“You’re not even enjoying it.”

She flinched. Her nails dug deeper. “How the fuck would you know what I do and don’t enjoy? You know nothing about women, and you certainly didn’t know a thing about me. You don’t know a thing.”

Her grip tightened and tightened; Scott suppressed a scream.

“Am I wrong?” he asked, voice tremoring.

Her hand began to close, fingernails digging into his skin with such vicious force Scott was sure she was going to draw blood.

“Yes, you’re a thousand, a million times wrong. This is the cleverest, most satisfying thing I’ve ever done. It’s proof I’m better than everybody else. So many people tried to make me feel small, my pervert dad and my weasel husband and, and, and everybody. It’s always been the whole world against me. But nobody understands what I’m capable of. Nobody understands how impressive I am.”

Her words were empty air. Scott stared at her.

Casey huffed. “On your knees. Don’t make me ask again.”

“No. I’m done. This has to end. Take all my money. Have the bloody house if you want. Have the car. Have everything. Just let me go.”

“I have to say – and I hope you don’t take offence, truly, I do – but you really are one dumb piece of fucking shit. As if begging is going to work. You should do something.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said something like that, with the same intensity, the same implication. “I’d never hit a woman.”

She grinned. “Oh, but you would.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Fantasy and reality, Scottie, there isn’t much of a line there. I think that’s from Shakespeare. I told you I was clever. Anyway, I’ve got something to show you.”

She returned to the chair, scooping up her phone. Scott did his best to hide the tension which seized him, which always seized him when she touched her mobile.

She swiped and tapped, then showed him the screen.

Beth Vaughn sat in Scott’s living room; that explained one of her recent absences. Her eyes were bloodshot and her make-up streaked down her cheeks. She looked like a terrified teenage girl. She looked convincing.

“This is a hard video to make. I don’t even know where to start. Like, how can I explain what he did to me without breaking down? But I have to get this out there. I can’t let him hurt anybody else.” She took a moment, gathering her courage. Scott could imagine parents all over the country, the world watching this. Pitying her. Hating him. “My history teacher raped me.”

Casey paused the video. “Seen enough?”

“That poor girl has nothing to do with this.”

“That poor girl was paid generously for her work. It was more than anybody ever did for me. She’s smart; I think she’ll do well. But I bet you look down on her.”

Casey released her hand. Scott moved away, touching his raw skin.

“Don’t you?” she snapped. “You see her as the future sludge of society, just another stupid kid who’ll marry a stupid man and get a stupid job that’s oh-so beneath the likes of you.”