Текст книги "Return to Grace Street"

Автор книги: Ella Dominguez

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

He had fucked a man. His unapologetic tone was arousing. She casually shrugged and glanced over his shoulder at the good-looking man. “We all have our turn-ons.”

“We certainly do,” he agreed, the desire evident in his deep voice.

The man at the bar caught her staring and she turned her attention back to Victor. “Would you do it again? Be with a man?”

“Do you want me to?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Only if you let me watch.”

He rolled his eyes and looked away, directing his focus onto the older gentleman who was now watching them both. Victor scanned the stranger head-to-toe and gave a quick nod in his direction, shooting him a flirty smile in the process.

"Yes, he's good-looking, but he's not really my type,” his eyes met hers, dashing her hopes of seeing some male-on-male action.

"What is your type?" she swirled the alcohol-free beverage around in the glass.

He swept the hair off her forehead. "You."

"I mean in a man,” she pressed as she brought her drink to her lips.

"Holy fuck, I don't know,” he sighed loudly. “I never know until I see it. The same goes for women. It's not like I have a checklist."

"You know. You’re too systematic in your ways not to have some kind of mental catalog of qualities you seek in a Chapter. "

His expression and tone became exasperated as if he was irritated that she knew him so well. "Fine. If you must know: I like someone who's easily manipulated. A person in denial about who they are. Someone who needs rescuing from themselves."

"So someone like you."

Suddenly defensive, his response came out clipped, "You think I’m easily manipulated?”

She stuttered, “I didn’t mean…” but he angrily cut her off before she could retract her statement.

“When did you get a psychology degree?"

"I don't need a degree to see what’s blatantly obvious,” she spoke softly but with purpose.

His stance shifted into one of a man going into battle and Elsa knew she had pushed a hot button. "One round with me and a peek inside my brain, and you think you have what it takes to dissect someone?"

"I would never presume to know all that you do about the human psyche, but if you can't recognize your own flaws and issues, then that PhD of yours isn't doing you a whole helluva lot of good."

"My issues, as you call them, are only blatantly obvious to you because you stuck your nose in shit you shouldn’t have and asked questions that were better left unsaid. As far as me and everyone else is concerned, I’m just a high-functioning asshole with a degree in criminal psychology.”

Her jaw gaped as she stared at him. His arrogance and denial about himself was physically painful and repugnant to watch.

“You think you can do my job?” his eyes raked over her body. “Then by all means, do it."

"Stop assuming you know my intentions. I never said I could do your job. Not many can. The awful things you've seen, the terrible sadness you've had to deal with... I could never... It takes a special person to take on that responsibility. "

His cynicism waned and his hardened features softened. "Or just fucked up."

"Maybe a little of both." Pushing her drink away, she eyed the scuffed toes of her high heels under the table.

Why did it always have to be like this? Couldn't Victor just tell Mr. Black to screw off for one night so they could enjoy the evening? Frustrated and disheartened, she picked at a piece of lint on his tie. "I've lost my appetite. If you're planning on doing something dreadful to me, then let’s go home and get it over with."

A look of distress followed by guilt washed over him. “Now who’s presuming to know intentions?”

***

An abrupt change of subject was needed. After everything Victor had shared, he wasn’t in the mood for any more drama. “Your birthday is coming up,” he reached across the table and touched the top of Elsa’s hand.

She immediately relaxed but puckered her mouth. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“Thirty is a milestone. Aren’t you excited?”

Her eyes zoomed in on the movement of his fingers caressing the flesh of her hand. “Not really. It’s just another day.”

“Are you afraid of getting older?”

The psychologist in him had always found it interesting how people dreaded their eventual demise. As shitty as things were for him, he welcomed his eventual passing into, hopefully, a happier realm. The only fear he had about growing older was becoming a burden on society. The thought of someone wiping his ass for him, feeding him, taking care of him because he couldn’t perform the basic tasks of life would be like a mental death sentence.

Burden on society. Like his worthless father. Although, he was a burden for a completely different reason.

“Not of getting older,” she pulled her hand out of from under his and glanced around the bar.

She left her unfinished response hanging in the air.

“Then, what? Of being alone?” he dared to ask.

Her eyes shot back to his. “Everyone is afraid of being alone,” she whispered in response.

