Page 48 of Stolen Faith
If I don’t break, then you don’t get to either.
“Don’t bother to lie.” Cast Man grabbed Juliette’s jaw, squeezing so hard her teeth hurt. “I know you took a blood oath and had an orgy when you pledged yourself to your illuminati cult.”
“Cult? I’m a lobbyist,” Devon protested. “I—”
“You were trying to infiltrate the government of this great country. It’s corrupted because of men like you who turned us from a God-fearing nation.” He released Juliette’s jaw, then forced her to turn, face to the wall.
The fear she’d been holding back, the fear she’d been fighting, slid through her. She wasn’t so brave now that she couldn’t see what was coming. Now that she couldn’t see Devon.
My favorite song. I’ll just listen to my favorite song.
“You’ll tell me the name of your other wife,” Cast Man said.
“I don’t have another wife. And that woman isn’t my wife. I just met her in the library—”
Something cold pressed against the side of Juliette’s head. A gun. For a moment, she was back in the library, looking at Franco as someone, maybe this very man, put a gun to her head.
Cast Man laughed. “I’m not going to kill her.” The gun disappeared.
There was a slick sound of leather sliding over fabric. A sound she knew. It was the sound a man’s belt made as it was pulled free of belt loops. How many times had she heard that sound, caused that sound, as she, Devon, and Franco rushed to undress in their eagerness to touch one another?
“Don’t touch her.” Devon’s voice was a low snarl.
Cast Man laughed again as he ran his hand down her bare back and ass. Juliette clenched her knees together.
This isn’t my body.
Cold slithered over her ass, and Juliette held her breath. He was running his belt over her.
She was bracing herself for rape, but maybe she was about to be whipped.
The first lash of his belt landed on the middle of her back, the tip of the leather belt wrapping around her side. Juliette bit down hard on the fabric in her mouth, grateful to have something to bite.
The second strike hit her upper back, the third her ass.
This isn’t my body.
“Fuck,” Cast Man said. “I can’t do it good with this hand. You do it.”
The fourth blow took her breath away. It felt like a hot poker had been laid across her back. The tip of the belt once more wrapped around her side, and the point where it hit felt like she’d been stabbed.
Cast Man had been using his nondominant hand. Now one of the other men had the belt, and they weren’t holding back.
Again and again, he lashed her back, from her shoulders down to her thighs.
This isn’t my body.
Except it was. It was her body, and it hurt. Oh God, it hurt so much.
Juliette couldn’t stop the tears. Couldn’t control her breathing, which hitched and stopped each time she was whipped.
“What’s your wife’s name, Grand Master?” Cast Man demanded.
“I don’t have a wife!” Devon insisted. “I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. We know how the Trinity Masters corrupts its members, Grand Master.”
The Trinity Masters. Grand Master.