Chapter Fourteen
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Ily
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LEAVING.
God, yes.
I’d give anything to leave. Right now. Immediately.
The way he said it echoed with the same longing within me. Almost as if he wanted to run too. Which made absolutely no sense because he’d been given the keys to a despicable playground where no rules or reprimands existed. He could be exactly what he wanted to be. What he confessed to be.
The things he’d admitted in the foyer repeated over and over in my mind.
“I want to know what it feels like to hold her life in my hands. To fuck her to the brink of death. To bleed her to the edge of nothing. To bruise her until her very bones are imprinted with my ownership.”
Who even said that?
Who wanted that?
A monster, that’s who.
I shuddered as he tugged the leash again, jiggling the awful collar fastened around my throat. I’d only worn it a few hours, yet I hated it more than anything.
I hated the claustrophobia.
The weight.
The wrongness.
The constant reminder of pain, obedience, and captivity.
“Get up,” he hissed when I didn’t move quick enough.
Scrambling to my feet, I swayed a little as my head rung from Victor hitting me before Henri had arrived.
He’d only slapped me, but the force still throbbed in my cheekbone.
The berry smoothie Peter had made me drink fermented in my stomach, adding to my nausea that this was real, this was happening, and no matter how much I wished I could wake from this nightmare, I couldn’t.
“Can you walk, or did he hit you elsewhere?” Henri asked tightly.
My gaze wrenched to his. At least he had the decency to look me in the eyes and not leer at my nudity. “Do you care?”
His jaw worked. “Of course I care.”
I fought the urge to cover myself, keeping my hands balled and arms down by my sides. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve mistaken your decency for obscenity, seeing as you’re the reason I’m here.”
With a low groan, he pinched the bridge of his nose. For a second, he didn’t respond. He shook his head as if unable to figure out a response.
“Henri, is it?”
His head snapped up as a middle-aged guest stepped around the abandoned breakfast table and held out his hand. His skin bordered on leathery from too much sun, but his thick head of brown hair said he wasn’t as old as his crow’s feet suggested. “I’m Patrick.”
With an unreadable expression, Henri shook Patrick’s hand. “Henri.”
“First day, huh.” Patrick smirked, his green eyes landing on me and making their slippery way down my bareness.
I shivered.
My nipples puckered.
I hated that evolution used the same reaction for coldness, fear, and lust. Biology didn’t care why it pebbled my nipples and flushed my skin with highly sensitive, highly reactive states of awareness.
The racing heart.
The sweaty palms.
The sudden prickling, tickling sensations in my bones to fight, submit, or cry.
Heightened sensitivity should only come from good things. Wanted things. Not because of this. Not because I was so fucking scared, I felt sick.
Livid tears dared roll down my cheeks.
Henri’s attention snapped to those salty droplets. His gaze darkened beneath thick black eyelashes. He stood taller, somehow sensing how close I was to shattering. How fragile my self-control turned out to be.
I wanted to snap.
I wanted to scream and shout and run.
God, I wanted to run.
And run and RUN.
I wanted to bolt to the stone walls, claw at the closed drawbridge, and brave the bullets from whatever gun would mow me down.
I can’t stay here.
I-I can’t.
Krish needs me.
He’d always need me.
Not a single day had passed when I hadn’t seen him at least once—even living with Sam. The trip to Paris had only happened because I’d drawn up a calendar of how long I’d be gone and promised to FaceTime at least four times a day.
How was he coping?
Was he breaking, same as me?
A despairing moan escaped me.
God, Krish—
“Stop crying,” Henri barked, his voice black and hollow. “Right now.” Grabbing my elbow, he yanked me into his side. His eyes locked onto Patrick; the hollowness in his tone switched to arctic. “Nice to meet you, Patrick, but I’ve been tasked with training this one and I should really get started.”
Patrick licked his lips; his slimy gaze lingered between my legs. “I can help if you’d like? I overheard Vic tell you where the library is. I haven’t used that room yet and wouldn’t mind experimenting with a couple of books. I’m sure the thicker editions could bruise flesh quite nicely.”
I bared my teeth.
Henri shook me.
“No need. I prefer to work on my own.”
“You know you’ll have to share her eventually, right?” Patrick’s friendly act dissolved. “She’s new. She’s caught the eye of most of us.” He waved at the men all congregating on the never-ending lawn, not so subtly watching us. “There’s a rule that we all get to have a turn with a new jewel.”
“That might be, but she’s mine for the weekend.” Henri stepped past Patrick and dragged me down the steps. I tripped into him, my feet not cooperating. His fingers pinched my elbow, but he didn’t look down. “Take it up with Victor if you have a problem.”
