Page 42 of His Brother's Wife
“It’s me, Ama.” Selima. Ama let out a long breath. She was in Selima’s room, on top of her bed. Selima poured a cup of water for her.
“They brought you here last night, late. Jackson said we could stay together now. He looked …weird.”
Ama sipped the cold water and closed her eyes. Last night had been the worst, most degrading, most humiliating night of her life, but she couldn’t break down. Not with Selima still here. Selima put her arms around her sister.
“Talk to me.”
“I can’t,” Ama whispered. “I never want you to know what happened.”
Her words were enough to make Selima start to weep gently. “Oh, no, no, Ama, no …”
Ama hugged her back tightly before releasing her. “I need to bathe.”
Selima helped her undress and tried not to let the horror fill her eyes as she looked at the cuts, welts, and bruises on her sister’s body. Ama felt broken, and as she stepped into the tub, she winced as the hot water stung her wounds.
She felt disconnected from herself, completely soulless and empty. Jackson had done things to her which she would not allow herself to think of and would certainly never tell Selima ...or Enda. Jackson was a monster, an aberration of a human, and Ama knew now there was only one way she could save her sister, and that was to sacrifice herself.
After she had bathed, she knocked on the door. The guard opened it. “Tell Jackson I want to see him. Now. I have a proposal for him.” The guard nodded and was about to shut the door when Ama stopped. “And tell him to bring his favorite knife.”
Selima’s eyes opened wide, but Ama shook her head at her. “I know what to do now, Selima. I’m getting you out of here. So, for the next few minutes, when Jackson gets here, I want you to go into that bathroom and give me some space. Don’t listen to what I’m saying. Can you do that?”
Selima nodded, her eyes terrified. When Jackson arrived, Selima went into the bathroom. Ama faced her husband.
Jackson studied her and smiled. “You look beautiful.”
Ama stared back at him, then dropped her robe. “Am I? Do you like me bruised, cut, and wounded, Jackson?”
He grinned widely. “I think you know the answer to that.”
“I do.” She walked towards him, naked. “You get off on hurting women; it’s what fuels you, yes?”
She grabbed his hand, the one with the knife, and stepped closer so that the tip of the blade pressed against her belly. “Do it, Jackson. You know you want to. Run me through.”
Jackson’s eyes grew wary and he jerked the knife away from her. “Why would I want to do that …especially after we discovered new realms of pleasure together last night.”
God …there wasn’t a word for how vile he was. “Do you want to do it again?”
“Of course.”
“Then here’s my proposal. Let my sister go, unharmed. You or one of your goons delivers her to a hospital, in whatever state you like. When I see she’s safe on the television, I’ll go with you anywhere. I’ll doanythingwith you. They need never find us.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. “And what if I don’t?”
“Then pick up that knife and kill me now. Because if you think I’m going to let you touch me ever again after last night, after what you did to me, without me getting something in return …”
His hand shot up and grabbed her throat. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll keep your end of the bargain if I let Selima go?”
Ama stared back, her gaze cool. “You don’t. But then you get to kill me and jerk off over my dead body. It’s a win-win for you.”
Jackson was quiet for a long moment. “You know how this will end eventually, don’t you, Amalia? Your blood on my hands.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He released her, and she stepped back, pulling her robe on. Would he go for it? Ama realized she was holding her breath.
Jackson nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.”
