'Don't hold back,' Harper murmurs, so quietly I can barely hear her. 'If he thinks you're holding back he'll get suspicious. I can take it.'
I sit back and pick up the whip. I can feel both Gabriel and Mal's eyes on me, wondering what I'm about to do. A lot is riding on this. If we want to get out of here alive I need to play my part. So squaring my shoulders I get myself exactly where I need to be. For anyone wondering where that is, it's in a twelve by eight-foot prison cell with Micas standing opposite me.
'Well, well, well,' I purr, donning some familiar armour, 'it appears I have you right where I want you, Miss Wilkinson.' Running the fronds of the whip gently down her back, I watch her shiver. I need to pad this out with as many actions and words as I can. The sooner Mal tires of this little production, the better.
'Get away from me,' Harper grits, and she puts some real venom into the words. I wonder how much of her life has been an act in the last few years. If I had to bet, I'd say almost all of it. We have more in common than I thought.
Bringing my hand down sharply I slap her ass.
'Ah, I don't think so, precious. I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun in the next couple of hours. Isn't that right, Wilkinson?' I don't want to use her first name. It's easier to keep this impersonal if I use her surname. Later I'll just use something derogatory, but I can't call her Harper. If I do, every time I think of her after this episode will be marred with violence, and the thought is horribly sobering.
'Mal, stop this madness,' Harper yells, and begins to rattle the bedframe. I'm sure the bastard is lapping it all up behind us, but we both know he isn't going to call a halt to the proceedings.
Giving her another sharp slap I grab her ass, exactly as Mal had, and knead it with cruel pressure. After the spankings and Gabriel's belt she's going to go into meltdown when I tear into her, but we have no choice. We're out of options.
'In a minute, I'm going to do just what we promised earlier. Both of us are going to fuck you in every hole you possess, and we aren't going to be gentle about it. We're going to eat you alive, Wilkinson, and we're going to make you scream.' There. That should keep the big dog happy.
'Shut the fuck up and whip her.' Or not. Mal utters those words dryly, as if he's seen this all before, and if that's the case, why is he even bothering? Hell if I know. Maybe he's just a really impatient man. Still, the time for stalling is over. I've got to get on with it. Bringing my arm up, I flick the fronds of the whip forward with no warning. They connect on her lower back with a sharp crack, and she sucks in a breath. She can cope with that, but if I start on her ass she's going to freak out. It's already a mess. I'm going to avoid that area at all costs. As it is, she'll be barely able to walk when I've finished. The only reason I'm moving is because I'm running on adrenaline. When that stops I'm going to be a cripple for the next few days.
'What the fuck was that? Put some effort into it. If your best buddy could rip you to shreds, you should be able to make mincemeat of the most hated woman in your life, surely? Or is there something you're not telling me here?' Mal begins pacing up and down, which is never a good sign. This whole thing is a test. He wants to know if I still care about her. That's why she's being such a bitch. She wants to send the message out loud and clear that we can't stand each other. That way there may be a chance he'll let Gabriel and me go. It's not a good plan, though. I can't leave her in his hands. You only need to take one look at Mal to know what he's capable of, and I don't want to be within three miles of him. I need to get her out of here. If I can't do it now, I at least need to be alive to get the job done later, when I can gut the man like a fish. Actually, forget fish. I'm going to slice the bastard in two, and I'm going to start between his legs.
Taking a big, theatrical sigh, I sit up and regard him carefully. I'm buggered if I'm going to kowtow to him. If he wants to shoot me, he can. Otherwise, I'm running this show.
'Oh, she's going to get hers,' I say, 'but I like to start slow. If I rip into her right from the start she'll be in tears within seconds, and unconscious in minutes. No one is going to enjoy themselves very much if that happens, are they?' Mal inclines his head to the side as he takes that in. It's not what he was expecting. Good.
'You really do hate her, huh? I always wondered if you harboured some idea of getting back together with her. She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?' If he's trying to keep me off guard it isn't working. I'm used to reading people and having eyes in the back of my head. It's one of the only reasons I'm still alive.
'Oh no, I worship the ground she walks on,' I say sarcastically. 'Fucking slut had me put away for five years to cover up her shit. We're this close, we are.' I hold my hand in the air and cross my index and middle finger over one another. It's about the only way I can stick my middle finger up at him and get away with it.
Mal's lips twist wryly. 'I told her you'd hate her guts. I'm rarely wrong.' Yeah, well, you royally screwed up this time, mastermind. We were tangled up in the bedsheets not moments ago.
'What are you planning on doing to her, when I've finished with her? Is she going back to your castle, or have you had enough of her?' Turning away from Mal, I bring the whip down sharply on Harper's back, three times in quick succession. She screams out loud and her body goes rigid in shock. I feel like a complete bastard, but what choice do I have? There are guns everywhere. To do anything else would be suicide. If Harper can put me away for five years to save her hide, she can take a beating for mine - although it might kill me to deliver it.
'You like inflicting pain, Browning?' Mal's behind me. The fucker is looking over my shoulder as I work. I want to spin round and smash my fist through his face, but that is not a good idea.
'Is it that obvious?' I say instead, releasing another series of horrible volleys against Harper's back. I hope he stops this soon, but I have a terrible feeling he won't.
'You were a weedy little thing when you were put inside,' he comments. 'I didn't think you'd last a month.'
This confirms that everything Harper has told me is the truth. Mal wanted me put inside, and he wanted me dead. Interesting. I didn't realise I posed such a threat. I now know better. I need to watch myself around her; if we appear anything more than enemies I'm in trouble. It's all beginning to make sense.
'Sorry to disappoint.' My voice is clipped.
'My, you're a cold one. You're not what I was expecting.'
I'd love to know what he was expecting. Fluffy bunnies, coupled with hearts and flowers?
'So would you be after five years in jail,' I point out calmly. I then unleash my temper on Harper's back with a series of slices that would have the devil himself screaming in agony. Sure enough, Harper loses the plot.
'Sure you want me to carry on?' I ask Mal. 'She's going to be virtually catatonic if I continue, but I'm game if you are.' I'm not. She will never forgive me for this, and I can't say I blame her. When I receive no response from Mal I take his silence as permission to continue. Drawing my hand back, I decide I'm going to keep at it, as hard as I can until she passes out. At least she won't have to be fucked over by two men at the end of it. There's some shit you can never wipe clean.