Chapter Three
Tamsyn
There were people in a box.
Mouth hanging open, toast dangling from her fingers, she watched the screen at the foot of the bed with unabashed amazement and a great deal of wariness. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that there were people in there. People with black skin, brown skin, skin like her own. Not just people, but entire worlds .
For three days, she’d been fascinated by the television.
Three days of using the little silver box Merrick had given her to flip from one world to another. Even though he’d explained there wasn’t really anyone trapped behind the glass, that it was all electrical signals and pixels, she was suspicious.
Tamsyn was grateful for the distraction—it kept her brain from focusing too hard on the two biggest worries swirling around in her head. The first was entirely out of her hands; her father and the rest of the council would be looking for her, and she no longer had a headstart. Three days of being stuck in bed meant they were surely in the vicinity by now, if they’d followed her path correctly.
She prayed fervently every few hours that they were on the wrong side of the mountain, traipsing around in the cold, searching for her on a ghost trail. It didn’t matter, of course, because they wouldn’t stop until they found her and dragged her back to the community.
Straight back to the altar where women were sold and traded, blood exchanged for hierarchy and power.
In comparison, the second worry was foolish.
It was, however, the most pressing concern.
“You’re supposed to eat the toast, little owl.”
Her eyes darted to the doorway and the man filling it. Her heart did the strange little buh-bum-dum it always did when Merrick was near, like it skipped a beat or added another one in whenever she saw him.
He padded in on bare feet, glancing at the fire before crossing over to sit on the edge of the bed. Plucking the cold toast from her grasp, he dropped it back on the plate, then ran his knuckle over her cheek. “No appetite, huh?”
She shook her head slowly.
“Know what day it is, don’t you?”
She tipped her head into her shoulder, away from him. She’d learned quickly that he was adept at reading her—not just her expressions, but everything about her. Letting him see her eyes was akin to splaying her mind open and offering it on a platter.
Without commenting on her avoidance, Merrick lifted the cold cloth from her wrist and hummed in approval. “This looks good, Tamsyn. I know it’s been a long few days, but I think Linnie will be able to cast this today.”
A shudder ripped through her at the mention of the doctor.
Since Merrick brought Tamsyn home to his cabin, the time had passed in a flurry of shock, trauma, sleep, and the blessed TV. Pain underscored every moment, but the meds in the IV kept it manageable. She knew Linnie came every day to check everything was as it should be, but she liked to block those visits out by sleeping.
Today was the first visit when she would be awake and fully aware of what was going on around her.
Merrick’s fingertips pressed against her cheek, drawing her face back to him. “Some questions have been raised, little owl. Difficult questions. Given your condition, we believe there’s a possibility you were abused when you were… wherever you came from. Linnie didn’t see any signs you’d been recently…” He growled softly under his breath. “When she put the catheter in on your arrival, she didn’t see anything to say you’d been recently violated in a sexual context, but there are concerns that it’s part of your history.”
Tamsyn didn’t need a mirror to tell her she was a glorious shade of humiliated red.
“She’s been wondering if that’s why you’re so phobic about medical stuff.”
She shook her head adamantly. She supposed it was linked, everything linked back to the community and its practices with women, but she could guarantee rape wasn’t part of it.
The community doctor, Dinan, might be a member of high standing, but even he would be held accountable for his actions if he sullied a woman not of his name. Whatever he did once he administered the sedative, defiling a commodity wasn’t it.
“Have you ever been raped, Tamsyn?” Merrick asked gently.
Another vehement headshake. More heat added to her already vibrant blush.
She saw relief drop over his features like a guillotine blade, obviously erasing some unspoken fear. At least she set his mind at ease on that score; she didn’t have much to offer him, but maybe relief was a small gift with a big impact.
“Did anyone assault you? Touch you where you didn’t want, without your permission?”
Oh, now that was trickier than a yes or no answer. The elders were always grabbing a breast or a buttock, and some of the more forward ones were brave enough to manhandle between a woman’s legs—over their clothes, of course—with a possessive clutch of fingers. Especially if the elder was single and in line to take his next wife.
She hesitated a moment too long.
“Oh, darlin’,” Merrick murmured softly, cupping her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
She lifted a shoulder in a lackluster shrug. It wasn’t something she could change, was it? In truth, it could’ve been much worse. Her father was one of the highest ranking elders, currently on his fifth wife since her mother’s death, and he’d held the right to trade Tamsyn from the moment she turned twelve.
Trades were routinely made five minutes before midnight, and the binding contracts signed on the hour. Girls were made into wives before the grandfather clock in the great hall finished the twelfth chime.
