Chapter 9
Marcel
So Much Deeper
Swallowing hard, I knew where this was going, and a part of me wanted to stop her.
This was why professional psychiatrists didn’t counsel their close friends or family members.
By the very nature of the unconventional relationship she had with Ivan, Alek, and Nik, she had become more like family.
Having knowledge of her outside of the professional realm, thanks to the guys, heightened my internal responses to her.
Hell, Sebastian had seen her naked and then some.
Now she was sitting across from me in our drawing room and would be sleeping under our roof.
We were responsible for her in every sense of the word.
She was ours to protect. Even once the guys got home, I knew in my heart that Sebastian and I would bend over backward to help her.
Flashbacks of our previous conversations surrounding Mischa, her burial, and the rage whippings haunted me. Eight fucking years old. How did such evil exist? I wanted to scream at the injustice of it. Instead, I focused on the girl sitting across from me.
“The individuals intended to build an interest in me and later auction me off to the highest bidder. I was expected to dance and sing for my audience. One was supposed to become my owner when I turned fourteen.”
“Wait, what? The plan was to keep you that long?” I asked, overwhelmed. My professional mask was slipping, and I wanted to kick myself. Six fucking years. They planned to torture her that long? I stared in disbelief.
“The Mask orchestrated it all. Every detail was meticulously crafted in his game. The isolation was the first wave. I was honest with you when I told you I didn’t have a sense of time.
I have no idea how long I was in that one room, but it felt like an eternity.
At first, the Collector brought me my meals.
Then eventually, a woman replaced him. She also wore a mask, but it was like one of those half ones. ”
“Half? I’m not following.”
“Like for a costume party or a masquerade ball. It hid her scars from a gnarly burn.”
She scoffed and then added, “That was a poor comparison. My stay was anything but a party or a ball, but it’s the closest similarity I can make.”
“It’s fine, Ms. Taylor. There were others, then?” I studied her closely, my heart beating faster and faster.
“Yes and no. Yes, there were other people involved. I had one instructor for general education, foreign languages, and basic sexual education classes. Not to be confused with the woman who wore a mask. There was nothing basic about her role. But she was an instructor of sorts too.”
My mind was having trouble concentrating on everything. The level of planning involved in something like this was huge. “Foreign languages, can you explain the need for that?” I asked.
“I was told the person bidding on me would need me to speak their language. I could only assume that my Mast—” Her beautiful eyes met mine, and I swallowed hard.
“I think I understand what you’re trying to say. Were there any other little girls like you?”
“No other little…girls, just me.” Her eyes flashed nervously, looking around with a heightened sense of panic that didn’t sit right with me.
“Okay, this other woman. The one with the mask. What was her role?” I asked, trying to redirect her.
She let out a long breath. “X, the woman in the mask…” Her body trembled, and the drink damn near sloshed out of the glass from it.
“That wasn’t her real name. If I had to guess, she was late teens or early twenties, I think.
Everyone called her X. She had to accompany me to classes and my scheduled outside time every day.
She was almost like a babysitter, a very silent one, but she could speak, just not to me. It was forbidden.”
Forbidden to speak to the one person around her the majority of the day? The evilness of what she endured became clearer the more she shared. I shouldn’t have felt shocked, but I did. I had to remind myself that you don’t bury someone alive and have a shred of humanity inside you.
But this was so much more. It was becoming clear to me it was a complete psychological rewiring of her young brain. An isolated person would be desperate and susceptible to almost anything.
“X’s other job was to be the stand-in for what I could expect as a kaj—” She paused, and my brain finished the word she couldn’t seem to form.
Kajira. A goddamn slave?
She cleared her throat. “It wasn’t always her, though. There were other women. Ones I would see one time and then never again.”
This was professional level—not one of the typical trafficking rings where the child was sold to someone and then subsequently resold nightly for years. This was highly organized and screamed of elite men and women who were careful so they’d remain undetected. I encouraged her to go on.
“I was expected to not only watch and observe the acts taking place in front of me but the behavior behind them. It was the only part of the week where I could freely talk and ask questions.” She grew quiet, and a look of pure guilt washed over her face.
I downed my drink as my brain categorized what I would have to jot down and add to her file. I wished I had asked to record the session. Reeling from what she had told me, I had to end it for tonight. I needed to sit with this beginning level of information before she told me anything more.
“Ms. Taylor, you have done remarkably well this evening. I think this would be a good place to pause. I have a light caseload tomorrow, so I can be home early, and we can resume then.”
“Yes, Sir.” Relief washed over her.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” I pulled her from the couch, and she surprised me by grabbing me around the stomach and hugging me.
“Thank you for finding me,” she whispered. My arms wrapped around her, and I let her cry for a while. When she went to pull away, I pulled her tighter and kissed the top of her head.
“You’re welcome.” Taking her hand, I walked her back to her room.
She paused outside her door. “Dr. Marcel?”
“Yes.” I pushed her hair back from her beautiful face, feeling that surge of connection with her once more.
“I don’t sleep very well, and I don’t know if you read my file from the hospital, but I’ve been having nightmares every night.” She looked down at the floor. “I wanted to let you know in case you hear screaming.”
“It’s quite all right. Thank you for sharing. I’ll be sure to let Sebastian know as well. Promise me you’ll not worry about it, okay?”
“Yes, Sir. Um, you won’t sedate me, right?” Panic filled her eyes. “Please, they always sedated me in the hospital, and that only makes the terror worse. As it starts to wear off, I feel like I’ll wake up there again.”
“You’re safe. I’m not in the habit of sedating young ladies who are sleeping under my roof. Go on, now, try to get some sleep.”
She went inside, and I went back to the drawing room to make notes while everything was fresh in my head.
A couple hours later, true to her word, she indeed woke up screaming.
Both Sebastian and I went to her. He had gotten there first and found her cowering inside the closet in a tight ball.
He picked her up, and she buried her head in his chest and cried.
With determined steps, he carried her out of her room and over to Ivan’s, causing me to smile.
Underneath his tough exterior, he was a big softie.
“Tiny tot, shhh, it’s all right. We’re here, and you’re safe. It’s Ivan’s night, right? That’s what you said earlier?”
She nodded, her tear-stained face registering where she was.
“I think you should sleep in here. I don’t think he’ll mind.”
It was touching to see his words calm her. He laid her down on the bed, and she grabbed Ivan’s pillow and hugged it close to her. Each new sob transitioned from fear to her devastating heartbreak.
As much as it hurt to hear her cry in that manner, it was better than her being afraid.
We quietly left her alone with her emotions and thoughts.
Over the next few days, it became clear that as long as she slept in one of their rooms, her nightmares weren’t as deep.
It would become her new normal to sleep in their beds, and soon the nightmares stopped altogether unless we had a tough session.