Sixteen
SIXTEEN
Reagan
Spilling my guts to Hart shouldn’t have led me to thinking that I would suddenly have a different experience than I’d always had in my life.
Telling him all that I had was no different than if I’d just written it all in my journal. At least when I wrote in my journal, I didn’t wind up feeling so bad. This situation with Hart was far worse than a journal entry could ever be.
Because where I knew that my journal would only ever give me the opportunity to get out all that I was feeling, there would never be a response. Hart had the chance to say something, anything, and he chose to prove to me that everything I’d been told my whole life, everything people made clear with their actions toward me from almost as soon as I was born, was the truth.
I was worthless.
I didn’t deserve love.
I didn’t even deserve the decency of a response to laying my heart bare.
Having Hart validate that for me was all I needed. It was the final nail in the coffin.
I’d walked around for years with that void in my life, in my body, and I’d done so much pretending that it didn’t matter if I was taking steps to make a difference in the lives of people around me.
I couldn’t even do that now.
So, perhaps it was time to accept it. It was time to detach and learn to live with the heavy, dull pain in my body I’d grown accustomed to feeling so frequently.
While I still had no true indication of the time, I suspected I’d spent at least the first hour after Hart had left me alone in this room simply trying to understand how he’d gone from being reasonably kind to me to suddenly not even dignifying my words with a response.
After that, I’d spent the next several hours simply accepting that this was my fate. I’d never know real love, nor would I ever understand what it was like to be part of a real family.
And whatever happened to me from this point forward would just be the way it was. It was just as Hart had said before he left. I could have tried to escape if I wanted to, but there was a guard outside this room who wouldn’t let me get more than a few paces away. There was nowhere for me to go.
So, I did what I’d been doing from about the time I’d arrived here. I sat around and waited. While I did that, I tried to look on the bright side. At least I had access to a bed instead of the cold, hard floor to do all my waiting around and being insignificant. Hart would eventually come back, and since he’d made it clear that I had nothing of value to say, he could be the one to do all the talking.
I’d been laying in the bed, thinking about all the things I’d no longer get to do, when Hart returned. My eyes shifted just enough to confirm it was him, but I didn’t do anything else. I didn’t sit up and smile. I didn’t offer him a friendly greeting. I didn’t even make eye contact with him.
Hart closed the door behind him.
“We need to leave in fifteen minutes.”
At that news, I had no choice but to sit up and look at him. “Leave?”
As soon as the word was out of my mouth, I took in the state of him. He looked… uneasy. My body tensed, wondering if something bad had happened.
“They’re having a dinner, and we are obligated to go,” he explained.
I looked down at his dress shirt that was still covering my body. Was I expected to go to some restaurant like this?
“It’s here,” Hart declared, as though reading my thoughts. “You won’t need to change. In addition to the… staff that’s here, some of the other women who’d been in cells will be there tonight, likely in the dress you were wearing when I brought you back here. The buyers will be there, too.”
I inhaled deeply and tipped my chin up higher. I didn’t want him to think that I was bothered by this, but inside I was panicking just a touch. I didn’t suspect this was going to be a lovely gathering filled with engaging conversation and lots of laughter. “Okay. Fine.”
Hart’s brows pulled together, and he hesitated a moment, silently assessing me. “Is everything okay?”
I did my best to appear indifferent. “Sure.”
He sent me a look that told me he didn’t believe it, but he clearly decided against calling me out.
For the next five minutes or so, neither of us spoke. Hart sat down in the chair, and I remained on the bed. I refused to look at him, but I could feel his penetrating stare on me.
Following a long tension-filled silence, Hart spoke. “You’re going to have to follow my lead while we’re there, Reagan.”
“I’m afraid I’m unsure what you mean.”
“Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“I’m fine. Just tell me what I have to do. That’s my new job anyway, isn’t it? Pleasing you.”
Hart narrowed his eyes on me, his expression stony. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly it. The best thing you can do for yourself tonight is to listen to what I tell you to do.”
