Enslaved (The Inbetween Novels)

by R. C. Murphy

  Dare he step into the light and face her wrath? Deryck couldn’t decide which path was better; to slink off into the night and leave Shayla be, or admit his mistake and attempt to repair the damage done by Herryk’s interference.

  Shayla bent down and scooped up a handful of pebbles from the side of the creek. One by one, she pitched them into the slow-moving water. Her movements were sharp, angry.

  “My mistake for even thinking I could trust someone again.”

  Her words hit like a knife to his lungs. Deryck felt shame down to his marrow and knew he needed to fix this somehow. Nothing that’d happened was her fault. She deserved to know, even if she never wanted to see him again after he apologized.

  Deryck stepped out from behind the trees onto the path. He intentionally kicked a couple pebbles loose from the dirt to draw her attention. Shayla spun around to face him. Her face was a blank mask. He couldn’t tell if she was surprised or furious. Gods, what he’d give to have more experience with this sort of thing. He only ever had to deal with happy, horny women. Never before had he faced down an upset woman. It scared the piss out of him.

  He made the first move and took a step toward her. “I’m sorry, Shayla.”

  She scooped up her shoes by the straps, never taking her eyes off him. “It’s fine. You don’t owe me an apology.”

  Deryck stopped in his tracks. “Yes, I do. A family crisis came up and I couldn’t make it to the restaurant on time.”

  “And you just happened to misplace your phone, too?”

  Feeling his lies closing in around him, Deryck decided to tell as much of the truth as possible without freaking her out. “Honestly? I just got this phone and I’m not used to it. Apparently this model has a really bad battery and dies if you don’t charge it frequently.” He reached into his pocket and sent a jolt of power into the cell phone to kill it. Pulling the phone free, he made a show of trying to turn it on and turned the black screen for her to see.

  “Oh. I see.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your night.” He gestured to her dress. It caressed her skin in just the right way to make her irresistible. May the gods bless whoever created the garment. “You look beautiful.”

  Shayla laughed and stepped away. Her knees wobbled a little. “I look drunk and desperate. So desperate I’m almost buying what you’re selling.” She paused. “How did you know I was here?”

  Shit. Deryck had transported straight to her. He didn’t want to waste another moment of what was supposed to be their date. “I asked someone at the restaurant after I realized you weren’t there. They said you walked this way.”

  “You didn’t need to track me down to explain how you lost interest.”

  Shayla turned her back on him and walked down the narrow dirt path. She carefully stepped around the stones and sticks in her way and yet somehow managed to make a hasty retreat.

  Cursing under his breath, Deryck caught up to her. He stepped to her side and walked backwards, keeping pace with her determined strides. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Shayla, I’m trying to make up for being an asshole. Tell me how I can fix this.”

  Her vibrant green eyes fixed on him. Deryck felt miniscule under her gaze—unworthy of Shayla’s attention. After several heartbeats, she broke the silence. “Buy me some coffee. It won’t make up for not calling to tell me you’ll be this late, but it’s a start.”

  Relieved she’d given him a way to start the apology, Deryck turned to walk by her side. They took the path to the edge of the park, back to the street with the restaurant.

  Shayla stopped at the sidewalk to put her shoes on. She lost her balance. Deryck caught her by the arm and led her over to a bench. He knelt down and carefully strapped on her heeled shoes. Her feet were so tiny in comparison to his.

  “Are you okay to walk in those shoes?” Deryck secured the final buckle on Shayla’s shoe.

  She stared at him. The way he touched her, so gently she hardly believed he held any interest in her at all. But the look in his eyes when he stood and offered her a hand off the bench said differently. Good lord, I really did have too much wine tonight.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Deryck smiled and looked down the street in both directions. “I’m not from around here; you’re going to have to tell me where to go.”

  Shayla perked. “There’s a twenty-four-seven doughnut shop a couple blocks over that makes the world’s best iced coffee drinks and doughnuts you’d sell your soul for.”

