38. Chapter 38
Justin
I dutifully open my mouth for the pizza slice Cameron holds in front of me, then let my head fall on his chest as I chew.
We’re lounging on the massive sectional, wrapped in blankets, munching on pizza from a place Cameron must be keeping afloat by himself, judging by how often he orders from them.
We’re having pineapple pizza, because I’m not the only crazy person in the room, but I actually find the taste somewhat acceptable.
Especially when Cameron smiles at me after every bite, like he’s proud of me for eating.
After the last few days of barely feeling anything, including thirst or hunger, I didn’t think I’d eat much, but the first bite awakens something ravenous inside of me, and I polish several slices without a pause. Or maybe it’s the sex. It is said that good sex encourages appetite, isn’t it?
My ear is right over Cameron’s heart, and when I stop chewing, I can hear its strong, regular rhythm. It’s soothing, lulling me into sleep, but I’ve slept enough. I have to prove to Cameron that I’m over whatever mental breakdown I suffered, and taking a nap isn’t the best way to go about it.
“Am I allowed to ask if the phone call earlier was good news or bad news?”
Cameron sighs and slowly chews, like he’s giving himself time to think the answer through. He doesn’t sound angry I asked, which is great. I’ve missed talking to him. “You’re allowed to ask and…” He hesitates. “I’m not entirely sure. I think it’s good news, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
“Is there trouble?” With the way he’s been acting, all wound up and angry, I have a feeling he’s in some deep shit, but I don’t want to presume. “Can I do something?”
He hugs me tighter. “You’re already doing something. Just stay with me.”
“Well, I’ve already been planning on doing that.”
“Oh, you’ve been planning?” Cameron teases. “Tell me, pet, what else have you been planning?”
“Just the usual. Obeying my Master and making him happy. Maybe some world domination,” I can’t help but inject some levity into the statement. I don’t want him to think my over the top admission is some ploy to get him to trust me.
His arms tighten even further, making it hard to breathe. “Fuck, Justin. You’re something else. I suppose you should know what’s going on, though. There’s this detective. He’s been after me for a while, trying to get me to rat out my customers’ secrets, but he never succeeded.”
A detective. A week ago, such information would make me leap with joy. It would have meant a chance at freedom. Now it fills me with dread. Cameron can’t go to jail. “What happened?”
“He faked some evidence that I’d been his informant for a while and leaked the intel.”
“Oh my god.” My dread was definitely justified.
I can only imagine what the underworld does to people who work with the police.
“Are you in danger?” Am I in danger? If they kill Cameron, I’ll follow shortly after.
Or worse, I’ll end up in some human trafficking hell or cut up for my barely functional organs.
I’m calling no on all those options. “What’s the plan? ”
Cameron sighs into my hair. “I’ve talked to some people, trying to convince them it’s all a scam. Some believed me, most didn’t. I’ve called in some favors to keep the main families from taking me out, but my clients…”
No one wants to get tattooed by a rat. “Damn. And the phone call?” I ask carefully, noting the tension in his frame. I don’t want him to lash out, but talking it through seems to be taking some weight off his shoulders. Besides, he said the phone call might have been good news.
“Rossi wants to meet. He’s…important.”
Translation: some sort of mafia leader. Most of my knowledge about organized crime comes from movies and TV shows, but I’m not entirely clueless. “If he wanted you dead, he’d just send his henchmen after you, right?”
“Henchmen?” Cameron snorts. “He isn’t a supervillain. But yes, he likely doesn’t want to meet just to threaten me. He refused to even hear me out before, so I wonder what changed. Maybe Sin has gotten through to him.”
I remember that name. “The person who called you.” The one who made the phone ring over and over until I grabbed it and then… I shake my head, determined not to dwell on the past. “Are they a friend?”
Just like I expected, Cameron shakes his head. “I wouldn’t call her a friend, but we’ve had each other’s backs for a while.”
So she is a friend, only they can’t afford to call it that. In their world, friendship is probably a sign of weakness.
I look around the spacious living room and wonder how often, if ever, Cameron has someone over.
