gone. He tied Naomi in intricate configurations that took an incredible amount of time. The sex afterward was perfunctory at best, one-sided at worst. Ronin got off and didn’t seem to care if Naomi did. Their conversations were in Japanese, so Amery couldn’t decipher them, but she understood begging. Not the sexy kind of begging, but the desperate kind. Ronin’s reluctance was apparent when Naomi grabbed his hand and tried to make him spank her.
And he did—not with his hand. He used a paddle.
And then a belt.
In the next scene, Ronin splayed Naomi’s pussy wide open and flogged it. Her screams were audible even behind the ball gag. But they weren’t screams of pain. She recognized the difference; she doubted her parents did.
She wanted to stop the DVD—she’d seen enough—but she knew if her parents had driven all the way down here expecting her to watch it in its entirety, her telling them she’d seen enough would only drag this out longer, and she just wanted to be done with it. So she said nothing, just kept her eyes on the screen and let the tears fall.
The scenes became more violent. He slapped Naomi across the face.
That jarred her, seeing the man who needed kinbaku as beauty in his life to have to resort to ugliness.
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.”
“I didn’t say they were faked. Those are pictures from a long time ago.” Amery had seen some of those pictures—they were in Ronin’s photo albums, visual records of his previous bindings. So that snake Naomi had somehow copied the photos without Ronin knowing, which was just another breach of trust.
“What about this one?” he demanded, pulling out a shot of Amery leaving the doj
o the day after the parking garage attack, her lip still swollen, her eye a hideous shade of black. With the hunched-over posture, she looked . . . beaten down. The next shot, a close-up of her face, showed every mark in detail, including the bruises on her neck.
“So you’re not denying anything we’ve said about this man?”
“I’m telling you that you don’t know him. He would never hurt me. And you have no right to judge him.”
A long pause settled between them.
“Who are you?” her father said hoarsely. “This is not how we raised you. We provided you with a moral compass. How did you veer so far off the right path?”
“Here you are, living in the big city, living a life of sin and depravity.” Her mother picked up the argument. “This is why she doesn’t come home more often—she knew we’d see the ugly truth about her life. She’s so caught up in it that she can’t see she’s allowing herself to be fed a line of lies. Where will she be when she’s been used up and discarded? No one will want her then. No one will care to help a woman who refuses to help herself.”
Don’t cry. Goddammit, don’t cry. “Not even you?” she managed to choke out.
“We can only do so much,” her father added, slipping an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “We want to help you. Will you come with us to church service tonight and pray about it?”
Help her their way. Amery shook her head.
“Are you running straight to him?” her mother demanded.
She shook her head again.
Her father appeared relieved. “At least give this some thought, okay? We’re staying at the Holiday Inn Express out by the airport.”
“For how long?”
“That depends on you.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning we’ve been in contact with a Christian center here in Colorado that runs a retreat for abused women. We’ve secured a place for you for a few weeks. We’ll take you there and check you in.”
She clenched her jaw to keep it from dropping. They thought she was a victim? That Ronin was some kind of abuser?
Why would they think differently? Your assumption about what kind of man Ronin was the first time you were in his practice room was similar to theirs.
Amery refused to let that voice she’d worked so damn hard to exorcise from her mind and her life get a foothold again.
“Watch the other DVD. You need to see it.”
“What’s on it?”
“Just watch it,” her mother said shortly.
Fuck. Amery didn’t want to do this, but it appeared they wouldn’t leave until she met their demands. She switched out the discs, but didn’t sit down when she hit PLAY.
Two fighters circled each other on-screen. One was Ronin. Immediately he was the aggressor, cornering his opponent, getting him on the ground. Keeping the guy locked down. The round ended when Ronin got the guy to tap out after an arm bar.
Another fight started. This one was more physical on the boxing and kicking side. Ronin’s opponent refused to stay down. But Ronin adapted. He brought out his punching and kicking game. And he beat the guy bloody. The final move that ended the fight was when he performed a spinning back kick that connected with his opponent’s head.
Straight knockout.
After she watched the third fight, where once again Ronin was victorious, she didn’t see the point to watching this DVD. Was she supposed to believe that he’d take this behavior outside the cage? Direct it at her? Just as she opened her mouth to ask the purpose, another fight started.
But this wasn’t like the others. This fight found Ronin on the receiving end of rapid-fire fists. His opponent absolutely brutalized Ronin. The skin above his eye was sliced open and bleeding. His mouth was cut and swollen. The camera had zeroed in on him, and the look in his eye was complete blankness. Bleakness. And she knew, in that moment, this was the fight he’d been in the night he’d shown up at her loft beat to crap.
Where had Naomi gotten footage of this? Had she been there? Taking joy in watching Ronin getting pummeled?
Ronin had come to her to help him become whole again. He needed her. Amery bit her lip and tasted the salt from her tears in the back of her throat.
She opened the DVD drive and removed the disk.
“Well?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I told you this was a waste of time,” her mother snapped.
“Say that our concerns are justified.”
Amery shook her head. “You are off base on this. Ronin isn’t a monster. Not even close.”
“You will never convince us of that. And we won’t stand by and watch your life destroyed, young lady.”
“You’re telling me if I stay with Ronin, you’ll disown me?”
“We cannot support you in this life choice, Amery. We will not.”
“You’ve never supported me in any choices. From what dress I wore to prom, to what college I chose, to moving to Denver.”
“We’ll be waiting to hear from you. If we don’t, we’ll be on our way and you won’t hear from us again until you prove you’ve gotten your life straightened out.”
Amery clutched the manila envelope to her chest and didn’t even get up when they walked out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY
RONIN couldn’t get ahold of Amery.
Normally even if she was busy she’d at least text him back and let him know she’d call him when she had a chance.
So why hadn’t he heard from her in more than seven hours?
Don’t be a possessive asshole who needs to know where your woman is at all times.
He’d finished teaching the class of blue and green belts—what a trip that’d been—and was taking a breather in his office when Deacon poked his head in.
“Got a minute, Sensei?”
“What’s up?”
“Molly is here for my kickboxing class, and she wants to talk to you.”
There went Ronin’s theory that Amery had kept Molly late to work on the Okada project and had lost track of time. “Send her in.” As soon as he saw Molly’s face, he knew something was wrong.
“Sorry to bother you, but have you talked to Amery in the last few hours?”
He shook his head.
“Well, I sort of hoped she’d snuck out the back and just come here after . . .”
He fought his impatient response to tell her he didn’t have time to play these games. “After what?”
“After her parents’ surprise visit today.”
“Amery’s parents are in town?” His gaze sharpened. “Did something happen to her brother?”
“I don’t think so. They spent a long time in her office.”
“How long?”
“Two hours. I heard some arguing, but couldn’t make out specifics. Then her parents left. Amery didn’t walk them out or introduce them to me or Chaz. She just stayed in her office with the door closed. I didn’t want to bug her, you know?” Molly squeezed her training gloves in her hands. “So when it was time to shut down, I saw she wasn’t in her office. I checked her loft, just to be sure, and she wasn’t there either.”
“What time did her parents leave?”
“About four. I think if she would’ve been meeting them for supper or something, she would’ve told me. Or you would know, right?”
“I haven’t heard from Amery since before lunch.” Ronin glanced at the clock. Seven fifteen. No one had heard from her for more than three hours. That wasn’t like her.
“So you have any idea where she could’ve gone?” Molly asked. “I’m worried.”
The last time she’d suffered through a bad day . . . she’d at least texted him where she was. That she’d fallen off the grid