Captive Heart (Club Risque Book 6)

by Poppy Flynn

  Despite his reluctance, he instinctively knew that the benefit of Melody's mental acceptance of him as her new master would be two-fold, and that was one small comfort at least. Not only would it break her link with her previously abusive master all the quicker, but it would mean that she'd be predisposed to automatically answer all of the very many questions that he had.

  Of course, the downside was that he would have to work that little bit harder to break her of that new dependence, but that was something he realised she was going to struggle with regardless. Besides, he intended to be very careful of how much of that he engendered in the first instance, so there was hope, at least, for a positive outcome.

  He took a deep breath and quieted his noisy mind. There was no time like the present to get things started. Hopefully, some clarity in the information department would also bring some peace of mind to his many misgivings.

  "Okay, what was the name of your…" Damn, he didn't want to refer to her abuser as her master. "…of the person you used to live with?"

  "My master?" she queried in obvious confusion.

  Against his moral conviction, Micah decided to use her dependence to his advantage, at least in this small instance. "I am your master now, remember. We will need to find another way to refer to him, so what was his name?

  Melody looked blank then fearful. "I don't know," she whispered. "Please don't beat me. I'm not being difficult; I really don't know!"

  "Hey, hey, hey! There will be no beating going on, Melody. Everything I am asking you about is so that I can get a picture of what has been going on in your life, in order to help you move forward. There are no right and wrong answers here, sweetheart, only information. Understand?"

  "Only information," Melody repeated, nodding. Then she whispered it again under her breath as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact, "Only information."

  "That's right, and any little bit of information you give me will help me understand things better, so it's fine that you don't know, or you don't remember, but there might be something seemingly insignificant that may help us put the pieces together. Kind of like doing a jigsaw. There could be clues hidden in something you do know that may help us find out something we don't know."

  He gave her a moment to digest everything that he had told her before he continued. "So, while you think you don't know his name, there might be a sliver of a memory perhaps, when you heard someone call him or saw a letter or a delivery, something like that. I'm not going to pressure you with it right now, just keep it in mind.

  "I can do that," she murmured cautiously, nodding her head.

  "Okay, so what about where you lived? Do you know the address?" He didn't hold out much hope of that if she didn't even know the man's name, but she had managed to get here somehow, so it might not be a complete bust.

  Her lip wobbled a bit as she looked up at him with striking violet coloured eyes full of sadness. "I don't know that, either," she confirmed with a tiny quiver in her voice.

  "Don't worry," he told her comfortingly. "The same applies as before, just think it over to see if we can come up with some clues."

  "But I don't want to go back there," she suddenly shrieked, misunderstanding his interest. "You said I could stay here; you said you would be my master and that I could keep my name! Please don't send me back. He'll surely kill me this time!" Her voice rose shrilly with every word she sobbed out and she started shaking uncontrollably.

  Her words sent an ominous chill down Micah's spine. If he hadn't been certain about her incarceration before, then he was becoming more so by the minute.

  "Melody!" He laced his voice with dominant command but kept the pitch low. "Calm down!" he directed firmly. "Just information, remember? I am not going to send you back, I promise, but I do need you to tell me everything you can."

  "Just information, just information, just information…" she whispered it over and over, under her breath, as she rocked back and forth.

  Micah rubbed his hands over his face. God! He was completely out of his depth here. He had given up his lucrative and wildly successful psychology practice because his compassion and empathy were too profound and ran too deep. He felt too intensely, became too involved and too invested in the outcomes.

  He wasn't a vain man, but he was aware that he had attracted many women to his practice because of his good looks and muscled build. Superficial things which shouldn't have been important. But these were women who were already damaged to some extent or another, and too many of them had ended up projecting their affections on a handsome face, an attentive ear, and a willingness to help. Some of it was a part of their initial affliction, some of it was what they perceived as his interest, because he genuinely listened and tried to support them.

  He had ended up feeling as if he helped no one when the weight of their expectations skated too close to a personal and unprofessional interest which he had to extract himself from.

  In the end, it had caused him too much pressure and frustration, too much heartache.

  And Sara's death, even though she had never been his patient, had been the very last straw. Joel, Jake, Logan, and Connor thought they had lured him away with their ludicrously generous offer to become manager of Club Risqué, but, in fact, it had been his salvation.

  Now, here he was again, with a woman much more damaged than many he had seen. One who identified as a slave, just as Sara had done, and who also wanted him as the master he didn't wish to be.

  And on top of it all, Micah knew he was in danger of being sucked in far beyond where he was comfortable, out of some kind of misplaced sense of guilt over his ex and his own innate need and dedication toward championing the healthy mind and supporting his fellow souls in fulfilling their potential in life as the best version of themselves that they could be.

  But no matter what the cost to his own psyche, there was no way he could turn his back on Melody. It went against everything he believed in, and he knew with certainty, although it had not yet been verbally established, that she had no one else to rely on.