He didn’t care.
It didn’t bother him.
I’d laid my heart bare, and he all but stomped on it.
I really hadn’t ever anticipated him being this kind of guy, the kind of man who had the audacity to ask if everything was okay when he damn well knew it wasn’t.
“Then we have an agreement. I do what you ask me to do. That’s all there is to this.”
“You will need to act like you want to be there with me,” he noted.
I shot him a fake smile. “Oh, of all the options I’ve got in this new life, I’m sure you’re the best there is. Don’t worry, Hart. I’ll be a good little girl for you to humiliate.”
He rose harshly from the chair, crossed the room, and leaned over the bed, pressing his fists into the mattress as his face came to within an inch of mine. God, he was intimidating.
For a few seconds, he looked as though he was wrestling with something. Just when he parted his lips, and I thought he was going to speak, he pushed off his hands and strode into the bathroom. Only then did I let out a sigh of relief.
When he emerged a minute later, he said, “We have to leave now. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
“For what? To get all dolled up for a lovely dinner party? No, Mr. Anderson, I don’t need to use the bathroom.”
Surprise washed over him. “What the fuck is that about?”
“What?”
“Why are you calling me Mr. Anderson?”
“That’s your name, isn’t it? That’s how they referred to you. I figure, if you’re my master now, I should be appropriate.”
Hart looked ready to throttle me, but he decided to inhale deeply through his frustration instead. Then he took me by the hand and led me out of the room.
I quickly gleaned I’d been right from the very beginning about being in some sort of mansion. We took turns down so many halls to get to the room where the party was taking place.
And no matter how tough I might have been when I was alone in the room with Hart, my mental fortitude disappeared the moment we stepped inside the party.
How they could call it that, I didn’t know. I’d always associated parties with joy and celebration. I guess, in a way, that’s precisely what it was for the men. But as my eyes scanned the space, I knew it wasn’t anything close to that for the women.
Though I hated that it happened, my hand instantly tensed in Hart’s, and I shifted my body closer to his. I couldn’t do this.
No way.
No way could I sit here and have dinner and pretend that everything was fine, because there was nothing about this that was fine.
Men were seated all around two long tables, some seated on the chairs and couches throughout the massive space. But the women? Oh, God, the women.
They were either kneeling on the floor and being fed like dogs, or they weren’t even being given food. Instead, they were performing oral sex on the men while those men enjoyed a meal. And in two instances, there were women who were being raped on the couches.
I dropped my gaze to the floor, and Hart squeezed my hand back. He must have known how unbearable this was going to be for me. And while it seemed he wanted to show me a modicum of support, I couldn’t understand why he’d bring me here to begin with. Maybe it was his way of getting me to see that others had it much worse. At least he wasn’t willing to do any of this in front of everyone.
He tugged lightly on my hand and guided me forward. I remained a step or two behind him and attempted to use his body as a shield from the horrors in this room.
“Mr. Anderson,” one man said, walking right up to him. “Come and sit. We’ve got plenty of food and entertainment for you tonight. What can I get you to drink, sir?”
Hart answered, but I couldn’t pay attention to what he’d asked for. I was far too distraught by the sounds and the tears and the dead looks from the women to focus on anything else.
Hart lowered himself into a chair at one of the tables. I stood there, trembling with fear and terrified he was going to make me participate in this.
Without hesitation, Hart released my hand, wrapped his arm around my waist, and urged me into his lap. He draped one arm across the top of my thighs to offer me a bit more coverage. His other arm wrapped around my back and slid up to the back of my neck. With all the discomfort I felt being in this room, I couldn’t begin to care about the fact I was sitting in the lap of the man who had agreed to buy me like I was a piece of property.
As Hart squeezed the back of my neck, he leaned in and whispered, “Don’t look at any of it, okay? Just focus on me.”
I turned my head slightly and looked at him. For the first time since he’d arrived here, there was something soft and warm and reassuring in his gaze. His hand continued to massage my neck.
