Page 154 of Deep Cover

Money makes the world go round.

When the ambulance moved off, lights reflecting through the still weirdly formal living room, the guests were already talking again. Chloe and Cecile were having some kind of conversation, their eyes flicking to me from time to time. I didn't want to see pity there, but I was surprised that, not only did they seem to have compassion, they also had a kind of respect. For what, I couldn't guess. Though I'd enjoyed my conversations with them, at this point I was pretty much consigning them to the lunatic category.

Nobody should respect me for anything I'd done tonight.

Cole came over to where I was standing, arms still wrapped around my own shoulders, his coat hanging on me enough to keep me decent.

"You are completely excused from the rest of the evening," he said to me, tilting my chin up so I looked him in the eye. "What happened to you was inexcusable, and your response was justified and acceptable."

I thought my response had been to scream and not much else, but if that was acceptable, well, fuck. Good thing. There wasn't anything else I could have done.

But I found myself saying, "Yes, sir." And making no move to leave.

"You may return to your room," he said. "I'll have someone escort you. If you choose to stay, it will be as if none of that happened. You'll be in the same place you were earlier tonight."

I expected to see a challenge in his eyes. Cole liked humiliating me, liked to hurt me and see what I'd do, and I thought he wasn't finished with his own games tonight. There was still Vincent to think about as well.

I was being given the option of keeping his clothing on my body and sitting out the rest of this.

There was a problem with that, though. I'd never been one to sit out. In Taekwon-Do I fought even when I was nauseated from heat and fatigue, I tried never to tap out. In weight lifting I went to failure and tried for one more rep.

This, this insanity I'd found myself in for no reason other than wanting a clean slate and a fresh start in my career, this wasn't anything I needed to prove anything to myself about.

Except? There was. Because when I'd watched Jason being beaten, I'd felt a twisting joy at the sight. And when he started to scream, I'd felt real regret that I hadn't chosen 40 rather than 30. I had been a part of what was going on, above and beyond what had been done to me. I felt a sick and wholly unhealthy need to make amends for that.

Not to Kie. If I had the chance, I'd hurt her.

Not to Jason, really. If I ran into him on the outside, I thought I'd still kill him if I could.

To me. I needed to know I hadn't run from what everyone else had to go through.

Stupid. Sick.

True.

"I'll stay, sir. If that's all right."

His eyes searched mine. There was no approval or disapproval. He simply nodded once. "Give me my coat," he said.

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