4. Chapter 4 #2
In the distance, I can see huge stables and other structures. Our stables hold six horses, and on top is where I live. His stables look even bigger. There are other structures, but I have no idea what they’re for. Did he ever get his hay?
When the car pulls to a stop, the driver gets out and opens the door for me. As soon as my feet hit the gravel, the driver gets back into the car and drives off.
“Okay, then.”
I walk up to the front door and press the doorbell as knots form in my stomach. The entire place is practically glass, so there’s no privacy, but since no one lives close by and it’s far off from the road, I guess it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t take long for Mason to open the door.
He looks handsome in a midnight-blue button-up that’s open halfway, exposing groomed chest hair, paired with jeans.
Other than that, he’s barefoot, even in this cold.
His hair is damp and fingered back, and like the last time I saw him, his scruff is perfectly trimmed.
Yep, he’s pretty hot. I guess I could get down with a sexy man fucking me.
Usually, the men were average or kind of gross-looking back when I was forced to sell myself.
“I thought you’d have some servant open up for you,” I say, stepping inside.
“The first thing you’ll learn is politeness, Jinx. When you enter someone’s home, you will greet them respectfully.”
“I didn’t say I was gonna do shit.”
He ignores me, walking off somewhere, and says, “And no using expletives.”
I quickly follow him toward the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of red wine.
It’s a huge gourmet kitchen, much like the one we have at home, but his place has cleaner lines, and it’s more contemporary, with dark gray cabinets, clean and without handles.
It has pale wood accents along the base of the island and open shelving.
“Why are you here, Jinx?”
My jaw drops, and I toss my hands up in the air. “Because you asked me to, bro!”
He looks completely unfazed. “I’m not your ‘bro.’ You will refrain from calling me that ever again. And no slang. Besides, you know what I meant. Why did you decide to come here? And don’t lie; I’ll know.”
“Answers? Curiosity?”
He simply nods and takes a sip of his wine. “Sit down, Jinx. Please.”
I sit on a stool at the massive kitchen island, covered in some sort of polished stone. It’s white, threaded with gray that looks like marble, but it’s something else. I rub my clammy hands on the cold surface.
Mason sits next to me and stares into my soul, I swear to god. “Can I get you something?”
I shake my head.
“Very well. Before we begin, I’d like you—”
“Begin what?!”
“And no interrupting me.”
I’m starting to regret coming. Jeez. What’s up with this dude and his thousand rules? But I give in and nod; otherwise, I’ll never get my answers.
“I would like to know your story, Jinx. We cannot begin without it. I need to know how far to take this and how to handle you.”
As much as I want to scream and demand he tell me what the fuck is going on, being honest will be the fastest way to get me there.
“Can I have some wine first?”
“You are underage.”
I give him a flat look, as if it matters way out here. It’s not like I’m going to turn him in.
“Please,” I grit.
With a sigh, he stands, grabs a glass from the cabinet, and pours me a drink.
“Thank you,” I say, just to please him for some fucking reason, and take a sip of the bold, dry wine.
“You’re welcome. Now, explain, please.”
“I like women, you know?”
“You like women. You avoid men. I need to know why.”
Fuck, I swear, he can see right through me. “How?”
“I didn’t know you liked women. I assumed you liked men until you just told me, so I immediately put two and two together.”
I take another sip of wine and play with the stem of the glass, unable to look at him as shame courses through me. It wasn’t my fault my life happened, but now, whatever remaining confidence I have vanishes.
“My mother was born in Romania. She came here and tried to make a better life for herself. While in college, some douche canoe raped her, and, for some reason, she chose to have me. After a year, she died. Don’t ask from what. I don’t know. There’s little information about her or me after that.”
Mason watches me, scrutinizing. “Then what happened?”
“Then someone found me, sold me, who the fu—fudge knows. I don’t remember when I was handed off to Tito, a pimp, rapist, and douchebag extraordinaire, but I was pretty young.
I was a baby, probably. He beat and… raped his boys, then forced them to be hookers for pervy old men.
They were all old to me when I was a kid. ”
“How old were you when he first touched you?”
“He touched me and shi—stuff when I was like six. But he first raped me when I was ten.”