A plate of food and some water was set down in front of Hart. He jerked his chin up at the man who brought it and reached for the fork. For a foolish second, I diverted my attention to the plate of food and saw bite-sized pieces of beef and a sizable helping of mashed potatoes alongside some vegetables.
Movement just beyond the plate garnered my attention, and when I looked there, I wished I’d listened to Hart.
Because I saw a woman on the floor beneath the table and between a man’s legs. She was performing oral sex on him while he stuffed his face with food. Did he even let her eat?
“Reagan,” Hart whispered.
I snapped my head in his direction, and I had to believe he saw the fear in my features.
“Keep your eyes on me.” Hart lifted the fork with a piece of beef on it to my lips. I offered a slight shake of my head. “It’s okay. Just eat.”
I didn’t want to. I didn’t think I’d be able to keep anything down. But maybe it was the distraction I needed. So I parted my lips and ate the meat, chewing slowly.
Hart had taken two bites of steak and a forkful of potatoes in the time it took me to eat just one bite. Then he gave me a taste of the potatoes. I didn’t like them as much. They didn’t require any effort, which made it easier for the sights and sounds to filter in. Seemingly aware of that fact, Hart offered another bite of the steak.
“It’s Anderson, right?”
That question came from the man sitting beside us. I didn’t dare look him in the eyes, but I did shift my attention to the woman with him. She was kneeling on the floor next to his chair, her eyes downcast and her posture slumped.
“That’s right. You are?”
“Stevens. Jonathan Stevens.”
Hart jerked his chin up in acknowledgement.
“You’re taking a different approach with that one,” he noted. “She’s got your shirt on, and you’re feeding her.”
Hart shrugged. “I tend to find that the sweeter you are with them, the more likely they are to return the favor. Plus, I don’t like fucking a woman who has no stamina. Without any food, she’ll have no energy, and I’m not interested in having her get exhausted long before I do.”
I was going to throw up.
Jonathan Stevens laughed. “That’s a good idea. I hadn’t thought about that.”
No kidding. His body was spilling over the sides of his chair as he chowed down.
“What do you think, darling? Would you like something to eat?”
My eyes were still focused on the girl on the floor, and at the mention of food, she nearly cried. “Yes, please.”
She was starving.
Instead of using the fork, Jonathan held the piece of meat up to her mouth with his fat fingers, pushing them along with the beef into her mouth.
“Thanks for the tip, Anderson. This one was less than enthusiastic last night, so maybe things will turn around tonight.”
Hart was quick to respond. “Trust me. They definitely will.”
Jonathan gave the girl another bite. “Do you like this, darling?”
“Yes.”
“How about you do something nice for me, and I’ll give you even more.”
Oh, no.
I couldn’t watch this.
“What would you like me to do?”
“Jerk me off, baby.”
My hand went to my stomach. He was going to make her jerk him off just so she could eat. As much as I hated Hart for this, he’d freely and willingly gave me food without demanding anything in return. But based on what he’d just shared, it seemed he was hellbent on getting me back to the size I was before I’d been brought here. There was no telling what he’d do after that.
I closed my eyes and tried to take a few settling breaths. But it didn’t work. Hart held the fork to my lips again, and I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“Eat. You have to eat.”
My insides were trembling. “No. Please, no.”
Hart kept the fork at my lips. “Open your mouth.”
I pressed my lips together in defiance.
“Reagan.” His voice was low, but there was a warning in his tone.
I had reached my breaking point. I thought I could do this. I thought I could follow his orders and do what he said, but I wasn’t prepared for this. “I said no.”
He sent me a warning look.
“Use your mouth, darling.” Jonathan Stevens’s voice floated over to my ears, and that was it.
I jerked out of Hart’s hold, and his eyes went wide. “I’m not doing this. I can’t. I won’t.”
Silence fell over the room, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.
Hart stood slowly, curled his fingers around my wrist, and leaned in close. “You need to settle down. Sit down and relax.”
