as if she could taste Fawn’s fear. “Do you know where Beatrice Crichton is being hidden?”
“No.” Fawn’s voice was flat.
“Wrong answer.” Meredith’s voice was equally flat.
The knife went up, and the video captured the reflection of Fawn’s frightened look on its blade.
And then Meredith started to carve an X just below Fawn’s right eye, deep enough to gouge the flesh, deep enough to scrape against the bone, deep enough to prolong the pain without killing her victim.
Without killing Fawn.
On the small inlaid screen, the number one lit up, turning into blue.
And finally, the numbers began to make sense.
Someone began to cry.
Nick and Jason Christakos turned towards the prince, their whitened expressions saying everything they felt.
I’m sorry.
Everyone was crying—-
Except for the prince.
He remembered himself asking her, “May I ask...if you’re alright?”
He saw Fawn on her hospital bed, unable to face him in her pain, forced to raise her arm to give him a thumbs-up sign.
She was alright.
And he had chuckled—-
He had fucking chuckled.
In front of him, Fawn’s nightmare showed no signs of ending.
He watched Meredith snap her fingers, a man coming forward, leering at Fawn as he nearly shoved an iPad in Fawn’s face. Bile rose in his throat as he realized that the iPad showed a girl kissing him on the lips—-
“Do you still believe someone like this man would love you?”
“Yes.”
The knife went up.
The second mark took a little longer, Meredith wanting to draw a perfect circle on Fawn’s right cheek.
Fawn began to bleed again.
And the prince bled with her.
Oh God.
Oh God, why, why Fawn—-
Number 2 lit up on the screen and turned red.
And still the questions weren’t over.
“You say this man loves you, but he left you.”
“It’s to protect me—-”
The knife was on Fawn’s face before she could even finish speaking, and this time Meredith was obviously rough as she carved the other side of her victim’s face, marking Fawn’s left lower cheek with a crude circle.
Number 3 lit up on the screen, turning red.
“Stop being stubborn. He could have taken you with him, you know. But he didn’t. That means he doesn’t love you. It’s simple as that.”
And still Fawn didn’t answer.
“It’s your life on the line, not his. So let me ask you again. Where is Beatrice Crichton?”
“I don’t know.”
Meredith went back to carving.
It was another circle, marking the right side of Fawn’s forehead, and number 4 lit up on the screen, turning red.
Meredith’s tone became conversational. “Why are you so loyal to him? Is it because he fucked you so good?” She didn’t wait for Fawn to answer. “Oh, wait, you don’t need to answer that. I’m being a dumb fuck again. Of course he had to have fucked you good. Duh. He’s the Prince of Darkness, after all.”
She looked at Fawn contemplatively. “What about you? Do you fuck just as good?”
Before Fawn could answer, someone out of the video leered, “I can answer that for you. Just give me a taste.”
The sound of raucous laughter filled the screen, and the prince’s blood ran cold as he realized together with everyone in the courtroom that there was more than one man in the room with Fawn.
“Do you hear that, Fawn? I can have them answer it for me, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt fellow girls. Girl power, you know? So tell you what, if you tell me the truth about how good you are at fucking, I might not let them all rape you at the same time.”
Meredith looked at her expectantly.
“So are you good?”
Fawn choked out, “No.”
Doubt colored Meredith’s voice as she asked, “Is that false modesty?”
Fawn shook her head. “No. I used to think...I used to think I w-was frigid.”
“I see, I see.” Meredith began sharpening her knife again. “Do you think that’s why he left you?”
“I t-told you.” Fawn’s lips trembled as she spoke. “It’s because he’s protecting me. He doesn’t want me involved because his life is dangerous—-”
“So he’s doing it because he cares for you?”
“Yes—-”
“I want to believe you,” Meredith said, voice ringing with sincerity, “but you must explain to me first. Why does this man keep you at a distance when he’s had his parents and friends with him all these years? Does this mean he doesn’t love them as much as he loves you?”
“Is that what you’re saying, Fawn? That he loves you more than the friends he’s known for years? That he loves you more than his family?”
Fawn whispered, “No.”
“Then why do they get to stay in his life, and you don’t?”