Page 10 of Vengeance of Childhood Proportions (Till Death Do Us Part #7)

I had always loved history. I loved learning about the different technologies of the ages.

But what held my attention the most was the various torture devices created over the millennia.

Some were so simple, it amazed me they were not in use today.

Who needed waterboarding when you had a kiln at your disposal?

What would Principal Hagley think if he knew that the kiln that had once belonged to the high school now resided in my bunker thanks to him cutting funding to the arts program?

Christopher had been begging to go back to his cell with the spiders after I showed him my cell. But he’d made his choice, and there were no take backs.

All of the cells in the bunker had thick polycarbonate surrounding them, except for the exterior walls.

I wanted all of my abductees to see what was happening in my cell and the others’ at all times.

Christopher had been able to see the cluster of spiders taking over his cell and know what he still had to face, even when I was done with him.

I had considered getting multiple pillories, putting my victims inside, and repeatedly raping them as they had done me. Hell, they even had fuck machines nowadays that could do the job for me. Jason didn’t even have to be involved.

I liked the symbolism of the idea, but not the reality.

Truthfully, I’m not sure what my reaction would be if someone was placed into a pillory in front of me.

It was why I stuck to the main room when I visited Snow Chains in Juneau.

Beyond my love of dancing at the poles, there were not any pillories in the main room and bar area that could trigger me.

Jason was a friend of the owner and he kept an eye on me when I visited, since I was an uncollared sub.

No, I wanted those on my list to suffer more .

I wanted them to feel as empty, as lonely, as dehumanized, as victimized, as agonized as I had.

I wanted them to see my face and know exactly why they were where they were.

I had given them fifteen years of freedom they hadn’t deserved.

Now, they were going to pay me back in blood for my pain and that time they’d unknowingly been loaned.

Once we were done here, Jason would be heading back to the bunker. I gave him free rein with the prisoners. Whatever he wanted to do with them was fine with me—except killing them. That was my job. They would die by my hand and no one else’s.

I was owed my vengeance.

As the coroner led the stretcher out with the navy blue body bag on top, the single reporter who was being kept at bay by the police officer posted outside the school started snapping pictures.

I understood the need to stay on the sidelines, but I also had a gut-wrenching need to know what was being said.

Had they put the connection together? Was that weasel of a principal confessing his sins?

Would he lie to cover his own ass…again?

When they discovered Christopher’s name and identity, would they put together that others from my attack had gone missing?

Would they discover I was still alive?

I straightened as a man in a black suit exited the school.

He put on a pair of Aviator sunglasses before pausing and turning to look over his shoulder.

A second later, a tall woman in a tan suit came out.

They were chatting together. Their badges around their necks gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Neither one reached for an umbrella, hinting that they were used to the constant rain.

Jason noticed my change in stature. “What is it, Hols?”

I didn’t want to admit this to him, but I owed Jason too much to keep secrets from him. “The Fed,” I tipped my chin in his and his partner’s direction. “He was at the club last night.”

Following Christopher’s death, Jason had told me to go to the club.

He still had keys from his days as this school’s janitor and also knew that the roof door was not tied to the security system.

Additionally, he knew what returning to my high school might do to me.

I was grateful for the excuse to escape while he took care of staging the body.

“Was he?” Jason gave the Fed an appraising look up and down. “He’s a Dom, no doubt. Did he see you?”

I nodded, unable to deny it. “I was wearing my owl mask.” Anonymity was a big part of the club life. I was not out of place in the club wearing only a thong, corset, and my mask.

“Were you on the poles last night?” Jason knew how much dancing relaxed me. Pole dancing was also a great cardio workout.

“Yes.” Then I begrudgingly admitted, “And he fucked me on stage.”

Jason looked down at me, eyebrow raised. “Did he now?” Though there was a bit of possessiveness in his voice, I knew it didn’t derive from love. Jason had told me a long time ago he was incapable of feeling that emotion. Jason felt responsible for me.

I thought back to the night before. The agent, the Dom, had walked right up to me on the stage, no hesitation, no misstep, and ordered me to bend over.

“Hold on tightly, Little Owl,” he growled in a low, husky voice. “This is going to be hard and fast.”

He hadn’t ordered me to kneel. He hadn’t insisted I be tied down, which was a hard limit for me. He hadn’t asserted his dominance in an over-the-top power play.

No, he’d seen what he’d wanted—me—and he’d taken what he’d wanted. Yet, there was no doubt in my mind that I could have said no. The ultimate power exchange. I was in charge because I was letting him be.

I’d bent over, held onto the pole with both hands, and let him take me in full view of the entire room, including the number of men and women who’d been admiring my dance routine.

I never got his name and he never got mine.

Per club rules, he’d worn a condom. It was rare for me to orgasm.

To be honest, it was the first time I’d done so without Jason present.

We both knew why, and it had nothing to do with his actual person being there.

It had to do with safety. I had to feel safe to orgasm.

Standing across the cold, wet parking lot, I stared at the federal agent who’d been called to solve a murder I’d committed and wondered at the irony that I had felt safe with him.