Chapter 7 #6
Before I can stop myself, I say, “Parents who have lost children have a look in their eye, a look that never goes away. You don’t have it.
” That’s one thought that can’t be hidden, no matter how hard you try or how well you’re trained.
It’s a permanent scar that only certain people know how to recognize—the ones who have identical ones.
He studies me too intently at that, so I quickly continue on.
The next bit is a lie, but I say it anyway, wanting to see his reaction.
“You’re ruthless, savage, and sadistic. You enjoy the power you hold and the pain you inflict to keep it, maybe even get off on it.”
He clenches his jaw before he stands and stalks forward, eyes going dark.
I remain still as he comes closer and closer.
I crane my head upward to meet his gaze when he’s only a foot away.
He stares down at me, cold menace radiating from him.
Real, or forced after my assessment? Right now, he looks every bit the heartless bastard who would stick someone’s head on a pike or carve out their heart.
I can feel the heat from his body seeping into mine, and again, my own body reacts to his nearness despite the small tendril of fear working its way up my spine. Again, I curse it.
His gaze bores into mine and it takes everything in me not to look away at the intensity of his eyes.
“Is that what you really think?” he asks quietly, voice gone low and rough.
I swallow hard. Half from fear, half from…
something else, but I don’t answer. His lips curl up on one side.
This time isn’t the playful half-smile he flashed earlier.
This one is cold and calculated and sharp as a blade.
How easily he slips in and out of the different personas.
The question is, which one is the real thing, and which is the mask?
“I think that’s enough for tonight, Melody.”
I blink and back away, head spinning, and nod.
I quickly make my way out of the room, leaving my glass on the dining table as I go.
The guards outside give me inquisitive looks, but I don’t pay them much attention, rushing inside my own room as fast as I can.
I lean my back against the door after I close it, not quite understanding what in the hell had just happened or where I stand on the entire situation.
Austin Traeger…confounds me, and that’s not something I’m used to.
I replay every single second, trying to figure him out, and heat spreads through my chest when I think about settling over top of him.
I tried to tell myself that I hadn’t actually wanted him, that I’d just assumed being his plaything was what was expected of me, so I was doing what I had to…
but when I’d glanced down at his lips, a part of me had wanted.
A dark, lonely, fucked up part of me had wanted him so badly it made it hard to breathe.
I bang my head softly against the door several times.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk,” I whisper. I sigh heavily and finally push away from the door.
I change into some sleep shorts and crawl into the luxurious bed.
I’m not ready to grieve the loss of Jonah yet, so I just try to think through everything I’ve seen since arriving and wonder what might be in store for me in the days to come.
Not much time has passed before I hear Traeger’s door open and close once more.
Was he leaving? No, someone had come inside.
I hear low voices, muffled so I can only make out that they’re talking, but not the words.
A few seconds later I hear a loud thud through our shared wall, in what must be his bedroom.
The door hitting the wall maybe? A second later, another thud sounds, though this one is a little softer, more like…
bodies hitting the wall? Followed by…moans.
Oh my God.
I bolt upright in the bed and tilt my head to listen. Is he…Are they…? Muffled groans and grunts and cries of pleasure fill my ears, and soon enough, the unmistakable sounds of people getting busy, the headboard thudding against the wall just on the other side of mine.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter as over the top screams begin. Whoever he’s with right now is very theatric.
“Yes, Traeger. Oh God, it feels so good! Don’t stop! Oh God, you’re so good! Yes, baby!”
I roll my eyes so hard they nearly get stuck.
One of the infamous concubines there to earn her keep, I guess.
So…why hadn’t he wanted me to do the same?
And why do I care?! I should be glad that he isn’t forcing me to do that shit.
Him not being a fucking rapist on top of everything else should be a good thing.
What the hell is wrong with me? I pinch the bridge of my nose, deciding that the whiskey isn’t helping my thought process at all.
I lay back and try to ignore the sounds, but I can’t.
More moans, more pleas, more ridiculous praise and begging for him to keep going.
Why the hell are these walls so thin? Did echo-friendly mean zero sound proofing?
I turn over to lie on my stomach and slam a pillow over my head, but even that doesn’t drown them out completely.
Austin Traeger is apparently very far from a one-pump chump, and it seems to go on for hours. Good for whoever he’s with, I guess.
Finally, exhaustion pulls me under into a blissfully dreamless sleep.