It was telling that she always answered his questions sideways; never really answering them directly nor revealing too much. She had learned to play his game well. “Not everyone, Elsa. Some people relish their independence.”

He was trying to convince himself of his own statement, but he knew it was total bullshit. He sure as hell didn’t want to face a life filled with loneliness.

“Being independent and being alone isn’t the same thing. Someone can be independent and still want someone to share their life with.”

Something far back in her eyes darkened. Her expression, too. Sadness. But why? She had someone. Fucking Nathan, Goddamn, Duncan. She wouldn’t be alone.

Quickly becoming irritated with the thought of her spending her life with a man who didn’t deserve her love, Mr. Black kicked into high-gear, plotting out his next course of action. It was a wicked plan, but Victor swiftly cut him short and added his own personal touch. It would be her birthday, after all, and no one, should have to go through the kinds of birthdays he had endured.

12: A Gift

Four days of planning is all it took to pull things together for Elsa’s birthday. Surprisingly, Victor had found the actual planning of it, cathartic. In the moments that he would get frustrated with work, he would pick up where he left off to ease his tension.

He had kept his distance during those four days, feeling the need to separate himself from her. After the last Q&A, Mr. Black had harshly pointed out that he was getting too emotionally attached to her. And he was. However, his feelings were stemming from the personal nature of what he was telling her and nothing more.

Emotional detachment disorder.

He had read about it in textbooks; written endless essays on it and even witnessed it directly when interviewing suspects and convicted criminals. It was a subject that hit close to home for him. He had diagnosed himself with an attachment disorder his last year in post grad school. Thinking back, he had been in denial up to that point, always wondering why he could never form normal friendships or why he wouldn’t allow people into his life on a personal level. His failure to form a normal relationship to his mother in early childhood resulted in problematic social expectations and behaviors. It wasn’t pretty, but it was his reality and the aftermath of neglect and abuse he had endured as a child. If he had dared admit his past to any physician or psychologist, he had no doubt they would’ve concurred with his analysis.

It had been difficult to face initially, but after time, and after Chapter One, he accepted who and what he was– a selfish, emotionally disconnected asshole like his mother and a heartless motherfucker like his father. The small part of him that was good, the part that Elsa claimed held his inner light, wasn’t near enough to overcome all the other fucked-up parts of him.

But that benevolent part, the one that was begging to come out, was growing a set of balls. He could feel it. That suppressed inner voice had been quiet for many years. Until Chapter Eight. And now, as he sat there, finalizing her birthday party, that voice had legs. Determination. Power.

And Mr. Black didn’t like it.

Glancing at his case file and the correspondence Anthony had received the past week, his gut clenched with one of his intuitions that foreshadowed something bad. Or something really good – like a big break in a case. After all his years of being an FBI Agent, he had never quite figured out how to hone in on that feeling and decipher it. He just knew it meant something and to keep his eyes open.

He made one last phone call regarding his birthday plans for Elsa, when his father popped into his head. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. Undoubtedly, because of what she was putting him through. After the foreboding feeling he had just experienced, he couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with him.

From everything he learned about his father, and seen firsthand, there were similarities in personality traits, most especially his tendency toward sadism. However, he wasn’t his father and he knew that deep down. Not in the same context as being a murderer, anyway. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he had chosen criminal psychology as his field of study. He wanted to keep people like himself and his parents off the streets, and to make a difference in the world.

He laughed under his breath, a derisive, self-loathing sort of chuckle. He sure as hell had made a difference in the world of his Chapters. And not a good one.

*

Victor’s nerves prickled with excited energy as he looked at his watch. Elsa was meeting him in a few minutes and by the people gathering at Grace Street Brewery, everything was falling into place. When he saw Nathan enter the establishment, he ducked out of sight. His plan was to just hang back and watch the festivities from afar. Like he always did.

Right on time, she pulled into a parking space and exited her vehicle. When she approached him with a wary smile, a pang of longing shot through him.

“Happy birthday,” he tugged her close and into a darkened area.

Her body shivered from the cold wind and she tucked herself into him for heat.

“Thanks for reminding me,” she wrinkled her nose.

His mouth touched hers in the darkness. “You age well, Peach.”