  Sighing, he did his best to push aside his doubts and reservations, so he could concentrate on the woman who needed him.

  "Let's try this in more general terms, shall we?" he asked gently. "Why don't you tell me the things that have happened in your life and I'll ask a few questions when I need to clarify a certain point? What do you think?"

  "Of course, Master," she agreed readily.

  Micah closed his eyes and sucked in a quiet breath. "Micah," he reminded her once more.

  "I don't know where to start, Ma…Micah," she replied, worrying at her chapped and split lips with her teeth until he couldn't help but to lean forward and press his thumb against her chin in order that she release it before any more damage was done.

  The touch was brief, but he couldn't help but notice the confusion in Melody's eyes, as if such gentleness and consideration were completely foreign to her and she didn't know quite how to react to it.

  "Start at the beginning," Micah encouraged, fighting his instinctive urge to show her what a little affection might feel like. Jesus! What was wrong with him? The last thing the poor woman needed was him slobbering all over her, but, somehow, he just couldn't shake the idea that he'd like to show her a softer side of life.

  He shook himself impatiently. He needed to get with the programme! "Tell me about your childhood, your family, a history of your life, finishing with how you got here."

  Melody took a deep breath and looked away, frowning slightly before she started to speak.

  "My parents died when I was young," she began, hesitantly at first. "I hardly remember it all. I think I was seven…or maybe nine. I didn't have any brothers or sisters."

  Her expression took on a far-away look as if she was physically looking back on her past and seeing it in her mind's eye.

  "There were a couple of foster homes when I was younger. They were okay, not great, but not bad, either. The last couple I was placed with got divorced, so I ended
up finishing my supervision in a children's home." She started to speak with more confidence as she began to relax.

  "As soon as I came of age, I knew I was going to be on my own. There wasn't a lot of help. I was just expected to move out and get on with my life. But there was a man…" She paused for a while, but Micah could tell from her body language that this was not the same monster she had run away from.

  "I used to see him around, outside, near the home, and one day, he approached me. I knew I wasn't the first; he'd spoken to some of the other girls and they thought he was a bit creepy, but he was nice, actually."

  Micah held his breath as well as his tongue, concerned with the seemingly predatory nature of the events she was describing, but she had become more comfortable now and he didn't want to jeopardise that by interrupting. Not just yet, anyway, even though he was making a mental note of all the new questions that were now teeming in his head.

  "Anyway, he explained that he wanted a companion. That he wanted to be the daddy I didn't have and that if I went to live with him, then he would look after me."

  Melody let out a deep sigh and looked at him finally, a hint of defiance, the first real glimpse he had seen, in her eyes. "I wasn't stupid. I knew he didn't really mean that kind of daddy, and I knew it would include sex, but I was okay with that. I was glad to have somewhere to go. Too many of the kids I grew up with ended up living on the streets, working as hookers or doing drugs…both. Daddy was a step up from all that, as far as I was concerned."

  Micah tried hard to keep his true feelings to himself. She may have consented, but it didn't change the fact that someone had deliberately targeted a vulnerable young woman, hell, a girl still, really—at a critical time in her life—and taken advantage of the situation for his own dubious benefit.

  "It's okay, Melody. You had a choice, and you made the one you thought best," he agreed begrudgingly. There was no point in chastising her for her decisions and perhaps it really had been the best one at that time. Micah was well aware of the pitfalls facing kids coming out of the foster care system. At least she didn't appear to have been forced, and there were no subtle indications coming from her expressing that she regretted the decision.

  "I do know it could have been dangerous and that he was in it for himself," she admitted as if she had read his thoughts. "But I didn't get a bad vibe from him, he was just kind of…sad. You know, unhappy sad. Like he really wanted to take care of someone and wanted someone to take care of him, too."

  Lonely, Micah substituted in his own head, but he was glad Melody seemed to have considered the situation and at least weighed the pros and cons before she had dived headfirst into what could have been a nightmare scenario…except that there was still that possibility. Something had gone wrong somewhere, after all, and he still didn't have the whole story.

  "Actually, it was all okay. Better than I expected, really. Daddy had a nice house. Big. I even had my own room, although it was kind of decorated for a kid, but I didn't mind that. It was part of the deal, you know?" Melody picked at the hem of the blanket with her fingers, once again looking back into her mind's eye. "He bought me clothes, and even though I didn't get to choose them and they were mostly a bit childish, they were always suitable for the weather. I had plenty to eat, even if I did have to be fed by someone else, and when Daddy spanked me, it didn't really hurt that much…in fact, I kind of like…umm, well… It wasn't a problem."

  She was about to say she'd liked being spanked, he realised, and had then gotten embarrassed, but that was something he'd have to address another time. They both needed to keep on track right now. He knew, without being told, that they were coming to the crucial time when everything had changed for Melody.

  "And I wasn't locked in or anything, either, though I didn't usually go out without Daddy."

  A tremor vibrated through her slight frame, and Micah knew things were about to turn nasty.

