Page 127 of Hard to Judge

I hit the same spot again. “Count!”

The scream of a madman rattles up his chest, rips through his throat, and spews into the room.

Hailey jerks in her seat, while my heart lurches, bumping into my ribs.

“You told me I was worthless. That nobody loved me. That the world would be better if I didn’t exist.” Arlo’s neck strains with every word.

I’m losing him.

Maybe I have to in order to get him back.

“Eighteen, Hotaru.” Hailey’s soft voice filters over me.

When I finally pull my gaze away from Arlo, she nods for me to continue. So, I do.

“Nineteen, Hotaru.” She counts for him.

Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.

Arlo sobs at the last blow. His head falls forward. His shoulders hunch. Sorrow saws in and out, rattling his lungs and shaking his entire body.

I don’t have the will to move on to his back.

My hand is tired, and my fucking heart is shattered in pieces at my feet.

When I look at Hailey for reassurance, her face is slick with tears. Her lower lip trembles. Her hands are fists in her lap, and her eyes are on the broken man between us.

One by one, my fingers loosen on the crop handle. My only recourse is to crawl to him and join in his sorrow. Hailey will come too. I know she wants to comfort him in any way she can.

Just before I release the flogger, Arlo jerks the chains. His entire body turns toward the ghost at his back. As much as the restraints allow.

“You were wrong,” Arlo spits. “You were wrong. The world is better without you in it. And I am loved. My parents loved me. My brother loved me.” He heaves a breath. “Even battered and broken, Hota and Hailey love me.” His sobs turn into a laugh. “You are a liar and an abuser. You’re dead, and you can’t hurt me anymore.”

Arlo turns to face me.

His face is soaked in tears and sweat, but his eyes are clear. “Finish this.”

I want to throw the flogger down and bow at his knees. I want to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. It’s not what he needs right now.

“Hailey?” I bark her name.

“Yes?” She nods.

“Kneel in front of him.” I point at a spot a yard away, where they can see each other but not touch.

“Yes, Sir.” She wipes at her tears with the back of her hands and rushes to comply.

“Good girl.” I kneel next to her, grab her face, and lick away the tears she missed. I yank her lips to mine and kiss her deeply. Within seconds, her tongue chases mine. I turn us so Arlo can see, and we can see him. I lick deep inside her mouth and let the spit connect our mouths as I pull away, sealing my gaze to Arlo’s. “Count ten more for me and you can have a taste.”

“Yes, Sir.”

My head rests in the crook of Hailey’s neck. I suck a breath so sharp, her neatly tamed hair skitters over my lips. Pain bolts up my side and down my leg. The adrenaline has long since worn off. Instead, it knits itself with the cortisol from the other lashes, the dopamine from Hota’s ardent praise, and the serotonin from touching Hailey’s skin and breathing her in.

It’s like I’m feeling everything so intensely I’ve gained superpowers.

Sweat rolls off my back and tickles every pore on its way to soak into my pants. Hailey’s heartbeats sound like music, lulling me. I can still taste her decadent mouth on my tongue. Every graze of the flogger is one step closer to becoming Hota’s.

“Thirty-seven, Hota.” I push through my dry throat.

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