Chapter 15Margo’s nails are sharp, painted red. They dig into his wrist, forcing his hand down against the beige sheets of his parents’ bed. Joe looks over, his eyes those of a trapped animal, to see her nails dig in deep enough to pierce the skin. There is a satisfied sigh from her when she sees the trickle of blood run down his arm. She takes the nylon cord and ties his arm to the bedpost. She has already tied the other arm down.
His father sits at the bottom of the bed, holding Joe’s legs, one ankle in each hand. Joe looks down at his father, who is naked, his erection snaking up from between his legs. “No,” Joe whispers, without emphasis. There is no mercy.
“You can go now,” his father says to Margo.
“But I wanted to watch.”
“Go on, get out of here.”
Petulantly, Margo gets up from