Guiding her to the entrance of the pub, he gently pushed her inside where the small group was waiting, and then backed away before anyone could see him.

He heard the loud voices all wishing her a happy birthday and could hear the surprise in her voice. He moved across the bar to get a better look at her face as she mingled around. As he watched her interact with her friends, just for once he wanted to be a normal person, to have normal problems and live a normal life. Normalcy. Something so simple, but seemingly so far out of reach…

When he saw her glance over her shoulder several times, he knew what she was looking for. Him. He had seen her do it hundreds of times. Or was it thousands? He had lost track. He just knew that she was looking for him. And he liked it.

Yes, he was there, prowling and lurking the way he had done so many times before, but this time it was different. Maybe not for her, but it was for him. He wasn’t there to make her feel uncomfortable, although unquestionably she was since Nate was in such close proximity.

Whatever.

It wasn’t about that insignificant prick tonight. It wasn’t about Mr. Black either. It was about Elsa and seeing a genuine smile on her face for a change.

He had just settled in and ordered a drink when he heard an angry, voice next to him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Victor spun on his barstool to face a man several inches shorter than himself who looked vaguely familiar.

“I don’t care who you are and what you do for a living, if you hurt my sister again, I’ll kill you.”

Nick Cassidy. He had sent him an email invite under the pretense of being Nathan. But how the hell did Nick know who he was?

He took a cleansing breath in and tried his best to look poised and relaxed. “Threatening a federal agent? I thought you were a bright man.”

“I am bright and I’m not threatening – I’m stating a fact. Get the fuck out of here and leave. Elsa. Alone.

Victor took another deep breath as his equanimity wavered. If it was that easy, he would’ve done it. Fucking hell, he had already tried and failed miserably. As they silently stared at one another, his statement came unbidden. “I care about her.”

The impact of the words that came out of his mouth stunned him. Why the hell did he feel the need to explain himself to her family? His mother had the same Goddamn affect on him the night his world came crashing down.

A vein throbbed in Nick’s forehead and he became flushed with fury. “Bullshit. The only thing you care about is the game.”

He winced and felt the blood drain from his face. “She told you about that?”

“Not directly,” he narrowed his eyes. “She wasn’t exactly lucid when she mentioned it. She had to be sedated more than once because of what you did to her.”

He pinched his brows together. “Didn’t you know that? Didn’t you know that you sent her into a mental break down? I thought you knew everything Agent Laurenzo. Or is it Agent Black?”

Victor’s throat clenched tight and for a split second he saw spots in his vision. Of course she hadn’t told him. To admit weakness to him would put her at risk of being debased by Mr. Black. But Victor wouldn’t allow it. Not this time. And he would never tell her that he knew of her breakdown. He would simply wait for her to tell him herself.

Abruptly he turned to walk away, unable to look into the eyes of another man who clearly cared about Elsa.

A hand on his upper arm whirled him around. “If you truly care about her, then leave her alone. She doesn’t have the common sense to know when something or someone is going to hurt her. She never has. Despite her tough girl image, she’s fragile.”

Nick wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. But Nick was wrong. She was strong and fragile. A devastating combination.

Nick’s body swayed as he waited for Victor’s response and he no longer looked angry, but war torn as he pleaded for his sister’s sanity. Mr. Black wanted to pummel him for putting his hands on him, but Victor felt every word Nick spoke, every raw emotion. It was a jolt to his system to see what a family member should be – protective, loving and unconditionally accepting.

“I can’t,” Victor croaked out.

“Why the fuck am I even trying to reason with you, you son-of-a-bitch,” Nick shoved against his chest.

“Yes, I am a son-of-a-bitch, but I need her and I don’t give a shit about what you think of me,” he finally found the nerve to speak at a normal volume. Straightening up and puffing his chest out, he took a step toward Nick as Mr. Black fought his way to the forefront. “You need to back the fuck off. The decision isn’t yours. It’s hers. And she chooses to be with me.”

Nick huffed in disbelief. “I’m not buying that for one fucking second.”

“I don’t really give a shit what you believe,” he waved his hand at Nick in dismissal and turned to walk out.

