She cried out in shock and froze when she felt hands on her, but could tell it was her tormentor before she saw him or he said a single word.
This was Marcus all over, and it was then she realised how he was always close by these days. Always there to clean and bathe her. To bring her food and the medicine that took away her aches and pains for a blissful few hours. And because of all of that, she had come to depend on him. His touch didn’t make her flinch or shy away like before. Had she gotten so used to his hands on her body that she was becoming desensitised to him? That, or he was breaking her down. Breaking through her guarded walls. She wanted to scream and cry at the sheer thought.
“Let me help you,” Marcus whispered, “I’ll be careful.”
Wynter wanted to refuse, but instead she nodded. There was no use in fighting it. She needed him, whether she liked it or not.
He then removed her sling and shirt, and all while being surprisingly gentle, just like he’d promised. Her vampire master then lathered up her hair with shampoo and gave it the scrub Wynter had been desperate for, and she groaned appreciatively.
Marcus went through the rest of her wash in much the same way. He seemed to know how much pressure to use and what her body needed without her having to ask, and before long she wasn’t just clean and fresh again, but also relaxed once more.
She was quickly put back in a fresh sling and he helped her into some work clothes. She almost felt like her old self again, and by the time she was ready to head down to work, had an entirely new outlook on the way her awful life had gone since returning to Slave.
Wynter knew she was just getting through each day in the hope that Jak would come and take her away again, but that didn’t mean she had to mope around in the meantime. She had rested up and now Marcus had deemed her well enough for him to feed from, so that meant she was strong enough to get back to work. And back to her old life.
She was getting stronger by the day and would find a way to escape him. With or without her noble Russian vampire coming to her aid. She didn’t need saving, or so she tried telling herself over and over again. Looking after number-one was the goal—everyone else be damned.
Three
Wynter went down to her office and ploughed through her mountain of emails before doing her usual bit with the private online message boards and web pages she was tasked with moderating, but had come to realise they basically took care of themselves. Like all the other lies Marcus had woven, her job was just another façade. No one had missed her this past couple of weeks and she had to wonder if anyone had even noticed she was gone.
She decided to go see, and headed for the basement the moment she had cleared her inbox and locked up her office behind her.
She got to the IT department a few minutes later and was buzzed inside, where she found it quiet and half-empty. She scanned around, looking for a friendly face, and then remembered that half of the team were now working from the new club. How her friend Phoebe had gone to head up the IT department there and taken a load of them with her.
It seemed odd down there without the bickering and the noise. Without the frenzy and chaos. Wynter didn’t like it. She wanted the din and the bustle and the company she had been craving during her confinement.
“Hey stranger,” she heard a gruff voice call, and turned to smile at the man she was glad to discover was still firmly in place in the bowels of the nightclub. Warren was his usual self. He was wearing a suit and tie, and looked uncomfortable as hell in the thing. Like he would be more at home in trackies and a hoodie. Wynter noticed that his beard was neater though, as though he’d had a trim, and he’d cut his hair back too. She could actually see his eyes rather than just behind his usually unruly hair.
Wynter wanted to flush with heat at seeing him. She wanted to go all giddy and flirt with him like she had before. Wanted to feel something other than just the fondness she’d undoubtedly feel towards any friendly face right now. But she didn’t. She was looking at Warren without her rose-tinted glasses and saw nothing but a man. Someone she had put her trust in, and yet he hadn’t delivered on any of his promises to take care of her in return. He hadn’t loved her when she’d needed him to and hadn’t cared enough to put himself out in the slightest.
It had all been nothing more than a kindness. A caring gesture from a nice man, but nothing more. Warren wasn’t the person she was destined to be with, no matter the promises they had made while holding each other close in that tiny room out the back two weeks previously.
Damn, had it really only been a couple of weeks? It felt like a lifetime.
Marcus had been right before. Warren was under his spell and wouldn’t ever stand up to him on her behalf. In this place and amongst everyone who was beholden to that vampire’s spell, she was truly alone.
Wow, as if she hadn’t felt bad enough already, that realisation hit her like a blow to the gut.
Wynter swallowed the lump in her throat, shook it off, and took a seat opposite Warren at his desk, where she watched as he fixed them both some coffee and then joined her. He seemed relaxed, considering today had been his overtime day too, and Wynter watched him with a frown.
“How did your fights go?” she asked, before taking a sip.
“Oh, it was okay. Women don’t punch as hard as the guys do, so it wasn’t all that bad,” he answered, but Wynter knew his defeat would’ve meant a bite or two and how he would’ve hated that part. However, Warren seemed totally at ease with himself, contrary to his usually guff demeanour. He then started harking on about how quiet it had been with everyone across town setting up the new club and that he had been cracking on with all sorts of shit from his to-do lists.
Wynter tried not to get angry as she watched him going on and on, but it was hard. A hundred thoughts were going through her head and she was getting more and more riled up. What Jak had said about her being unlovable before was forcing aside her coldness and sadness that was at the forefront of her mind. And he had been right. Warren had liked her. He might have even fancied her, but that was all. There was nothing more between them, and never had been.