“Oh, I will. We all will.” Patrick crossed his arms over his pale yellow polo shirt. “You’re not a member yet. You’ve been given a great gift, and you can play with it for a little while, but mark my words, by tonight, she’ll be fair game.”
With a wink, he spun in his flipflops and marched back to a pretty slave kneeling by a manicured bush. He grabbed a handful of her sandy hair and dragged her crawling beside him.
Fierce, unquenchable rage billowed through me.
This place.
These people.
They were...despicable.
All of it.
Every last one.
Fury ignited before I could be rational.
Sheer hatred and uncontrollable violence had me yanking my arm from Henri’s hold and screeching at the crowd. “You’re all going to pay. Karma will get you. Eventually. You’re all bastards. Rotten fucking bastards. Every single one of—”
Pain.
Seering, slicing heat bolted through my nervous system, stealing my ability to stand.
I collapsed onto the grass, twitching, spasming.
I’d never been electrocuted until today. Never known how it felt to have a power strong enough to kill tear through my veins and blood.
Now I did.
And it wasn’t the slicing shock that hijacked my bodily functions but the punch of it. The throbbing wallop after wallop as if a thousand men circled me and pummelled me with their fists.
As quickly as the pain tore through my bones, it stopped.
Henri stood over me, casting me in his shadow. “That was for speaking without permission.”
Asshole.
Monster.
Sadist.
I huddled into a little ball, hugging myself, twitching as residual energy arced through me.
“Stand up and say you’re sorry.” Impatient fingers locked around my arm again, only to tear away with a yelp. “Fuck.” Shaking out his hand, Henri cursed. “You shocked me.”
A guest snickered. “Another rule...don’t touch the jewel while you’re disciplining them. The current passes to you. Best not to touch them for a few seconds after you push the button, just to be sure.”
“Thanks,” Henri muttered darkly. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
Next time?
I groaned and wished I could kill him.
Kill all of them.
“Good to see you’re committed to her training,” another guest drawled. “Would be such a shame if someone told Victor that you’re not up to the task.”
Henri went dangerously still. “I don’t like snitches, and I don’t like gossip. This jewel is mine, and if anyone has a problem with that, then you deal directly with me.”
Another ripple of chuckles. “Just keep breaking that stubborn beauty of yours, and you’ll fit right in.”
“I intend to.” Bending over me again, Henri hesitated before catching my wrist and hauling me upright. “Starting with a private session in the library.”
He dragged me toward the castle. The leash attached to my collar dangled down my back, licking at my heels. The fact that Henri had forgotten to grab it and would rather keep hold of me didn’t go unnoticed.
My skin crawled as he pulled me through the open sliding doors, through the decadence of a smoky, sultry billiard room, through a bar with a million colourful liquor bottles, past a glass wall dripping with condensation from an indoor swimming pool, and finally into the foyer where we’d first arrived.
The foyer where he’d admitted he wanted to make me scream because that was what he got off on. Admitted that he wanted my pain. My tears. My fight so he could hold me down and prove to me that I belonged to him, and there was nothing I could do about it.
My chest crumbled in on itself.
My heart crushed beneath an avalanche of grief.
Tingles continued to zap in my fingertips, and I couldn’t stop my tears any more than I could stop breathing.
Henri muttered a slur under his breath as he kept yanking me deeper into the castle, following the directions he’d been given.
His black loafers barely whispered over the travertine slabs.
His slightly shaking hand squeezed me so damn hard as we bowled through luxury, past tall arches leading into parlours and tea rooms, skirted through spaces large enough for twenty cars, and ignored a few guests with various body parts thrusting into dead-eyed jewels.
A masculine gasp tipped my chin up as we cut through a room full of overstuffed settees and puffy flower-printed ottomans. Ferns and palms grew in huge black pots, and the sweeping glass wall brought the manicured gardens inside.
Through my watery vision, I found the source of the gasp.
Peter.
My heart sank as Henri yanked me through the space, but he wasn’t quick enough. I stumbled as I drank in the sight of Peter kneeling between the legs of an obese white man, his hairy belly almost resting on his thighs all while Peter pleasured him with his mouth.
Our eyes locked for a single heartbeat before the man grabbed Peter’s hair and shoved his face back down.
This can’t be real—
Good people. Kind people. They couldn’t be at the mercy of monsters. It just...didn’t compute.
It’s not right.
None of this is right!
I swayed toward Peter, desperate to help him.