Home > Behind His Eyes - Consequences (Consequences #1.5)(17)

Behind His Eyes - Consequences (Consequences #1.5)(17)
Author: Aleatha Romig

“You haven’t eaten much of your dinner,” Tony assessed.

She shook her head. “I guess I’m not hungry. I think traveling wore me out. I believe I just need to get some sleep.”

He smirked. “You napped today.”

Her eyes widened as they immediately looked to him. He loved the mixture of emotions that he witnessed flashing before him. Behind the green, he saw the realization that she’d just been caught in her attempt to sway the course of the evening. As a bonus, she also received confirmation of his ability to visually intrude into all aspects of her life. In all actuality, it had been Catherine who’d told him she’d napped, yet if Claire thought it was another example of his omnipresent power, who was he to dissuade her?

Softly, she replied, “Yes, I did; however, I’m not feeling well.”

He grinned as he pushed back his chair and extended his hand. “Then, my dear, let’s leave dinner behind.”

Her eyes lightened as she placed her hand in his and stood. “Thank you.”

“Oh, there’s no need to thank me. I do, however, find it interesting that after all of these months, you believe you have the power to manipulate me and alter my plans.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, peering at him through her lashes.

When they walked through the sunporch and into the house, Claire turned toward the foyer. Tony’s touch redirected her movements. “No, my dear, we aren’t going upstairs.” She inhaled and looked down. Tony lifted her chin. “I am a man of my word. I promised you something special tonight, and I fully intend to deliver.”

“Tony, please … I-I’m really not feeling well. I think it was the trip. It was great to go someplace, but I’m not used to being away from here. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“But you see,” he mocked, “I won’t be here tomorrow, so our movie night can’t wait.”

He felt her tremble as they changed direction and headed for the lower level. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head and took a ragged breath. “N-no, I don’t want to do this.”

As they walked down the stairs, he pulled her close. When his lips grazed her ear, her neck stiffened. Seductively, he whispered, “You’ve said that before. Has it ever stopped my plans?”

Her shoulders sagged. “No.”

“Then, my dear, experience should tell you that it won’t change my plans for tonight. I want you to see what an amazing future you have in movies. You’re a star! We can be like those reviewers on television, both saying what we like and what we don’t like about each scene. Of course, that’ll be from a totally outside objective view. What we like while making the movies, our subjective preferences, will be incredibly obvious. Oh, you’ll see in a few minutes.” He released his hold, allowing her to settle onto one of the large, overstuffed seats. Although her eyes were downcast, wetness covered her cheeks, and her shoulders shuddered in silence. He chuckled. “Since you didn’t eat, and this is like a premiere, would you like me to call the kitchen for popcorn?”

She shook her head. The movement was so slight. Had it not been for the movement of her hair hanging over her face, he wouldn’t have seen it.

Tony cleared his throat, reached for her chin, and brushed the renegade strands away. He wasn’t going to allow her to hide her thoughts from him. There was too much happening behind those damn green windows. His words came slowly, deliberately, and with painstaking control. “I asked you a question. Do you really want me to repeat it?”

“No, I heard you.” Her voice grew stronger, starting at a whisper and becoming bold. “No, I don’t want popcorn. I want this over.” She started to stand. “I don’t want it over!” She looked him in the eye. “I don’t want it to start!”

His chest met hers. “But it will.” His tone left no room for debate.

Obediently, her knees buckled and she collapsed back into her soft chair.

As Tony reached for the remote, Claire asked, “Why? What’s the point in this? I know what’s happened. Why do you want me to see it?”

His sinister smile returned, as did the tightness in his slacks. If Claire hadn’t been so preoccupied, she’d undoubtedly have noticed. “You seemed surprised that these videos exist. I want you to understand: I’m a man of my word. If I say something exists, it exists. If I say you will do something, you will do it. There are no gray areas. Do you understand?”

“I do.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I didn’t doubt you.” Crying interrupted her speech. “I-I don’t doubt you.” More tears. “I don’t need to see.”

“That’s enough,” he growled. He was done talking and done listening.

Tony hit a button on the remote, lowered the lights in the room, and opened the video library menu. He leaned over to emphasize his point. “I’m not interested in hearing any more. Don’t push me further.” She didn’t speak; instead, she swallowed, nodded, and tilted her tear-dampened face toward the screen which now contained dates and locations.

He’d given this a lot of thought. They had all night to view. So why not start at the beginning? Tony chose 2010, March 20, S.E Suite, and programmed the time: 8:00 AM. Before he hit ENTER, he glanced in her direction. The look he saw told him that she knew the date—and already knew what she was about to see.

The screen came to life; it was Claire’s suite:

 

She was wearing a white robe and lay curled up on the floor near the hall door. There was a beep and the door opened. Claire jumped, hearing the sound and seeing Tony enter.

“Good morning, Claire.” Claire looked at him.

“Good morning, Anthony. I want you to know, I’ve decided to go home. I’ll be leaving here today.”

 

He couldn’t contain the chuckle that rose in the back of his throat. Obviously, things didn’t proceed as she’d planned.

 

On the screen, with his eyes dark, he smiled and spoke, “Do you not like your accommodations?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I don’t believe you’ll be leaving so soon. We have a legally binding agreement …” He took a bar napkin from his suit pocket. “… dated and signed by both of us.”

 

“Please, Tony. I don’t want to see this.” Claire covered her eyes with her hands.

He’d warned her to stop this ridiculous display. Roughly grasping her wrists, he pulled them away from her eyes. Through clenched teeth he growled, “I promised a viewing. I said you would watch—and you will watch.”

He tightly held her wrists to her lap as the video progressed in real time:

 

Claire was speaking, her voice high-pitched and filled with desperation. “It is not the end of this discussion. This is ludicrous. An agreement doesn’t give you the right to rape me! I’m leaving.”

Tony’s hand contacted Claire’s left cheek.

 

Tony released Claire’s wrists and her hand moved to her cheek. He watched to be sure she wasn’t trying to cover her eyes again, but she wasn’t. Looking back to the screen, he saw himself talking:

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