She was still crying after the DVD went dark. Crying and heartsick and embarrassed.
Her father cleared his throat.
Please don’t say anything.
“You see why we’re concerned.”
“You don’t understand.” The instant she said it, she realized she should’ve kept her mouth shut.
Her mother stomped forward. “This man has you brainwashed. How can you watch something so filthy and not be absolutely disgusted?”
She was disgusted, but not for the reasons they were.
“Do you let him treat you like that?” her mother demanded. “String you up like you’re his piece of property and let him hurt you?”
Amery gazed up into her mother’s angry face. “It’s not like that.”
She grabbed hold of Amery and yanked her out of the chair, pinching the tender flesh of her upper arm hard as she dragged Amery forward. Spittle flew from her mouth. “You watched it. How can you defend him? Especially when you know what kind of a violent pervert he is. That woman in the video was crying and begging him to stop, and yet he still hit her. He is a horrible, awful man.”
“Let go of my arm.”
But her mother had gone into meltdown phase. “We know this Ronin Black has money. You let him tie you up like a dog and do unspeakable things to you while you cry? But then he buys you pretty, expensive things and you just forgive him? And you let him do it all over again? What is wrong with you?”
“Let go of my arm.”
“I tell you what, little girl. You always were a willful child who needed discipline. Maybe that’s why this unholy type of behavior appeals to you. You think you deserve to get abused—”
“Shut up.” Amery used a pressure point technique on her mother’s elbow to force her to release her arm.
Her mother whimpered and stepped back.
Her father was right by his wife’s side. “What did you do?”
“I told her to let go of me. She was hurting me.” She lifted her sleeve and looked at the angry red marks. Guaranteed she’d have bruises tomorrow.
“Isn’t that what you like? Or is it only when a man with a big bank account does it to you that it’s acceptable?”
Hearing the crack of her hand across her mother’s cheek would be momentarily satisfying, but not worth it in the long run.
“Marion, curb your tongue.”
Her mother glanced at her husband meekly, with tears in her eyes.
“We needed to shock you, Amery. We wanted you to see from an outsider’s perspective just how wrong all of this is.”
Amery folded her arms across her chest, unsure what to say or what to do.
Her father’s gaze landed on her wrist—specifically the rope burn on her wrist. His face paled. Then his mouth tightened. “This man has you so in his thrall that you won’t listen to reason.”
“I’ve listened to everything both of you have said. Everything. Now you need to listen to me. You need to meet Ronin and see for yourself—”
“Absolutely not. I’m a man of God, a man of faith, but I might just forget that if I’m in the same room with that heathen monster. Not only is he sick in the head, this Ronin Black isn’t even a Christian.”
Amery would ask how he knew that, but probably the package included that info, along with other choice bits such as Ronin’s financial status.
“And he’s part Japanese. That right there is an affront to everything in our family. Your grandpa Joe was a POW during World War Two. Did you forget he was tortured at the hands of the Japanese for more than a year?”
“It’s highly unlikely that Ronin’s grandfather was personally responsible for Grandpa Joe’s capture and his torture.”
“You watch your mouth,” her mother warned. “Your grandfather was a war hero. A hero.”
“Which has nothing to do with Ronin or his family. Ronin’s father was a hero too—in the United States Air Force. Ronin is a US citizen.”
“You are trying to distract us from the real issue at hand,” her father said. “Give me the package, Marion. Then you’ll see.”
Her mother retreated and fished out the envelope again. Then she passed it off to Amery like it was coated in poison.
Amery dumped the contents on the table. She moved the DVD aside to pick up the stack of photos. She leafed through them, not really seeing them other than noting they were bondage shots. But she spied a picture with a yellow sticky note on the top, and she pulled that one from the pile.
She froze. It was a picture of her and Ronin, taken the night she’d had the altercation with Naomi. In this shot, Ronin was pressing her body against the limo so completely, her upper back was bowed away from him. His face was hidden because he’d been whispering in her ear. But the red handprint on her face was still visible. It appeared to be an angry shot.
But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’d been saying such deliciously naughty things, so sweet and hot, that she’d closed her eyes to savor every word.
“Can you explain that away?” her mother demanded, shoving another picture at her where it looked like she was crying as she climbed out of the limo alone. “Or were you so impressed by the limo you didn’t care what he did to you or how he hurt you?”
No. The only thing I cared about in that moment was twining myself around him, feeling his breath in my ear, his mouth on my skin as he showed me how precious I was to him. The tears hadn’t been because he hurt her but because he loved her.
When she looked from her father’s face to her mother’s, she had a sense of loss. They’d never understand. And part of her didn’t care if they did.
“Was that a supportive, Christian thing to say, Mom? Berating me? Making me feel like some kind of materialistic bitch?”
“Don’t you talk to me like that. We’re here to help you.”
Amery sighed. Counted to twenty. “Then please don’t judge me before you let me speak.” She waved the picture. “I don’t know who took this, or why, but that wasn’t Ronin’s limo—not that it matters. And the red mark on my face? Was from Ronin’s ex-girlfriend, the one I assume sent you this package of stuff.”
“So you’re saying it’s all lies? That she somehow digitally altered his face into the shots?” Her father pointed to the stack of photos. “There are well over a dozen different women in those pictures. Whoever did this couldn’t have faked that.”