For fourteen years, Jedidiah dangled the threat of marriage over her head to ensure her obedience, telling her she would stay in her childhood home as long as she conformed to his rules.
For fourteen years, he’d stayed true to his word until the lucrative trade he’d been waiting for came along.
“You don’t have to worry about that here.” Merrick’s eyes were dark, the green turbulent, and his voice matched them. “I’m not above breaking bones to keep you safe, Tamsyn. Until we find out where you’re from and get you back where you belong—”
She recoiled so violently, she forgot about her arm. Bringing both hands up to protect herself from an imagined blow, pain sheared through her bones, almost wrenching a scream from her mummified vocal chords. The noise she made was a strangled, keening wail.
Merrick pinned her against the pillows with one hand on her upper chest, grasping her injured arm near the elbow. Lowering it carefully to the bed, the quiet shush ing sounds he gave her merged with the panicked pulse of blood deafening her. “All right, darlin’. It’s okay. That answers that question, doesn’t it? Ain’t no going back to wherever you’ve been.”
Her chest was too tight, her breath hindered by ropes of stress.
If the elders found her, if Jedidiah knew where she was, there was nowhere she could hide. They would take her back kicking and screaming, spouting community laws and relaying every single infraction she’d made.
She’d be lucky if she was conscious when they hauled her to the altar for her groom.
How stupid was she? Staying here, letting herself be drawn into the wonders of the television, sitting like a duck in the middle of the pond without even realizing the crosshairs of a gun were trained on her head.
The urge to run was overwhelming.
“Easy, little owl.” He didn’t move his hand, just kept holding her down with firm pressure. “That’s some fucking trigger we just hit. No, lie still. Catch your breath, breathe out nice and slow. No one’s gonna get you here.”
They would.
They couldn’t afford not to.
Runners never made it far, usually not more than an hour or two from the community. They were ill-prepared for life outside, too used to order and commands to think for themselves. Scared of the lies they were told to keep them within the boundaries, lost without a lifetime of tended paths and allocated buildings to guide them.
In the last twenty-six years, there had been a dozen runners. Twelve women who were too strong in mind to accept the fate thrown at them. Twelve women who had died trying to get their freedom, and to ensure others weren’t tempted to rebel.
Beyond her control, Tamsyn’s hand shot into Merrick’s hair, fisting the silver strands fiercely. She knew she hurt him by the way lines creased around his eyes, but she couldn’t stop herself from clinging to him. She was shaking, her distress palpable, and she swore the scent of fear leaked from her pores.
“Darlin’, it’s bad enough being a silver goddamn fox before my time,” Merrick murmured. “Adding a bald spot is gonna be a serious kick to my pride.”
Nothing could persuade her to release him. Her fingers were frozen, the joints locked, her body jittering as though in the throes of a seizure.
“Tamsyn, listen to me carefully. One day, you’re gonna find your voice and be able to tell me what scares you. Right now, you need to look at me—in my eyes,” he added when her gaze flickered to his nose and stayed there. “A little higher, darlin’. That’s it. Focus on me. There, right there.”
Her breath shuddered out when her eyes locked on his. The steadiness in his voice coaxed her not only to keep eye contact, but to look deeper. Past the beautiful shades of green and the inky black of his pupil into him .
He didn’t falter, didn’t blink.
There was just strength and unwavering confidence, a calmness that didn’t waver even when her grip tightened on his hair.
“Take a breath and let go,” he said quietly, holding up the hand not on her chest. “We’re going to make a trade—my hair for my hand. You can do that, right?”
Mouth dry, heart in her throat, she nodded slowly.
“Yeah, you can. On three, take the breath, Tamsyn. One… two… three.”
She sucked in enough air to strain her lungs and willed her fingers to relinquish their grip. They loosened fractionally, but she couldn’t lose that connection.
Merrick smiled slowly, lifting his hand to rest on hers. Gently, he linked his fingers between hers, forcing them between hers to loosen her fist and keep the bond alive. “There, a painless transition. Don’t know what spooked you so bad, darlin’, but if it happens again, all you gotta do is look in my eyes. You’ll find what you need.”
What she needed was to crawl into him and hide until it was safe to come out. Thirty or forty years should be sufficient—her father and the majority of the current elders would be dead and gone by then.
Her head jerked up, her body jolting at the quick tap-tap-tap on the bedroom door. Every muscle went rigid as Linnie stepped in, bag in hand.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the doctor said, weighing up the situation. “I’d offer to come back, but I’ve only got an hour before I need to check on another patient.”
“Anything serious?” Merrick asked, squeezing Tamsyn’s hand when she tried to wiggle away.