  "A man started coming around. He and Daddy argued a lot. I don't really know what about, because Daddy sent me out when he was there, and I was happy to go because I knew he was a bad man. I just knew!"

  Melody had started to tense incrementally, and now she had become so stiff that she was literally forcing the words from between her clenched teeth.

  "Then, one day, I think they must have had a fight, because I could hear bangs and crashes and the sound of things breaking and smashing. Daddy had locked me in my room, which he never, ever did. Not even when I was naughty. But that time, he did, and when it finally went quiet and I thought he was coming to get me, the door rattled, and someone pounded and hammered on it and I knew it wasn't Daddy."

  Her voice had become quiet and strained and her breath was coming in short, sharp pants, but Micah knew that if he stopped her now, it would be twice as hard for her to relive it for a second time, so he kept quiet and offered a hand in support. He turned his palm up in front of her so that it was hers to take if she so chose.

  And choose, she did. Micah was unprepared for the way she grabbed at his hand and squeezed, hanging on as if he were some kind of lifeline, and as he closed his fingers around hers, he could feel the intensity of the quakes that were wracking her frail body.

  "He started to s-smash the door." Her voice quivered, and the words were stammered, but Micah could feel her resolve as if it were a living thing and knew she was determined to get it all out, no matter what. He couldn't help but admire the force of her will, and in those moments, he knew she had the strength to come through this. She had found her way here, after all, and that had taken willpower and resilience.

  "He b-broke the door down," she whispered, clutching the blanket around her in one hand like it was some kind of protection while gripping Micah's fingers with a feral intensity in the other.

  "I t-tried to run from him…to hide, but he caught me and dragged me out."

  She trembled uncontrollably, her eyes wide and dilated with a faraway stare, and Micah knew she was reliving the scene as it played out in the cinema of her mind.

  "I don't know where Daddy was. I didn't hear him or see him. He didn't come to help me, and I'm sure he would have if he could. I think the man hurt him, but he never came for me. I never saw him again," she finished in a mournful whisper, and Micah knew that whatever guise their relationship had taken, Melody had been genuinely fond of the man she called Daddy.

  Micah wasn't sure if Melody was going to continue after that. She was quiet for a long time and completely still, lost in the memories inside her head that only she could see. Her grip on his hand had relaxed, so he disentangled himself and checked the water for her feet.

  It was that which seemed to bring her around, as if she had started to think about them for the first time in a long while.

  She groaned, pained. "They hurt even more now."

  "I'm sorry to say that they will," Micah confirmed as he handed her more water and encouraged her to drink. "The doctor said the pain would get worse as you started to get the feeling back. Believe it or not, that's a good thing, but I can give you some painkillers if you like."

  Melody shook her head. "Not yet, it's bearable at the moment."

  If he were to hazard a guess, Micah imagined that she probably had a rather high pain threshold, although whether or not she was inherently masochistic or had just been moulded that way remained to be seen.

  He was almost surprised when she resumed her story. He had expected that it might be too much for her, but she proved her innate, quiet strength yet again.

  "He beat me for the first time as soon as we got back to the house where he kept me."

  Her voice was no longer trembling but now had a kind of detached quality to it, devoid of any kind of emotion, as if she was describing things that had happened to someone else, and he knew that was her way of dealing with what had happened to her.

  "He told me I was being punished for Daddy's crimes, but he didn't tell me what they were. I don't think he meant actual crimes, just whatever it was that he had a problem with. A
fter that first whipping, I was bloody and almost unconscious. He shoved me in a tiny cage for hours. A whole day and a whole night, I think. It was a basement, so it was hard to tell, and I wasn't completely with it for a while, but there was a little bit of light that came through the boards covering a tiny, narrow window, like cellars sometimes have, and it was light and then dark and then light again through that little bit of a crack. He didn't let me out at all. Not to feed me or let me use the bathroom or even to see if I was still alive. The cage was so small that the wire dug into all the places that already hurt and I couldn't move around at all to change position. For a while, I thought he was going to leave me there to starve to death and die…sometimes I wished he had."

  A chill went through Micah at the matter of fact way she said it with no inflection at all in her words, like it didn't really matter, either way, and he had to mentally block out the images of Sara and her bruised and lifeless body as memories came flooding back to him with Melody's inadvertent rousing of his own demons.

  "There's some time I don't really remember at all. Just hazy images of…of…" She faltered for the first time, her face turning as white as the snow that had started falling outside. "…of really horrible, evil things he did to me, that he made me do." Her voice was almost too quiet for him to hear, not even a whisper, just a wisp of breath that didn't want the dreadful episodes she had endured to be heard, in case it made them real again.

  "He forced me and beat me and did things that no human should do to another, and when I passed out, he just waited until I was awake before he did them all over again. Maybe sometimes he didn't even wait for that, but at least then, I didn't know about it…but he liked me to know. He liked to hear me scream."

  She was quiet again, and Micah started to think she was finished. When he heard what she had to say next, he wished that she were.