman he and Kamun had been
with, wondered if the accusations of rape and assault were true or if they were
manufactured by a protective, deluded father. I couldn’t know for certain. My
best guess was that it was a mixture of fact and fiction.

Mostly though, I thought about how many other women Michael
would hurt in the future. He had never been forced to deal with the
consequences of his actions. I doubted dealing with them now would change his
character in any way, but it might make him less likely to take advantage in
the future. He might think twice. For once.

My decision was clear.

Michael gave me a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to
hurt you.”

I didn’t smile back. “I’m over it. Don’t worry. I thought
that I needed you to care about me and what happened between us. Turns out, I
don’t need your validation for any of it. I don’t require anything from you at
all. I’m done.”

“You can’t mean that, Sweet.”

“It doesn’t even bother me that you’re still calling me that
silly nickname. I just don’t care. I feel practically nothing. I’m going to see
what’s keeping Gibson.”

I stood up and headed to the door, ignoring Michael’s
request that I stay, that I give him a chance to tell his side, to explain
better. I turned the knob and left him talking as I closed the door behind me.

Flanked by the other two bodyguards, Gibson waited in the
hall. I thrilled inside, felt an inward pull toward his sturdiness, his clean,
honest self. He gave me an inquiring look.

“I’d like to leave him here,” I said.

A satisfied smile spread across Gibson’s face. “You’re doing
the right thing.”

“I think so, too.”

He hugged me, and kissed my forehead. “Shall we go finish
it?”

“Yes please.”

And we turned back to the door.

Michael cut the supplicant act when Gibson and I returned to
our former spots at the table. He eyed Gibson with eager expectation.

“What did he say? How much do they want?” Michael asked.

“There is interest in monetary reparations. However, I’m not
going to pay it. And as you said, you personally don’t have the funds to do
it.”

Michael stared in astonishment, then his expression shifted
to anger. “You’re not going to pay it? You can’t leave me in this hellhole. I’m
your family! You can’t do that.”

“It wouldn’t be ethically responsible of me to bail you out
on this one. How will you ever learn your lesson if you’re never taught one?”

“What lesson? The bitch is lying about me. We’re talking
rape, Gibson. That could mean a life sentence if they find me guilty. You can’t
possibly —”

“Exactly. And there’s the charges of assault and attempted
bribery. All in all, it doesn’t look good for you. You might get lucky and
they’ll let you stay at this local jail. Mr. Castillo doesn’t relish the idea
of putting his daughter through a trial. It would be simpler to let you cool
your heels here, indefinitely.”

Michael turned to me. “He can’t be serious. Tell him not to
do it.”

I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but Gibson cut
me off with, “Nonnie’s got nothing to do with this. It’s between me and you.”

Michael looked angrier than I had ever seen him, his wolfish
eyes burning with hate. “Our fathers were brothers and this is how you treat
me? My uncle would never approve of this. He always said family is the most
important thing.”

Gibson hardly blinked. “True, he probably wouldn’t approve
of my not trying to help in some way. So I’ve decided I will help you, but not
how you want.”

“Don’t be cryptic. Just tell me.”

“I’ve brokered a deal for you with Mr. Castillo. He’s a
devout Roman Catholic.”

“What kind of deal? And I don’t care what religion he is.”

“You should. Mr. Castillo is concerned about his daughter’s
reputation, her spiritual safety, and what he wants more than anything, is to
ensure that she has a respectable future. He’s willing to drop all charges
against you on the condition that you make an honest woman of his daughter.”

Michael’s jaw dropped. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. Marry Miss Castillo and your troubles are over. Or
anyway, you’ll get out of jail. This jail.”

“Make an honest woman of her? That’s a joke. She’s a slut
who’s slept with half the district and she’s an idiot on top of that. I had her
blow me just to shut her up. The only thing she’s got going for her is a good
pair of tits and those won’t last much longer.”

I glowered at his description of the woman, but Gibson
didn’t seem put off by it.

“It may be as you say,” Gibson said. “And perhaps that’s why
Mr. Castillo is so eager to find a husband for his daughter that he’ll actually
consider you as a candidate for son-in-law. He made it clear, by the way, that
you’ll stay in country after the wedding. To ensure this, he’ll retain your
passport. He says that if you satisfy his daughter then you can all work and
live together, and everything will be well.”

“And if I don’t tow their line,” Michael said, “his
implication is that a widow is as respectable as a matron.”