“Just a knock on the head,” she replied cheerfully. “Someone didn’t check his knots properly, dropped his… partner,” she told him cautiously, “onto her head. She’ll have a nice goose egg for a few days, maybe a mild headache. I’m just running observation on her for a few hours.”
“Eli will be thrilled about the paperwork.”
“Part and parcel with ownership of… a place like this.” She walked over to the bed when no one objected, setting her bag on the floor. “How are her feet holding up?”
Tamsyn curled her toes, twisting said feet toward each other under the covers. They felt bulky, as though she wore too many thick socks.
“They look sore, but the cream is helping. Twice a day,” he interjected before she could ask her next question. “I cleaned them this morning, lathered and redressed them. No signs of infection.”
“Excellent. Make sure she stays off them until they’re fully healed. I think the IV can go today,” she continued, segueing seamlessly onto the next topic. She was all talk and twice the action, already bending for her bag to retrieve a small roll of tape and a tuft of cotton in bauble form. “I brought the kit, Merrick.”
Something flashed in his eyes before he smothered it. “It won’t be necessary.”
Linnie’s eyes narrowed. She straightened, cocking a hand on her hip. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Truthfully sure or man sure?”
Merrick snorted a laugh, then shook his head. “I don’t think I want to know what man sure is. By all means, be thorough and double check for yourself.”
Tamsyn shrank under the heavy weight of Linnie’s stare. The woman possessed similar physic abilities as Merrick, it seemed; she pinned her with those dark eyes, reading every nuance of body language, every facial expression, before the concentration softened.
“I’m not trying to scare you,” she explained in a gentler tone. “Rape is a serious business, Tamsyn, not just psychologically. If abuse has been part of your history, it’s better to know about it now so we can get ahead of any issues.”
Tamsyn shot Merrick a confused look.
“Pregnancy,” he said in an undertone. “Sexually transmitted diseases or infections.”
She felt the color drain from her face. Pregnancy wasn’t new to her—it was the primary goal of the community, to grow the population and expand the gene pool, to keep a supply of women in trade—but no one ever mentioned diseases or infections.
“Judging by your ghostly pallor, we hit a nerve. Were you raped, Tamsyn?”
It was the same answer as before.
“No bodily fluids exchanged, orally or otherwise?”
She shook her head numbly.
“Okay, that’s good. When was the last time you had sex?”
What little color she had left swirled down the drain. She opened her mouth, but her jaw just hung uselessly, unable to even form the shape of words. She dropped her gaze to the big hand holding hers, feeling panic sweat beginning to form along her spine, her temples; there was no way she could make eye contact with anyone.
Thick, smothering silence filled the room.
“You don’t have to answer that, darlin’, if it embarrasses you. Linnie’s not trying to be nosy.” Merrick lifted their joined hands to her chin, nudging it up so she might look at him, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Linnie cleared her throat. “I don’t think that’s the issue, Merrick. All right, sweetie, we’ll leave it at that. Are the bruises improving?”
“Yeah.” His reply was slow, his tone thoughtful. “The arnica supplements and gel Evander sent over are working wonders. He suggested a full week of treatment, so I’ll heed his advice.”
“Okay then, there’s just this pesky wrist to sort out.” Linnie jerked her head. “Move your tight ass over, Merrick. This won’t take long if Tamsyn’s ready for the cast.”
“The swelling’s gone down a lot.” Giving Tamsyn an apologetic smile, one she caught when she risked peeking at him, he squeezed her fingers and released them. He stood and stepped aside so Linnie could take his place. “Breathe, little owl. I’m right here.”
No . The word resonated in her head as the doctor lifted her arm, studying the ugly mess stretching from her hand to her elbow. The contusions were plentiful but not painful, the skin red and still slightly swollen despite constant cold cloths wrapping the break.
She yanked it away, unable to stand the feel of strange hands on her.
“Careful,” Linnie muttered distractedly, patiently tugging the limb back where she could see it. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you, sweetie, but you need to stay still.” She glanced at Merrick. “We’re good to go. I need some warm water and a towel, Merrick, if you’d be so kind.”
Tamsyn shook her head, pulling her arm back for a second time and cradling it against her chest. She bared her teeth when Linnie reached for her again.
The doctor frowned, then nodded. “All right, we’ll do this a different way. You can reclaim your seat,” she murmured to Merrick, snagging her bag as she rose gracefully to standing. She dumped the bag on the bedside table and started rummaging through it, humming under her breath.