Once outside, his frustration spilled out in a fiery sigh as he leaned against the cold brick wall. With a lit cigarette in his hand, he clenched his jaw as he struggled to contain the argument simmering in his head between him and Black. He had just admitted that he cared about Elsa. To her brother. And to himself. Out loud.

What a colossal fuck up.

***

Elsa scanned the bar one last time for Victor, however, he had disappeared, leaving her with no explanation. She had hoped to spend her birthday at home alone, not thrust into a group of people in a crowded bar. Maybe the shock of seeing so many of her friends had scared him away.

Nate’s aftershave made her suck in a shallow breath of surprise. When she turned around, he was standing just out of reach, watching her, but saying nothing. She no sooner opened her mouth, when he spoke. “Happy birthday, El.”

Emotionless and aloof. Nothing had changed. Except absolutely everything. She moved closer to him to see if she could smell another woman on him. She couldn’t. His blue eyes, the hidden dimple in his left cheek, his broad shoulders and perfectly coiffed hair… she marveled at his boyish good-looks and intelligence, and wondered how a man who didn’t love her could’ve wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Her eyes zoomed in on his lips. Soft. Tender. Had he kissed those other women with that mouth?

“Thank you for putting this together for me,” she leaned in to hug him, recalling the dream she had about him the night before.

In her dream, he had left her for a younger brunette after finding out her secrets. It wasn’t such a farfetched idea and closer to reality than a dream.

His muscles tensed under her touch and he gripped her shoulders, holding her at bay. “I didn’t. I got the invite from your brother.”

Nick had never put together any kind of party in his life.

“Have you thought anymore about our plans? Changed your mind?”

Her mouth suddenly became dry as bone while her palms became clammy from his unexpected question. “I think about it every day. But I haven’t…” their conversation was abruptly cut short when Nick’s hand gripped her wrist and tugged her away.

“Excuse us, Nate, but Elsa and I have something to discuss,” he barked in Nate’s direction.

Dragging her to a quieter part of the bar, Nick ripped into her.

“What the hell is going on?”

She blinked at the icy authority of his tone. “What are you talking about?” she snatched her wrist away from him.

“Victor Laurenzo was just here. He said you two are together again. What the fuck, Elsa? Tell me that isn’t true.”

Her strength flowed out of her body and embarrassment washed over her. Nick had been there for everything. Through everything. He knew what had happened between her and Victor. Not the gory details, but enough to know that he had fucked her over in a bad way.

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears at being found out. “What else did he tell you?”

His expression changed and an unknown emotion flashed in his eyes. “Nothing except for admitting he’s a son-of-a-bitch.” He looked past her and blinked rapidly. “So it is true?”

His words cut deep to know Victor felt that way about himself. Unable to lie to her brother, she answered him honestly. “It’s true.”

His eyes shot back to her with disgust reflected in them. “What about Nate?”

“I… I’m not…” she couldn’t find the words to explain that she wasn’t in love with him and why she had made the decisions that she did.

“You’re not what?” he drew closer to her when he saw the look of despair on her face. “Did Victor threaten you?”

His ability to read her was nerve-wracking. It was an annoying trait he had picked up from their mother. “No,” she lied. “He promised me something.”

His stare turned deadly. “What?”

“That he would let me live my life without interruption.”

“In exchange for what?” he whisper yelled.

“Playing his game.”

“Holy hell, that man is a menace to fucking society. And you agreed?”

She could only nod.

“Of course you did. You’re fucking up again, El,” he gave her an exaggerated sigh. “And you’re going to ruin things with Nate. If he finds out…”

“It doesn’t matter. When this is all over…” she turned her face away, ashamed, but determined. “I’ll be a stronger person for it. And Victor will be… It’s different this time. I’m in control. He’s playing by my rules.”

Silence.

When she looked up, Nick’s harsh stare had turned sympathetic. “You’re too kindhearted, El. Dumb as hell, but a good person.”

“Don’t tell mom. I don’t want to worry her. Promise me…”

He shook his head and pulled her into an embrace.

“I want updates on your safety. I mean it. If you don’t text or call me daily, I’m coming back here. With mom. And we’re burying that fucker. I don’t care who the hell he is.”

Pressed against his chest, she looked up at him and forced a smile. “It won’t come to that. I promise. And thanks for the party.”

He gave her a questioning glance. “I didn’t do it. Nate did.”