  He laughed and swept an arm toward the sidewalk. “Lead the way. I’m at your mercy tonight. It is the least I can do.”

  She tucked her arm around his and walked south to the stoplight. “Careful, if you say that to too many women, they’ll use you as a sex slave.” Deryck’s arm stiffened under her hand. Shayla patted his bicep. “Don’t worry, I’m mostly harmless.”

  Deryck pressed the button for the crosswalk signal. The green light from the stoplight reflected off his golden brown eyes and for a second he looked nearly demonic. Oh yeah, way too much wine.

  They crossed the street and walked east past what was once downtown. Old office buildings lined the street. Almost all of them had been converted to small, family-owned shops of some sort. The top floors of a lot of the buildings were low-rent loft apartments, the kind wanna-be artists loved to live in and complain about the rodents, crumbling brick walls, and bad plumbing. Faye lived in one of them during college, back when she thought she could make a living selling native jewelry and art. That phase lasted up until she graduated and realized a degree in history didn’t get a person very far in life.

  “How far?” Deryck’s question startled her. She was way too comfortable walking arm-in-arm with him.

  “Take a left at the stop sign. It’s the fourth shop down with a green and blue canopy over the door.”

  He chuckled. “I take it you come here often.”

  “A friend lived in the area a few years back. When we wanted company during all-nighters, we’d head over here to study.”

  “Sounds like a good time.” Deryck led them around the corner.

  “Oh yeah, caffeine over-dose and a sugar high are totally healthy.” Shayla shook her head. “I’m seriously regretting how poorly we ate during college.”

  Deryck shook his head. “Never regret anything you’ve done that brought you joy.”

  Shayla slid a look at him, but didn’t comment. They walked down the block in silence. Several other couples passed by. The women gave Deryck long, lust-filled looks. She cringed, feeling like an ugly boil attached to his arm. It was hard not to fill in the other women’s thoughts.

  He’s so sweet, taking the charity case out for a date.

  Look at him, sacrificing himself to make the whale feel wanted.

  What the hell is a guy like that doing with her?

  She dropped her head and ignored everyone and everything. Obviously there was no bright spot to her evening aside from the prospect of a Bavarian cream-filled doughnut. Even that brought on a pang of guilt over the calories she was about to add to her piss-poor diet.

  At least by the end of the night, Deryck should feel like he’s apologized for somewhat stalking her.

  “Is this the place?” He stopped outside a narrow storefront.

  Shayla didn’t bother looking up. The smell of frying dough and dark roast coffee wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. The tension in her shoulder eased. “Yeah, this is the place. Be prepared to have your life changed by these doughnuts.”

  Deryck opened the door for her. Slightly surprised, she walked inside and inhaled deeply. That smell is almost as good as sex.

  “You should do the ordering. Get anything you want.”

  They walked up to the counter. A middle-aged Korean woman popped her head out of the kitchen. Her smile was so bright, Shayla couldn’t help but return it. “Long time, no see. I thought you’d forgotten about us, Shayla.”

  “Like anyone could forget this place, Pearl.�
� Shayla leaned over the display case. “Give me two of the Bavarian, two apple strudels, and two iced mochas.”

  “Whipped cream?” Pearl asked and bagged up the doughnuts.

  “Did you really just ask that? Of course. Spare no calories tonight.” Shayla cringed. She nearly forgot the reason for her binge stood right behind her, silently watching everything she did.

  Pearl gave Deryck an once-over and turned around to make their drinks.

  He leaned his hip on the weathered wood counter. “You knew what you wanted before we even hit the block, didn’t you?”

  Heat rushed up Shayla’s cheeks. “Maybe. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  “Nothing wrong with indulging in things that remind you of better times.” A look crossed his face. She couldn’t quite place it. Wistful, maybe?

  “I try not to, but lately I’ve been diving head-first into old comfort foods.” Shayla mentally smacked herself. It sounded like she was blaming him for falling off the diet wagon.