“It won’t take long if you behave,” Merrick chastised without heat, taking her hand again. “That wrist isn’t stable, darlin’. It needs to be in a cast so it’s supported while it heals. You don’t want a wonky wrist, right?” He flopped his own around in demonstration as he sat again. “It’ll stop hurting as much once it’s secure. Right now, any bump or knock causes you pain.”
Tamsyn slid her eyes to the doctor, watching her every move. She was still hunting through her bag, but surely there wasn’t that much to root through in there; it wasn’t the biggest bag in the world.
When Linnie made her move, Tamsyn was too slow to stop her.
Reaching out with one hand, she snagged the IV line without looking at it. Her other hand came out of the damn bag, a syringe poised in her fingers. Even as Tamsyn squeaked in alarm, the blunt nozzle slotted into the port, and the plunger depressed.
Liquid spurted into the line, heading straight for her vein.
Before she could grab the tube and rip it out again, Linnie’s hand clamped tightly over her elbow where the canula sat. “I haven’t given you enough to knock you out, sweetheart. It’ll calm you down and let me work without stressing you out. You’ll hardly feel a thing. Merrick will be exactly where he is now, okay?”
“What the hell, Linnie?”
“It’s better and safer for everyone,” she fired back.
Tamsyn’s vision blurred slightly at the edges. She blinked, her eyelids barely responding to her commands. Muscles tight with anxiety went lax in the space of a heartbeat, and that heartbeat seemed to take forever. Her fingers uncurled from their death grip on Merrick’s hand.
She whimpered, but the sound came from far away.
Melting into the pillows, she watched through half-open eyes, losing chunks of time. She barely felt the press of Linnie’s thumbs along the break, or the tug of a soft, stretchy sock thing being pushed over her numb hand to hug her wrist.
The room blurred as another layer was rolled quickly around the first, fluffy and white. So very white and fluffy, she thought, trying to reach out and stroke it.
“This is becoming problematic, Merrick. She’s far too dependent on you for this to end well.”
His face faded in and out of focus. “What would you have me do, Linnie? Hand her back to you so you can keep her sedated for days on end? That’s the only way you’ll keep her in that room. Here, she’s calm and comfortable. I’m handling the nightmares when they hit her, but aside from that, she’s resting. Just what the doctor ordered, remember?”
“You’re creating a bond with her. Not just friendship. I know it’s just your way with nervous subs, but she’s not a submissive and you’re cultivating a dynamic with her whether you realize it or not.”
“She needs someone to lean on for a while.”
“There’s leaning and then there’s loving. If she’s been emotionally starved on top of everything else, what you’re giving her is addictive. In three days, you’ve become the center of her universe. Think about that. What happens when you want to scene with someone, when your job requires it? Are you going to make her sit on the sidelines and watch you rail someone else? Leave her isolated here and lie to her about what you’ve been doing all night?”
“I’d never lie to her.”
“Just torture her with what she can’t have, then? Because I guarantee you won’t want to touch her if and when the time comes.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Are you seriously that obtuse?” Linnie dipped strips of material into a bowl of steaming water and began wrapping them around the fluff. “We’ve all been here long enough now that everyone knows everyone else’s business, Merrick. Rumors of your size are no longer rumors, but substantiated. It’s a fact that you won’t fuck anyone, client or not, if they’re on the smaller side or their limit list indicates no pain.”
He grunted in reluctant agreement. “And?”
“Christ Jesus, I’m not spelling it out for you. Think about the conversation we just had with her about sex, and think hard. Maybe you’ll put the pieces together.” When he tried to speak, she held up a damp hand. “No, this is done. It’s quiet time now, and you have a lot to mull over. I need to concentrate, so no more talking.”
Tamsyn floated there for a while, disconnected from active thoughts, enraptured by the process of building the cast. Dip, shake, wrap, smooth. Eventually, the cast covered her from the knuckles halfway down her arm, then Linnie’s fingers rolled the excess padding back over the edge of the damp material.
“All done,” she announced with satisfaction. “That should harden within ten, fifteen minutes so if she comes around before then, don’t let her move it. I’ll do regular checkups, but I shouldn’t need to see her formally until it comes off, if she’s still here. She can use it lightly—nothing strenuous—and it will need covering when she showers. Don’t get it wet, for God’s sake.”
Merrick nodded absently, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Figured it out yet?”
Dark, stormy green eyes landed on Tamsyn’s face. He seemed… concerned? Unhappy? Whatever that expression was, it made her want to lift her fingers to stroke his cheek. “She’s a virgin.”
Linnie wiped her hands dry on a towel, then patted his shoulder. “Gold star for you, big guy. Now you understand the predicament.” She started packing away her equipment. “I spoke with Evander before I came here. He’s willing to put her up in one of the guestrooms in the clubhouse and assign her company for the duration of her stay. She won’t be able to leave the room unless she signs the paperwork.”
