Bound to my Enemy novel Chapter 107

Chapter 107: Chapter 107.

Zane’s POV

The warehouse smells like rust and damp concrete.

There’s one light on and it’s hanging low, swinging slightly from the draft every time someone opens the outer door.

He’s already tied to the chair when I walk in, with his wrist bound behind him and ankles secured to the legs, head hanging forward. Blood on his lip from where Thomas had to "convince" him to cooperate earlier.

He looks smaller than I imagined.

They always do.

I stand there for a moment and just look at him.

This is the man.... The is the one who thought she was prey.

Thomas steps back toward the wall when I enter. He doesn’t speak, he knows better than to.

The man lifts his head slowly when he hears my boots against concrete.

His eyes are swollen from crying.... He doesn’t recognize me yet.

"Please," he says immediately.

They always start with that. Always.

I stop two feet in front of him.

"Look at me."

His eyes flicker up.

Confusion..... then fear.

He doesn’t know why he’s here.. Not yet.

"Do you know who I am?" I ask.

He shakes his head quickly.

"I swear, I don’t know what this is about. I didn’t do anything. I don’t...."

I punch him before he can complete that statement.

Not hard enough to knock him out just hard enough to split his lip and make him bleed again.

"I asked you a fucking question."

He starts crying.

"I don’t know you.... I don’t know"

"But You know my wife Elaine ."

He freezes.

Ahhhh there it is. Recognition... not of me but of her.

He swallows.

"I don’t know h...."

Anger courses through me so I punch him again.

This time his head snaps to the side and he groans.

"Don’t fucking lie to my face." I wait for a while pacing infront of him so I don’t loose my cool and punch his face again.

"You drugged her." I say after a while

His breathing becomes shallow.

"You cornered her."

His chest rises faster.

"You thought she wouldn’t remember or that you’d escape it."

Sweat breaks out across his forehead.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he whispers.

I grab his jaw and force his head up.

"Say her name."

Silence.

"Say!. Her!. Name!."

He hesitates, so I punch him again and again.

I let go and step back.

"You remember," I say quietly.

His eyes dart toward the door like he thinks someone is coming to save him or he can escape me.

No one is and he can’t.

"You left her bleeding," I continue. "You left her alone, hurt and vulnerable and you walked away."

His breathing turns ragged.

"She didn’t fight," he says suddenly. "She couldn’t..." anger courses through me again

I hit him so hard the chair scrapes against the concrete.

Thomas shifts behind me but doesn’t interfere.

"What’s your defense?" I ask.

"She was drunk," he stammers. "She was flirting. I thought..."

"You thought what."

"That she wanted it."

I stare at him.

"Did she say yes?."

He doesn’t answer.

So I step closer

"You thought she was alone." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

But he doesn’t need to, we already did our research.

"Yes," I say. "You have."

The man starts hyperventilating.

"I was drunk," he says. "I didn’t think....."

"That’s the problem."

I stand slowly.

"When my sister died," I say, my voice even, "I thought maybe I was broken for wanting the man who did it dead."

He looks confused.

"I thought maybe something was wrong with me."

I step behind him now.

"But I realized something."

He twists in the chair, trying to follow me.

"Men like you only exist because you think you’ll get away with it."

I step back into his line of sight.

"You won’t."

He starts shaking his head violently.

"No, no, please, I have a daughter and I have wife I ca...."

"So did someone else."

His mouth opens and closes.

"I swear I’ll leave," he says. "I’ll go anywhere, I’ll disappear you won’t ever see me again."

"You don’t disappear," I say calmly. "You don’t get to walk away and do this again somewhere else."

"I won’t!"

"You will."

I believe that... I don’t need him to confess to ten more crimes.

I know his type.

"I need you to understand something," I say.

He’s crying openly now.

"When you touched her, you signed your own death certificate."

His face drains of color.

"You don’t get to rewrite what happened," I continue. "You don’t get to frame it as a misunderstanding."

I pull my gun from my jacket.