*

By the time she had reassured Nick that she would keep in strict contact with him, Nate had vanished. Her heart sank, but only a little. Seeing him only reminded her of the bad decisions she had made in her life and was continuing to make.

She no sooner climbed into her car when she received a text message of where to meet Victor.

When she arrived at the swanky hotel in downtown Richmond, she found her way to the designated room and knocked. The door opened, and Victor was standing in the threshold with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Guiding her by the shoulders, he walked her into the room and gently eased her down into the chair several feet from the bed.

“To start with, you only get to watch,” his fingertips traced her jawline. “But if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll let you join in.”

Seating himself on the corner of the bed, Victor loosened his tie, ran his fingers through his hair as he swiveled his head around to ease the tension of his neck, all the while never taking his eyes off of her. What exactly was she going to be watching? Him masturbate? She had seen it before, though not often or to completion… Perhaps a sexy strip-tease for her birthday? She smiled at the mental image. Her lips parted to ask what the big surprise was, but he brought a finger to his mouth to shush her.

A quiet knock on the door startled her.

Rising, he reached the door in three long strides. Secretive voices from behind the door could be heard, the second voice just as masculine as Victor’s but with a different, more distinct tone.

Another man.

Her body stiffened and her heart rate spiked. Would she be double-penetrated? Her belly fluttered at the thought. Closing her eyes, she tried to rein in the nervous energy and dread bubbling to the surface. Next she heard heavy footsteps and the door being closed behind them

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Victor demanded. “This is all for you.”

Swallowing loudly, she did as she was told.

The image before her was entrancing: two well put together men in a dimly lit room, their shadows dancing on the wall above the bed, both pairs of eyes keenly fixed on her. The scent of their aftershaves mingling along with the smell of her perfume drifted around the room like an erotic cloud, making her feel giddy and frightened. The stranger’s eyes roamed over her body, one of his eyebrows lifting infinitesimally just before he turned his full attention back to Victor and lowered himself to the floor. The man now on his knees was much younger than Victor, but just as tall and lean; eyes hooded, chin squared, longish, sandy blonde hair slicked back. His short fingers deftly unbuckled Mr. Black’s belt, then unhurriedly dragged the zipper of his slacks down, letting the black pants pool at his feet. A wet tongue darted out and glided up the long, thick shaft that she knew well, then back down the length and nibbled at his ball sack.

Green eyes watched her. Victor’s eyes. Or were they Mr. Black’s?

Sucking… slurping… two hands twisting around and around Victor’s cock in opposite directions before the mouth that didn’t belong to her, engulfed him once more...

She squeezed her thighs together to relieve the ache building low in her belly, her hands neatly clasped together and pressed between her legs. His smirk was visible; his amusement, unmistakable. A sharp intake of air through hissed teeth followed by a long sigh ending in a moan set her nerves on edge. Soft guttural noises drowned out the ringing in her ears, his malachite eyes growing needier as the dark-blonde head bobbed up and down in slow, deliberate strokes.

So completely mesmerized and turned on, Elsa could barely wrap her brain around how gorgeous the two men looked as they got off on each other and that she was actually given the privilege to watch it. Her lover’s stance widened, his eyes rolled back and his hips thrust forward as the man’s grip tightened and twisted. She hadn’t yet blinked and her eyes became bleary with their image.

All of the male-on-male porn she had watched didn’t compare to what was taking place in front of her. So dirty. So delicious. So intimate. And all for her. Her body jerked when she felt her own fingers inside of her, not realizing her hand had slipped under her skirt.

“Fuck yes…” The voice she had grown addicted to spoke softly as his fingers laced through the blonde’s well-groomed hair. “That’s it, take all of it…” He pushed more of his hardness into the greedy mouth around him.

The words uttered echoed undeniable pleasure; the emotion and arousal behind them she had foolishly convinced herself could only be brought on by her. How wrong she had been to think that her mouth alone could bring him such bliss. Her glassy eyes widened at the site of Victor’s concentrated gaze focused not on her anymore, but on the beautiful man submitting to him.