He hadn’t asked after her or checked that she was okay. Warren hadn’t so much as asked where she’d been the past week and a half and Wynter wondered if he’d even noticed that she was in a sling. As Warren fell silent at last, presumably out of steam, she felt her blood boil and finished her coffee before slamming her mug down.
“Did you even realise I was gone?” she then asked her wide-eyed and so-called friend. “Did you notice? Or were you too wrapped up in your own shit to care?”
“What?” he replied and then scratched at his beard awkwardly, “you were at the new club with the others. Mr Cole told me.”
“And so you just left me to it? No quick email to let me know you were here thinking of me? No secret coded message for the woman you said you wanted to be with?” she demanded.
Warren looked dumfounded.
Wynter got the feeling he wasn’t as used to dealing with women as she’d once thought, and she found herself scowling at him in much the same way as she often did with Marcus. He was infuriatingly pathetic and she climbed to her feet, ready to leave.
“I just figured you were busy sorting out the marketing campaigns for the new club or something. Or whatever the hell it is you actually do,” he snapped, only angering Wynter more. She wanted to bite his head off, but instead she just stared at him like he was the most stupid man alive.
“If I was working, surely I would’ve answered your emails? I would’ve called to ask for your advice or just to talk to my friend. But no. I was off having so much fun I didn’t have time to stop and get in touch. That’ll be it,” she groaned before walking away without another word or a backwards glance at him.
“Wynter!” Warren tried, but she just kept on going.
She needed to get away from him, or else she knew she’d end up saying something she might regret. It was awful to realise just how wrong she’d been about him and she felt like a foo
l for having given up her freedom to save him. For a future that would never come true.
All of this had been for nothing more than a hopeless infatuation with a man who didn’t care. What an idiot she had been.
Wynter realised she’d been wrong about so many things and had made so many mistakes. All hope was lost, or so she felt, and so stalked out of the IT office and up the stairs in a daze, rather than take the lift. The world was heavy on her shoulders as she forced herself to carry on.
She wanted to hide, but then reached the ground floor and was about to carry on up to her office when the din of the music stopped her.
Wynter turned and watched as the night’s guests were ambling inside and she felt a wave of nostalgia hit her. It felt like such a long time ago that she had been one of them. That she would spend her Saturday night’s drunk and on the lookout for someone to scratch whatever sexual itch she currently had.
So much had changed in such a short amount of time. She was an entirely different person now to that girl from before, and was saddened by the realisation that those changes weren’t necessarily for the better.
She needed some air. After days and days of being cooped up, Wynter craved the cold night air in her lungs and she headed for the doorway, where she scooted through a gap in the crowd before anyone could stop her.
Once she was out in the street, she turned left to bypass the queue of punters waiting to get inside the club and walked as far as the street corner before losing her nerve.
There would be no going further. No running away. It didn’t matter how much she still wanted to be free, Marcus would never let her go. If she tried, he’d do more than just lock her upstairs for a few days. He would make her pay for defying him, and Wynter knew she still didn’t have the strength to handle that.
So instead, she just listened to the sounds of the city all around her and sucked deep breaths of crisp night air into her lungs. She could hear the trains whizzing down the tracks in the distance and some running water in the river close by. Hear the cars whizzing across the motorway a few miles away and the still awaiting socialites hollering and partying from the queue behind.
Life was moving on all around her. And without her. Wynter wanted to run, even still, but was as far as she could risk going, and yet she felt calmer already. It was just so good to have a few minutes of peace. It was nice to be out in the real world for a little while. To be in her city. Her home.
After a few minutes, she knew it was time she went back inside before she caught a chill, so she turned around, only to discover that a silent group of guardsmen had encircled her while she’d been quietly contemplating her fate.
It was Marcus’s small pack of vampire soldiers. Each one had been dressed in a black suit just like the bouncers, and yet they didn’t fit in at all. Not in the slightest. Their soulless red eyes stood out a mile away, even from behind their ridiculous sunglasses, and Wynter shuddered when she saw how they were each eyeing her like a prize they couldn't wait to claim. As if they’d been willing her to run just so they might be given the chance to hunt her down again.
She’d been right, at least. Well, she wasn’t going to give them, or their leader, the satisfaction of hunting her. Not tonight.
“Calm down, fellas,” she told them with a forced smile, “just getting some air.”
Wynter then crept forward and had hoped they might part to let her pass, but they didn’t. The biggest one simply closed in and glared down at her like he was about to strike, and she had to force herself not to freak the hell out. It was that, run, cry, or retreat, and Wynter forced herself to choose the latter. She sidestepped the huge vampire that’d already broken her bones once, and made for the club’s entrance as fast as her feet could carry her. She was almost inside when someone grabbed her wrist and spun her to face them.