  Pearl slid their drinks across the counter. “Fifteen-fifty. I threw in some doughnut holes, too. Powdered, of course.”

  Shayla picked a chocolate curl off the top of her mocha. “You’re the best, Pearl.”

  Deryck handed over a twenty. “Keep the change. Thank you.” He grabbed the bag of doughnuts; completely oblivious to the look Pearl gave him.

  “No, thank you.” Pearl put the cash in the register. “Don’t be strangers.”

  Shayla gave the smaller woman a quick hug over the counter and grabbed their drinks. Deryck held the door for her again—damn she wouldn’t get used to that. They found a table from the deli next door to the doughnut shop and sat down.

  “I considered going back to the park for a better view to enjoy our treat in, but I didn’t think you’d make the walk in those shoes.” Deryck tore open the paper bag and made a makeshift placemat for their doughnuts.

  Shayla took a sip of her mocha and arched a brow. “That’s awfully considerate of you. If I had known I’d end up hiking so far, I would have picked different shoes.”

  Deryck shook his head. “I am so sorry things did not turn out as you’d planned, Shayla.”

  She picked up a Bavarian cream doughnut. “You know what? This isn’t a half-bad date after all.”

  He grinned. “So we’re still on a date?”

  “You haven’t tried to grab my ass or ogle other women; that counts in your favor.” Shayla bit into her doughnut and fought not to moan.

  Deryck followed her lead. He didn’t bother to hide his pleasure and moaned around his first bite. “This is the food of the gods.”

  She nodded. “I told you, you won’t be the same after tonight.” Licking her fingers, she leaned back in her chair. “So, what do you do for a living?”

  He paused mid-bite. Dark brows drew down over his eyes. Trepidation crept into Shayla’s mind. She had a feeling he was about to admit he really was a drug dealer or something equally terrifying.

  “You’re going to laugh.” Deryck said at last.

  “Try me.” Shayla gave herself bonus points for keeping her voice calm.

  He gave a sheepish look. “I’m a model. Mostly for store catalogues, I haven’t done anything big yet.”

  Shayla blinked at him. “A model?”

  “It pays the bills, as they say. Can’t say I’m thrilled to make my living being stared at, but we have to use what we’ve been given to make a living.” He cleared his throat. “Your turn. I know where you work, but what exactly do you do there?”

  “I’m an office aid at a PR firm. Basically, that means I file long, boring reports for people who don’t want to do them, or claim they don’t have time to do them. I also do tech support, even though we have a tech support team. Oh, and apparently I’m the only person in the office intelligent enough to replace the toner in the copy machines. I’ve been there four years and have the paper cut scars to prove it.” Shayla held up her hands and showed off the latest paper cut on her knuckles. “It’s mind-numbing work, but I’m good at it. And, like you said, we have to use what we’re given to pay the bills. My mortgage won’t pay itself.”

  Shayla paused and dropped her head. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

  Deryck tapped the table. She frowned and looked up. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Apologize for being interesting.”

  Shayla shook her head. “I’m so not.”

  “Whoever told you that is a liar, Shayla. You are a strong woman and you’ve made your way in the world with more skill than anyone else I’ve met. Where I’m from, some women see independence as a curse. It isn’t.”

  She stared, silenced by Deryck’s utter faith in her. Faith she hadn’t earned at all. He hardly knew her. She’d ragged at him when he tried to apologize for being late. And the icing on the cake, she’d tried to drown her misery in white wine and chocolate. Yet, he saw past it.

  Shayla shook her head in disbelief. “Where are you from?”

  “Egypt.” Deryck spilt one of the apple strudels in half and gave her the larger piece. “And before you ask, it isn’t nearly as cool as it seems. Life is very difficult there if you aren’t privileged.”

  “I guess life is hard everywhere.” She ate her half of the strudel. Her stomach threw up a white flag when she eyeballed the second one left on the open bag. “You can have that one. I’m stuffed.”

