Page 161 of Deep Cover

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Cole

We drove by her apartment. There were lights on in the window and as dusk fell we could see her fiancé. He got home, pulled off his scrubs top, wandered to the window with a beer in one hand and stared out.

He didn't look like anyone Annie would be with. Bland and white and in good shape but nothing spectacular. If I ordered her to leave him, would she? But I could lock her up again and he wouldn't ever know what had happened to her.

She watched the apartment but didn't seem stressed by seeing him. I wondered what would have happened if he'd been with someone else.

I had a feeling it might have been a relief.

Her parents were in Seattle, her father recovered and starting to run on a daily basis. Her mother was starting to drink on a daily basis, my sources told me. I asked her if she wanted to see them and she said no. I asked her if she wanted to see just him and she said no.

"I want to be totally clean. The last time I saw him, he knew."

I nodded.

"Sir?"

"Yes."

"Why are we here?"

Good. She'd asked. "It's a Wonderful Life," I said.

She looked horrified. "You're not going to make me watch that, are you?"

I gave her my most malicious grin. "Finally! The key to breaking Annie Knox!"

"Only if you don't want to ever put her back together!" she said, sounding almost for real panicked.

I let her linger in well-deserved horror before saying, "Just giving you a chance to see what’s happening here."

She gestured. "Mark's okay without me. I thought Wonderful Life pointed out Jimmy Stewart was important."

"Touché. But maybe we need to know where we matter and where we don't. What you saw at the school? That's since you've been gone. You're needed, Annie, though not necessarily at this level."

"I'm not suicidal," she said. Inadvisably . Sulkily.

I pulled her over my lap before she could even think to resist, yanked down her jeans and hit her so hard and so fast she was crying within seconds. When the sobs became deep-throated and raw and her ass was cherry red and a bit raw also, I relented. "Keep your pants down," I said. "Sit on that naked ass."

She gave a wet, ragged sob and did as I told her.

Still broken. For now I thought she could fall either way. Into submission. Or into the freedom of her own convictions.

Either would save her life. It was the limbo that needed to change.

"You're needed," I said. "You have a place. You have a purpose."

She gave me a long look, then shifted in the seat, yanking her jeans back up and fastening them. I watched, impassive. Let her have a petty victory for now. It was entirely possible she'd figure out someday that she'd been in control all along. Short of actually hurting her, I couldn't keep her from doing whatever she wanted to do. Contract or not.

It was her own will that kept her with me. That allowed me to do what I did to her. It was her own desire playing out. That didn't mean that when I pushed her she didn't hate it.

It also didn't mean that I wasn't doing it for more purpose than my own enjoyment.

Break her. Rebuild her. That had always been my plan.

"If you come back to Southern Nevada with me, there are going to be changes."

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