“Wynter?” the culprit cried, and it took her a second to realise it hadn’t been one of the vampires, but a human. One of her friends. In fact, her best friend.
“Cossette?” she replied before hugging her as hard as she could with her out of action right side. “What are you doing here?”
“Coming for a dance of course! I was hoping I might see you, Wyn. Your phone has been going straight to voicemail for weeks. Where have you been? Someone else is living in your house too,” she reeled off, going straight for the interrogation.
There was no way of answering her honestly, so Wynter just shrugged and tried as best she could to appease her.
“Yeah I moved in with some of the guys here,” she lied, “oh, and my phone broke and I just haven’t had the time to get a new one,” she explained, skirting around the truth about how her vampire boss had trashed his office in a fit of rage, her handbag and its contents included, and yet he’d not replaced anything. Oh, and of course how he’d kept her prisoner and sold her house without her say-so. “I’m really sorry,” Wynter added, and she felt tears prick at her eyes. It was the truth. She might not be able to tell her everything, but she could give her a little.
Cossette could tell something was wrong. Wynter saw her eyes dart to the entourage behind her and her face dropped.
“What’s with the creepy hired goons? Wyn, is everything all right?” she whispered, but wasn’t convinced when Wynter simply nodded her head yes. “You call me, okay? Any time day or night. You speak to me. You can tell me anything.”
“I know,” Wynter replied, fighting back her tears. “Thank you.”
She then went to walk away, but changed her mind and turned back to Cossette, gathering her up in another tight hug. She then whispered in her ear as quietly as possible, but made sure she spoke clearly and sternly. “Don’t come back here again, Coss. Stay away from Slave and the new club. Promise me.”
Cossette tried to pull back, probably to glower at her and ask for an explanation, but Wynter wouldn’t let her. She just held her even tighter. “It isn’t safe. Promise me,” she repeated before letting go and walking away without another word, and right through the gang of soldiers who had been watching their interaction from just feet away.
***
Marcus watched Wynter via the camera system and didn’t quite know how to feel about what he’d just witnessed. She was broken and full of despair, which of course he loved, but there was still something that wasn’t right about her. Something was off and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He wanted to know what was said between her and that woman, who he knew was her best friend Cossette. Wynter still needed teaching, and Marcus wasn’t against forcing an answer out of his dear, darling girl.
He reached out to his soldiers with his mind, connecting with the alpha of their group a second later, and relayed the vampire a message. An order for them to bring Wynter to him without delay, whether she wanted to or not, and then he watched on the screen as he nodded in answer.
Marcus then saw as Wynter charged her way through the crowds and away from his team of overseers and he stiffened, urging for them to hurry the hell up and catch her. His worries were unwarranted though, and a few seconds later he could see that not only had she ducked straight into the awaiting elevator, but that she was also on her way up to him without the need for strong arming.
He closed the surveillance system down on his screen and switched to one of the spreadsheets he had been working on earlier. He wanted to look busy for when Wynter arrived, but then got a better offer when the phone on his desk rang.
“Yes?” he barked into it.
“Mr Cole, I have an urgent call from Dieter in the Berlin club. Do you have a moment?” Bryn’s voice came through the speaker, and Marcus grinned.
“Of course,” he answered, and the call was put through just as Wynter stepped out of the lift and took a few hesitant steps inside the office. Marcus could tell she’d heard him on the phone and didn’t want to intrude, but he wanted her to, and ushered her over with a wave of his hand. “Shön abend, Dieter. Alles klar?” he greeted his German employee and the supervisor of his Berlin club, and Wynter crept closer
as Dieter began running through some issue they were having with the local business owners in the same area. It was politics and a case of keeping the peace, but Marcus decided not to fob Dieter off with a snappy answer. He instead kept the man talking, and didn’t take his eyes off Wynter for even a second as she reached his side and stood there awkwardly. He adored how she didn’t know what to do with herself and found himself wanting to hold her.
Succumbing to his instincts, he opened his arms wide, inviting her into his personal space regardless of them being in work hours.
In spite of herself, Wynter climbed directly into his lap and she curled into his hold like a child. She was exhausted and clearly in a tizzy, but she was here, and had come of her own accord.
Marcus grinned and carried on conversing with his Berlin office, but he wasn’t really concentrating on what Dieter was saying. All he could think about was Wynter. He was enveloped by her scent and detected fear and sadness in her, but also some kind of strength of will, like she’d made a decision regarding something and felt good about it. Marcus wanted to know what it was, but told himself not to rush. She would tell him, or he would find out himself. Either way, he wanted to just enjoy the fact she’d come to him willingly and not overthink her reasons why.
He continued on with his conversation, and all the while Wynter was gripping his shirt between the lithe fingers of her left hand, holding him closer. Anyone else and he might have found their neediness pathetic, but not her. All he truly wanted now was for her to grow irrevocably attached to him. To need him more than anyone else. Then he’d be happy, or at least that was what Marcus told himself as he held her back and rubbed his hand over her back and thigh.
Made of Scars Page 3