“She’s lacking basic reading and writing skills.”
“Well, that’s problematic. She’ll be waited on hand and foot, Merrick. She’ll be safe and warm, thanks to you.”
Beneath the thinning layer of sedation, Tamsyn’s insecurities roared to life. The new boundaries Linnie laid out were nothing she hadn’t heard before, but the loss of Merrick? The threat forced her heart into skipping several beats.
She tried searching for his eyes, for an opportunity to beg him without a voice not to throw her away. She didn’t understand what she’d done for him to consider Linnie’s proposal; whatever it was, she’d fix it. Somehow.
A desperate, pathetic noise echoed in her throat.
Merrick didn’t even glance at her. Thumb rubbing back and forth over his mouth, he stared at the cast on her arm without seeing it.
What was he thinking? Was he imagining how easy it would be without her cluttering his life? How much time he’d regain when he didn’t have to feed her, bathe her, carry her useless carcass to and from the bathroom? How nice it would be to sleep in his own bed?
“I’ll give her a shot of pain meds to help with the wrist. The break wasn’t too misaligned, but she’ll still be sore. I can bump the sedation, keep her under while we make the transition back to the clubhouse—”
“No.”
Hope kindled beneath the fear eating through her stomach like acid.
“Merrick, consider what’s best for her .”
“I am. This lifestyle isn’t hers, Linnie. She can’t go home, won’t stay here, so once she finds her feet and her freedom, she’ll go her own way. Until then, she stays here with me unless she chooses otherwise.” He skewered the doctor with a hard stare when she tried to protest. “I know the score. She’s everything I’m not looking for, and she deserves better than me anyway.”
Linnie huffed, disagreeing.
“Don’t pfft at me—you started this, so I’ll finish it. I fuck rough, I fuck long, and I fuck hard. I’m a big guy with a matching dick, and my kinks aren’t beginner friendly. I know what I am, even if she doesn’t.” Now those eyes landed on Tamsyn, and they softened slightly when he realized she wasn’t quite as under the influence as she had been. “But one thing I’m not is a liar. Promises mean something to me, and I don’t break them. I made her a promise she’d be safe here, that I’d protect her, so no, she ain’t going unless she wants to go.”
“You’ll break her heart.”
“Maybe. Maybe she’ll break mine.”
The doctor threw her hands in the air, apparently admitting defeat. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two were perfect for each other. Stubborn asshole,” she muttered, shaking her head. “This is going to end in tears, you do know that, right? Actively ignoring the signs is just as bad as willfully pursuing a relationship.”
He shrugged. “Is that as bad as or equal to breaking a promise?”
“Does it really matter? Just don’t come to me when she’s mired in grief because you won’t fuck her, or you can’t be around her anymore in case you lose control and decide she’s yours. Now is the time to sever the connection, Merrick, or pay the consequences when they’re due.”
Tamsyn was well acquainted with consequences. Pain and death were the ultimate consequences in the community—disobey and be beaten; fail to procreate and be tortured; run and face death.
She tried to push her hand toward Merrick, to take hold of his and beg him to make the right choice. It was too heavy, too restrained by the drugs, to do anything more than let her fingers twitch.
Instead, she used her eyes, pleading with him.
“Life is for living, Linnie. I’ll stand by my promises.” Merrick picked up the toy owl that had fallen to Tamsyn’s side, tucking it under her arm. “But I will talk to her when her faculties return, and if she chooses another option, I’ll honor her decision.”
“She won’t leave unless you make her,” Linnie muttered, delving back into her bag. She huffed and puffed a few times, then attached another syringe to the port. “Half the subs here fall for you, Merrick.”
He scowled at her. “None of them can handle me. Neither will she. Let it go, Linnie. There are bigger things to worry about than whether or not I’m gonna deflower a virgin.”
“Christ.”
“The answer’s no. Her first time should be with someone she loves,” he said firmly, meeting Tamsyn’s eyes with a directness that made her heart sink. “Someone she can spend the rest of her life with if she wants. Not a man who likes his sex with an extra kick. Certainly not one who’ll cause her pain every time she’s with him.” He reached out and took her hand, giving her a wry smile. “Don’t get attached, little owl. You deserve so much more than I can ever offer.”
Don’t say that , Tamsyn thought as her eyes burned with tears. Her sight wavered, but not with the turbulent emotions messing her up. The pain meds swimming through her blood made her woozy and lightheaded.
“Don’t be sad,” Merrick whispered. “It’ll be okay, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”
*