The sectional could easily seat a dozen people, if not more, but I doubt he’s ever had so many visitors.
Maybe for one of those high society impersonal parties.
That I could imagine. But simply hanging out, watching a game, drinking a beer and eating junk food?
I doubt Cameron has people in his life to do that with.
Which is why he’s so set on the idea of having a pet.
Of course. How did I not connect the dots before?
I’m not here because Cameron wanted to have someone to fuck constantly at his beck and call.
It might be part of the reason, but not the whole truth.
What Cameron needed was a companion. Someone to watch TV with, to chat with.
To complain to when he had a shitty day at work.
Cameron Matthews was lonely, and his solution was to have someone kidnapped.
It’s wrong. It’s horrifying. But…
I guess there are worse reasons for a kidnapping.
“What are you thinking about?” Cameron pokes my cheek. “You’ve got some really sketchy expression going on.”
“Um…” I scramble for something appropriate to say. Asking Cameron if he was lonely before I came along wouldn’t go over well. “I was thinking about your friend. I mean, your not-quite-a-friend. Who is she?”
Cameron looks at me suspiciously. Does he think I’m fishing for information to give to the police once I escape? He must be wary of my sudden change of heart, and he’s right to be. Who accepts a lifetime of captivity that easily?
“I’m sorry.” I sigh. How do I convince him I’m being genuine? I guess I’ll have to be patient. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just wanted to know more about you.”
He places a hand on my throat, squeezing lightly. “If this is a trick…”
I’m sure he meant it to sound like a threat, but I hear the fear and vulnerability behind the words.
He’s afraid to get hurt. My big bad captor is afraid to trust me not because I could get him in jail, but because he doesn’t want to get his heart broken.
I feel for him. When he punished me without even hearing me out, it wasn’t just the cane that hurt.
I look him in the eyes. “No tricks.”
His fingers flex on my neck. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to push me away, but then his grip relaxes a fraction. His thumb caresses my skin. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
I chuckle. “I feel like we’ve been here before.”
Cameron’s teeth flash white as he grins. “Yeah. Now, I could tell you all about Sin, but…” He hesitates, his smile slipping as he studies my expression. “Maybe it would be better if you saw for yourself. She’s quite something.”
Saw for myself? “You mean…”
“Sin has a club, which is where Rossi wants to meet. It’s neutral ground, so it should be safe. It’s actually a good sign that Rossi wants to meet me there. Being seen in public with him could help my reputation.” He grimaces. “Unless he wants to publicly declare me an enemy.”
Cameron’s musing sounds important, but I can barely focus on it. A club. He’s going to take me out to a club? I shouldn’t be excited about it, especially since we’d be meeting a high-ranked criminal who might or might not want Cameron dead, but I can’t help it.
It’s odd because I’m not much of a people person, and going to a club was a nightmare even before I got kidnapped. Although I doubt some mafia head honcho would want to meet up in a college dive bar with beer spilled on the floor and thumping music so loud you can’t hear your thoughts.
“Is it like a gentlemen’s club, with high armchairs and men smoking cigars and drinking bourbon from bottles that cost thousands of dollars?”
Cameron snorts. “So, we’ve moved from supervillains to Bond-movie villains?
Yes to the expensive bottles and comfortable armchairs,” he says before I can react to his teasing.
“Big no to the gentlemen part.” The thought seems to amuse him.
“A gentlemen’s club.” He laughs. “Sin’s going to laugh her head off when I tell her. ”
“I’m glad you find me funny, Sir,” I grumble halfheartedly. I don’t like to be the butt of the joke, but at least Cameron looks happier than he has in days.
“Among other things. Now, if you’ve finished eating,” he grabs my arms and pushes me off his lap, “put my cock in your mouth. Show me how eager you are to please your Master. On your knees, pet.”
As I sink onto the soft rug, warmth spreads through me. Cameron smiles down at me, waiting with that quiet certainty that I'll obey.
I smile back.
This is where I belong. I can't believe it took me so long to figure it out.