I shook my head. “No. No, don’t make me do it. Don’t make me sit here through this. Do you have any idea what this is doing to me?”
“Is something wrong, Mr. Anderson?”
My body tensed, Hart’s hold on me growing tighter.
“She’s a little shy, it seems,” Hart told the man who’d walked up.
“Seems quite the opposite. Is she looking to put on a show for us?”
No.
No, no, no.
My breath was stuck in my lungs, and tears had filled my eyes.
Please don’t make me do anything here, I thought.
“I think she might need a lesson,” Hart said.
A sob tore up my throat. He knew what happened the last time they taught me a lesson. How could he suggest something so cruel?
Shaking my head, I resorted to begging. “I’ll sit down. I’ll be quiet. I promise.”
Hart barely acknowledged me as the man asked, “What did you have in mind, sir?”
“Maybe she needs a night back in her cell,” Hart suggested. “She can take some time to think about her situation and decide how she wishes to behave from here on out.”
The tears spilled down my cheeks as my insides trembled furiously. “Please,” I rasped.
“It’s best you take some time to calm down,” Hart said. “Return to your cell, and I’ll come by in the morning to see if you’ve changed your mind about participating.”
Yanking my hand out of his grasp, I attacked. I launched myself at him, pounding my fists against his chest. “I hate you! You son of a bitch, I hate you!”
Several sets of hands landed on my body to pull me off Hart. His eyes were as wide and wild as I felt inside, and with a massive effort, two men pulled me away from him.
“Just kill me,” I begged, struggling to get out of their grasp to get to Hart again. “Kill me and let me die!”
He stood there, frozen and devoid of any emotion, as he watched them lead me toward the exit.
I never stopped fighting their pull, even though each movement ached against their hold, and I kept my pained stare on his face.
The men dragged me out of the room, and once we were out of sight of everyone else, one of the men smacked me across the face. My neck snapped in the opposite direction just as the other punched me in the stomach.
“Hey!”
I doubled over in pain at the blow, when the sound of Hart’s voice from only a few feet away filtered into my ears.
“Yes, Mr. Anderson?”
I was attempting to catch my breath, so I couldn’t look up at him, but I heard his footsteps coming in my direction. He came to a stop in front of me, and the men released their hold on my arms.
Hart put his hand to my elbow to ease my body upright. He stared into my eyes for a few seconds before he cut his gaze to my escorts. “I do not need to remind you that I’ve already put down a hefty sum of money on her. Even if I’ve requested that she be returned to her cell for the evening, she is technically still mine. That means that nobody touches her.”
“What do you care who touches me?” I muttered.
“That’s enough,” he clipped.
“Fuck you. I don’t care how much money you’ve paid or how many times you force yourself on me. I’ll never be yours.”
Hart had the audacity to look tormented. He gave me all of two or three seconds to take in that look before he slipped the jacket of his suit off his body and draped it lightly over his arm. “I’ll walk with all of you to see her back to her cell for the night.”
“Mr. Anderson, we can handle this.”
“And I’ll be sure I’m getting what I’m paying for, so I’m coming with you.”
With that, the four of us walked back through the halls in silence until we reached my cell. I refused to acknowledge Hart. Never again. After this, I’d never find myself confused about what was happening inside his head. He was just as evil as the rest of them, even if he hadn’t done everything the buyers had done to the other women.
As the guards opened my cell, Hart put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face him. Feeling so broken and defeated, I kept my head down. He put his jacket over my shoulders and pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look up at him.
He held my stare, something that looked a lot like longing and remorse in his gaze. “Use this time alone tonight wisely, shortcake.” I gasped at the use of that nickname. Hart brushed his thumb along my jaw. “I’ll see you soon.”
I swallowed past a lump in my throat as his hand fell away. Then I was ushered into the cell.
When the door slammed shut and locked behind me, I curled up on the floor and cried, never looking back at the man I once thought I’d fallen in love with.