The backhand came out of nowhere. I instantly fall to the ground, bleeding from my nose, when Tito rips off my clothes. I’m crying and fighting him, but a kick to my back makes me instantly compliant.
He lifts my body off the floor and throws me onto the bed. I’m small, so it’s easy for him. After he binds my hands while I’m face down on the bed, he starts to prep me. It hurts so much…
I can’t stop crying.
He hits me for that, too.
My eyes try to water at the gut-punching memory, but I shove the pain back with a cough and a shuddering deep breath.
I’ll never fucking forget that day. The day I was first raped.
When I got back to the room I shared with Aleks, who was Romeo back then, I was sobbing and in so much pain.
Something shifted in him. He got angry. When he went to confront Tito, he had the ever-loving shit beaten out of him.
It took him over a week to recover. It was all my fault.
Mason sips his wine. The only emotion I see on his face is the clenching of his jaw. “That explains your resistance to men.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Experience,” he says quickly. “I could see your need to submit. But there was fear that flashed in your eyes when I got close to you the other day. Sure, it was a power move on my part, and anyone would’ve gotten nervous, but you hid your fear well.
That, along with your poor attitude and defiance, made you come off stronger than you really are. ”
“I’m not weak,” I snap, feeling fucking naked and vulnerable.
“No, you are not weak. I never said that, but you definitely put on a mask of toughness that you hide behind. It’s safe. It’s protective. It keeps you from getting close to others. Let me guess: all your relationships have failed.”
I grind my molars, so I don’t gape at him. I want to yell that he’s wrong. That he’s fucking full of it. I can’t stop my watering eyes, and I’m pissed about it. “You a shrink or something?”
“I’m a restaurant owner. You know this. I’m just good at… observing people. I also knew someone who was very much like you.”
“Who?”
He ignores me and asks, “How did you feel about being a sex worker and being used by people?”
“Gee, I fudging loved it. What do you think?” When he doesn’t respond, just staring at me, I shrug. “It sucked, okay? But there was this man once, though…”
“Who?”
“Phillip. He was kind of old and a little overweight, but he was… good to me, I guess.”
I don’t know how Mason does it, but I get lost in memories I’ve fought so hard to forget as I recount the man I begged to buy me from Tito.
He’d been so nice when so few people out there were.
I was his boy that he loved to spank, then reward me with swimming lessons, driving lessons, and fucking babying me like I was special. Like I actually mattered.
“How old was he?”
I shrug again. “I’m not sure. Around fifty or something? He had gray hair and wrinkles. Again, everyone looked old to me back then.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“He wasn’t so good, I would say.”
The man was nice to me. They were all fucking perverts, but he was the only one who seemed to care. I huff at Mason. “You don’t know shit!” The word slips, but I don’t care. “I mean, you want me, and I’m what? Over twenty years younger?”
If he’s angry, he doesn’t show it, nor does he react to my swearing. “You’re an adult, free to make your own decisions. You can go any time you want. If you stay, it will all be consensual. With that said, I’m uncomfortable with your age, and that’s why I changed my mind about bringing you on.”
“Yet, here I am.”
He watches me, swirling his wine before he takes a sip again.
“Yet, here you are. To be fair, I’m still having second thoughts, but I’m entirely intrigued by you for some reason.
If we do agree to move forward, sex will always be your choice.
We can take sex entirely out of the equation if you wish.
” Before I can respond, he asks, “How long were you with Phillip?”
“Not long enough. Several months on and off. Tito would never let me live with Phillip, but he was a regular.”
“How did you finally escape? A man like Tito would never simply let you go.”
No way I’m telling him Tito was killed. That’s a massive secret between Julien, Aleks, and me.
“When I was sixteen, Aleks, the one you met the other night, and I escaped. We ran and ran. We came to live here in Durango with Julien. The other two guys you also met were trafficked, too, and lived with us back then. They only recently escaped.”
He nods thoughtfully. “You’ve received therapy since, yes?”
“Yep,” I say and chug back the last of my wine.
Mason pours me another, and even though I’ve prepped for tonight in case we do have sex, I drink it anyway.
“What about you? You gonna tell me about yourself and why I’m here despite your second thoughts?”
He tilts his head as he observes me. “I think you’ve got a good idea why you’re here. Why don’t you tell me?”