Page 34 of Brutal

Had I said that? I don’t even remember.

“It’s going to overflow,” I point out quietly.

He snarls at me, but he turns it off with a jerky motion. “Answer my fucking question,” he snaps.

I vaguely remember having this same conversation before. He’d been amused by my audacity then, but now? Now it’s like this is a whole new person, a whole new monster under my bed just waiting to pounce.

“Somebody betrayed him, so he took me,” I say, looking away from Brutal. “And then I was mouthy at him. Guess I just never learn my lesson.”

“You really don’t,” he says, sneering at me. “I want more details, Mimi. I want to get to know you.” The mocking smile on his lips stays there, even as he shoves my face back down under the water.

It doesn’t get any better this time around. I keep my eyes and mouth shut, but the longer he holds me down, the more my lungs burn. My eyes prickle, as if I could cry underwater.

He yanks me back up forcefully, and I gasp hard.

“Well?” he demands while I’m still coughing.

My mind is so focused on breathing that I don’t know what he wants. Brutal shakes me forcefully, making me whimper.

“Tell me! Who pissed him off? And what the fuck is your name, Mimi?”

There’s a part of me that wants to keep my name to myself. This is mine. He can’t have it.

But the other part of me really, really doesn’t want to drown. “M-my sister,” I say. “She pissed him off. And… and my name is… Amber.”

“Amber what?” he asks impatiently, his fingers tightening in my hair like he’s about to dunk me into the water again. “C’mon, Mimi. Let’s get this going. I’m just trying to have a nice chat here. You’re the one making it difficult.”

“Amber Grayson!” I tremble and reach for the edge of the tub once more.

Brutal bursts out laughing. “Amber Gray? Really? Your parents were on a color theming trip?” He shakes his head. “Mimosa is way better.”

At this point, I don’t care what the fuck he calls me, as long as he doesn’t dunk me underwater again.

“Amber just doesn’t have as much of a ring to it. Sounds more like a stripper name, though.” He’s still chuckling — but at least he doesn’t force me back under the water. “Tell me more about you, Mimi.” His fingers turn almost gentle in my hair. “And I’ll give you a nice bath before you go clean up your messes. You haven’t forgotten about those, have you? I sure as fuck haven’t.”

Fuck, I hate him. He truly is everything I’ve loathed about men and society, all in one over-privileged, entitled package.

But there’s nothing I can do about it. I hiccup and shake my head. “I haven’t forgotten.” I stare down at the water, and more subdued, I ask, “What do you want to know?”

“How did your sister piss him off?” He flashes me a wolfish smile. “I mean, fuck, it had to be pretty bad for him to go pick you up. Unless you were already a whore before all of this. I don’t think you were, though.”

No, I wasn’t a whore before all this. I didn’t even date before all this.

“She was a dancer at one of his clubs,” I say. My breathing has evened out, but I don’t trust him not to try to drown me again. “Then she decided to take a higher paying offer at another club. Giulio Pavone was not happy about it.”

Brutal chuckles at that, seemingly satisfied by that answer. I wonder if he’d have known if I lied about any of this. Probably. He seems like the type who’d sniff out the answers and punish me for telling him a half-truth. His mood has lifted, and all it took was a few partial drownings and a bit of truth.

“And what were you doing before you got whisked away to a life of luxury?” he asks.

“I told you, a student.” His grip on my hair turns more painful, and I quickly add, “A psych student!”

He doesn’t seem amused anymore. “Yeah? That’s why you have to psychoanalyze everything I do? Because that was your fucking passion? Well, I don’t need a goddamn therapist, so I hope you don’t expect to hear all about my childhood trauma.”

The fact that he says he has childhood trauma tells me a lot, though — not that it comes as a surprise. The situation really is fucking absurd.

“Okay,” I answer, because what else can I say that isn’t going to set him off more than I already have? “I expect nothing.”

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re learning, at least. Guess you can teach a bitch new tricks.” He tugs on my hair again. “I guess you’re clean enough. Get out of the tub and lean over it. I wanna fuck.”