  Shayla looked up at the stars. They were harder to see this far into the city. In her backyard, she could see them clearly. There were benefits to living on the outskirts of a city, aside from being able to pretend she had some privacy.

  She was glad the wine started to back off. The coffee and snack helped a lot. So did Deryck’s presence. He was the epitome of calm to balance the chaos normally running rampant in her mind. If Shayla could bottle his sense of self and sell it, she’d be the richest woman to ever live.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. When Shayla stole a glance at Deryck, he’d slumped in his seat and leaned his head against the back to look at the stars shimmering above them through the bright city lights. She couldn’t help but smile at how handsome he looked with his dark shaggy hair spilling across the chair. No wonder he modeled for a living—the man made relaxing look like pure sex.

  Deryck rolled his head down. Golden eyes met hers and he smiled. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  Shayla looked away, afraid she’d do something stupid under his intense gaze. “It’s getting late and I have work tomorrow. I should get going. I’m sorry, Deryck.”

  He stood, and for the first time, she really appreciated how tall he was. “No apologies. The time we had together tonight was very enjoyable. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “I left it at the restaurant.” Shayla didn’t dare explain she’d been too tipsy to drive herself home. Why ruin a good moment?

  They threw their trash away and headed back the way they’d come. Shayla watched Deryck obviously enjoying the old architecture they passed and wished she still felt that sense of wonder about her hometown.

  She’d lived there almost her entire life, save for the stint with Cyrus. He’d bullied her into moving away from everyone she knew. Said a new town and a new home would give her the opportunity to live and make a name for herself. What he should have said was it gave him complete control over her life. She had no one. Nothing. He owned their house, their car. His name was on all of the bills and he only let her out of the house to do temp jobs when he’d spent their mortgage money on god-knows-what.

  A sudden tight grip on her arm forced Shayla to focus on where she was going. Deryck gave her a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

  Shayla looked around. They’d made it back to the street where she’d left her car. A truck barreled past. She’d nearly walked in front of it. Deryck saved her from becoming road kill.

  “I’m fine. Just tired.” Her sob story would stay a secret, so help her God. Faye and her mother were the only people who knew the truth. It’d re
main that way so long as she drew breath.

  “Will you be okay to drive?” Deryck waited for traffic to clear and lead her across a narrow side street to the parking lot beside The Midnight Grill.

  Shayla nodded and dug through her purse for her keys. How such a tiny purse could eat things, she had no clue, but every time she used it, her keys pulled a Houdini.

  Cursing under her breath, she dropped her purse onto the trunk of her car and pulled everything out. “Oh come on, I know you’re in here.”

  Deryck watched. “You have bad luck with bags. Have you ever considered pockets?”

  Shayla’s head snapped up. Deryck grinned and picked something up from the pile of crap she’d dug out of her purse—the car keys, tangled in a web of hair ties. She dropped her head and laughed. “Of course. I don’t always have such bad luck with my purses. You just happened to catch me while the accessory mojo was in retrograde, or whatever excuse people use when stuff won’t stop going wrong.”

  He slid the keys into her hand and pressed her fingers around them gently. “I am sorry for my part in your hectic week.”

  She waited for Deryck to use his smooth-talk to con her out of a kiss. Instead, he backed away a little and waited for her to repack her purse and unlock the car. Shayla felt oddly relieved when he didn’t pressure her like most men would at the end of a date. Part of her wanted him to push just a little. She mentally slapped the needy voice in her mind. Physical attention from a man, even a model-gorgeous one, didn’t equate real feelings.

  Still, she wouldn’t mind seeing what evil he could wreak other than nice words with that mouth of his.

  Shayla blushed at the turn in her thoughts and was glad for the dim light in the parking lot. “Stop apologizing, Deryck. Everything worked out for the best in the end, really.”

  Deryck gently pulled her hand off the door handle and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “I would still like the chance to take you on a proper date. Call me when you’re ready to try this again.”