The man, who appeared to be in his early twenties, stood, quickly removed his pants and bent over the bed while Victor slipped on a condom. Stirring in her chair uncomfortably, her movement went unnoticed and it was as if she had become invisible to them, and that she no longer existed. Victor brusquely forced the man onto all fours on the mattress, leaned down over him and growled something into his ear. The indiscernible words and flesh on flesh contact between the two caused hot, all-consuming jealousy to pump through her veins. She had dreamt of Victor and Jordan and their illicit love affair and imagined this very thing, but now faced with it, all she could see was their blood-red reflection filtered through her heated stare.

Victor was hers to please; hers to submit to. Not this stranger who hadn’t earned the right to be in his presence or experience his domination. Hadn’t been put through the hell that she had with Mr. Black. No. Victor and Mr. Black belonged to her and only her.

With angry, unwanted tears streaming down her cheeks, she wiped them away with the back of her hand, smudging her mascara across her face.

What happened next was a blur as she lunged at the two men. Shoving Victor’s body to the side just as he pushed the head of his cock into the young man’s ass, she knocked him off balance and toward the nightstand causing the lamp to hurtle onto the floor and shatter. Throwing herself at the man who wasn’t worthy of her lover’s attention, she fisted his hair and clawed her nails down his sculpted and muscular back, leaving bright-red welts on his tanned skin. Her voice was unrecognizable in her ears as she screeched obscenities at the top of her lungs. A flurry of movements, intertwined and thrashing limbs sent her tumbling and crashing against the headboard as she wrestled him before she heard an unfamiliar, deep voice booming loudly, “What the fuck?”

Without warning, she was hauled over Mr. Black’s shoulder and plopped back down into the chair she had flown out of. A pair of handcuffs that were sitting on the desk now shackled her wrist to the leg of the small table that was bolted to the wall.

“Take your money and get out,” Victor pointed toward the cash on the bedside table.

“Get your bitch under control!” the man shrieked, his previously perfectly coiffed hair now a tangled mess on his head, his blue eyes blazing with fury.

“Just get the fuck out!” Victor barked as he stood, his rubber-covered, semi-rigid cock slapping his thigh.

Out of breath, Elsa tugged on the restraint, wanting to be free of it and fleeing down the hallway.

The nameless man gathered his clothing and dressed, his eyes occasionally flicking to her as her mind whirled with disjointed thoughts. Just as he stepped toward the door, a condescending smile graced his youthful, clean-shaven face, his eyes darting between her and Victor.

“If you like it rough, maybe we can work something out next time,” he reached for the stack of hundred dollar bills.

The door closed softly behind him and Victor kneeled before her, his eyes revealing his confusion.

“This was meant to be a gift, not a test. I thought you wanted this,” he pushed her sweat-dampened hair away from her eyes.

“I thought I did, too,” she sniffed back tears.

“What changed?”

Realization came slowly as the vision of the handsome man’s mouth around his dick still ricocheted through her mind. “I want all of your orgasms to belong to me.”

Victor was gone in an instant and Mr. Black’s eyes flashed irritation as he pushed himself up and glared down at her. “Selfish bitch,” he grumbled under his breath. “Why the fuck should they when all of yours don’t belong to me?”

Her answer hovered on her lips, but to respond would give Mr. Black a major advantage in the game, and at that moment, she had him right where she needed him to be – in the dark. Leaning back into the chair, she looked down at her knotted hands in her lap and pushed the guilt from her mind.

Without saying anything more, Victor disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her alone to ponder everything that had taken place that evening. The sound of the shower filled the small, hotel room as did steam and the smell of his cologne and soap. She jimmied with the cuffs, hoping to free herself, but failed.

Resigned, she leaned her head back and thought about the look on her brother’s face at her birthday party when he pried more information out of her than she had intended to share. Other than that and a particular unwanted guest being present, it had gone quite well. Victor had mysteriously vanished after dropping her off which was strange considering he was the one who apparently planned the get together.

Was that all a part of his game plan or was he genuinely trying to make her birthday something special? As usual, she had no idea. Hell, she was just as clueless as Victor was.

Several minutes later, he reappeared with a towel wrapped around his waist and spread out on the bed. Glancing up, his gaze burned into her and doubts about his intentions crept in to destroy her peace of mind. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, just staring at each other, wordless and both seemingly bewildered with each other’s actions, until she finally touched the cuffs and pleaded with him.