Page 239 of Chandelier Sin
I’d stepped into a fucking horror show. These were the kind of gruesome pieces you found in museums. The kind you shook your head at when trying to imagine the person who invented them. Or the kind of men who accepted orders to utilize them. High grade cruelty—from the metal rack to the large cage meant for a person.
Jesus, I knew who that was for.
My throat tightened. I felt reassured that I’d intercepted this sick game before he’d had the chance to use it on Eve.
“Very nice.” I walked around the room and ran my hand over each piece. “You’ve gathered quite the collection.”
“Let me show you what I’ve designed for Eve.”
My reaction would have given me away, but his back was turned away from me, giving me time to center myself. He’d really planned on placing her in there. My chest felt tight with grief for what she might have endured at his hands.
“You planned to ship all these back to the States?” I asked.
“You can only get this kind of artisan work done here.” He approached the vast cage.
The person destined to be trapped inside would be vulnerable to anything he wanted to do to them.
“Impressive,” I said. “May I?”
He motioned that he was happy for me to step inside.
With my throat feeling constricted, I did what any sane person would refuse to do—I climbed inside the adult-sized cage that hung a foot off the ground and tried it out, turning around in the small space, feeling claustrophobic.
I glanced down at the padlock and pulled the door closed on myself—like I trusted the man.
“Well, now I have you,” he jested.
“It wouldn’t work.” I nudged open the door. “She’d never get in this.”
“Then I’d have to be persuasive.”
“Perhaps I could coax her for you?” I arched a brow.
“You’ve developed a fascination with my wife.”
“The lock’s broken. You’ll have to get that fixed.” I climbed out.
He stepped forward to examine it. “No. Are you sure?”
I walked behind him. “Afraid so.”
He leaned in close to see.
With a shove, I pushed him inside. He slumped forward against the bars on the other side as I yanked the doors closed, locking him inside by securing the padlock.
He righted himself. “This your idea of a joke?”
“Maybe.” I grinned.
“I need time to prepare,” he said, wiping his brow. “I don’t like surprises.”
“So, what I’m hearing is you’re open to a session?”
“Hell no!”
“Then you’re not going to like what comes next,” I said.
“Open the fucking door!”
