Page 208 of Coal Hearts

“Good boy.” Tossing the remote back into his pocket, Victor turned his nasty attention on me. “Now drink, Henri.”

A snick sounded behind me as a gun’s safety flicked off.

Looking over my shoulder, I caught the blank stare of a guard. The muzzle of his gun mere inches from my skull.

My heart thundered.

My gut churned.

I looked at Ily breaking apart on the floor, then glanced at the alcohol in my hand.

If I hurt her sober, I would do it as part of our act. I would cut her as gently as I could. I would do what needed to be done with as much kindness as possible.

I rolled my eyes.

What an oxymoron.

Tender torture?

Fuck.

There was no such thing.

I was kidding myself.

All of this was a waste of fucking time.

I tried.

Christ, I tried.

If I hurt her when drunk...

If I played this game under the influence of hard liquor...if she so much as looked at me wrong or whimpered a fighting word...merde.

I would hurt her as the man I’d tried to hide from.

The monster I couldn’t contain.

The beast I couldn’t tame.

If I hit her drunk, the cage I existed in would spring open, and I’d become a fucking animal.

An animal far worse than any on the walls.

An animal my brother would happily slaughter.

“Choose, Henri,” Victor said ever so softly. “Only you get to choose who bleeds tonight. Her...or you.”

Her eyes met mine.

Sunshine blazed exquisitely bright, burning, burning, burning.

I’d chosen her at the club.

I’d picked her.

Condemned her.