by Liz Crowe
*****
I lost track of how long I sat there motionless—not daring to even adjust to reestablish circulation to my feet. By the time Kirk allowed me to stand again, my legs would barely move. Sharp pain shot from my knees to my toes as I tried to shake off the numbness.
He packed up some papers and slid his phone into his pocket. I already missed real clothes so bad that I felt a pang of envy that he even had pockets.
“I have a lot of stuff to take care of today, so I’ll be gone for a while and I can’t leave you tied to the bed all day.”
My heart thumped, but I didn’t think I should latch on to the glimmer of hope. There was no way he was going to leave me in the apartment, even if I didn’t have a key to unlock the front door.
He grabbed the leash from the doorknob where he’d left it the night before and my mouth dropped open. I was bombarded with the scenarios and questions that clattered through my mind.
Kirk crooked his finger at me. “You’ll be safe.”
Everything down to my core shuddered. “Kirk—”
With that, his calm gaze clouded. He flipped me around, pressing me into the wall. His wide blue eyes bore into mine. I blinked and struggled to against the reluctance of my tongue. “Sorry… Master.” I forced the word out of my mouth just to appease him, even if only for a moment, but his glare didn’t melt.
“Just because I’ve tolerated your voice this morning doesn’t mean you can pop off whenever you want.” He leaned in, crushing me against the wall. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“It’s been one day,” I whispered, terrified of setting him off again, “I don’t want to die, but I can’t change everything about myself overnight. Please.”
“That’s not my problem. I don’t care how you do it, or how you feel. Shut up and do what you’re told.”
I took a deep breath, habit wanted me to argue, but I nodded. It wasn’t easy to hold my tongue and behave when I was uncertain of my future. I wanted to know that by complying I’d be safe. That I’d be taken care of, but all I got is that I wouldn’t be dead. It wasn’t the most comforting reassurance.
He clicked the chain to my collar and I started to drop to my knees, but he kept ahold of my elbow.
“You can walk,” he growled, “Stay behind me and keep your head down.”
I wanted to cry again. Not because I was scared—because I felt overwhelmed and confused. I didn’t know what to do and it felt like every time I tried to do something right, it just made him angrier. All of my emotions wanted to pour out all at once and I didn’t know how to pull it back.
Kirk tugged at the chain and opened the door. I fisted my hands at my sides and followed him down the hall to the elevator. My knees shook under me. I was afraid of screwing up, afraid of Gabe or one of his men seeing me. I wanted to wrap my arms around myself, but figured that wouldn’t go well. At the edge of my vision, I saw Kirk look back as we stood in the elevator.
“No one will touch you,” he promised, “Gabe and his crew aren’t in this part of the building.”
I had to give it to the asshole, he was intuitive.
We only went down one floor, and when we stepped off the elevator, it looked exactly like the floor we’d just left. He led me to the third door and knocked.
I ducked behind him as soon as the door opened. Miles—I wanted to fall to my knees and beg Kirk not to leave me. It was almost like the first day of kindergarten, except at least this time I had a reason to be petrified.
Please, don’t be leaving me here.
Just beyond Miles, I saw the blonde girl who had accompanied him to dinner. She was wearing a cropped T-shirt and short track shorts, and had her legs propped up on the arm of the couch as she painted her toenails.
“Sure you’re up for this?” Kirk asked. Unfortunately, he wasn’t talking to me—and even if he were, my honest response wouldn’t have been acceptable.
Miles was all legs and muscle. He stood at least six inches taller than Kirk, his chestnut skin stretched tight over muscles that made almost every other man here look scrawny by comparison. “I can handle her for a few hours.”
My throat felt like it would swell shut when Kirk dropped the end of my leash and pressed me toward the door. I took one reluctant step after another, waiting for Miles to reach out and grab me like a venus flytrap.
Instead, he stepped out of the way and let me enter without moving to touch me. I glanced back at Kirk before the door closed, hoping he’d offer some kind of comfort, advice, acknowledgment—anything.
His chest filled slowly and he held his breath for a second. “Sorry, she’s not exactly housebroken, yet. Take it easy on her.”
“She’ll be fine. I’ll turn Alley lose on her and they can talk all the girly stuff I don’t want to hear.”
Kirk smirked. “You really sure you want to do that?”
“I’ll lock them in the bedroom. Go on, get to your meeting. I can handle two little slaves.”
I wrapped my arms around myself as the door closed. I suddenly wanted to run after Kirk and beg him not to leave me. The blonde was now leaning over the back of the couch, and Miles petted her head as he passed. Much like I’d seen Ross do with the girl in his office.
The memory churned my stomach.
“Both of you, come here.” The blonde jumped up and walked to the back of the couch to kneel in front of Miles, so I followed suit.
“Either of you causes trouble, you both suffer the punishment.” He gave each of us a long look, but he paused on me noticeably longer. Now I really felt like I was back in kindergarten, or being chastised by my best friend’s mother the first time she let us play unsupervised after we’d let a frog loose in the bathroom.
“Yes, Master,” the blonde said.
“Yes, uh—” I assumed that Kirk was the only one I was to refer to as Master, but then I wasn’t exactly given a handbook or a list of titles.
“Sir, works fine for you,” Miles said. Between his deep voice and intimidating physique, I was terrified of simply looking at him the wrong way. I’d already experienced his strength firsthand, but now he seemed laid back and slightly amused at my awkwardness.
“Yes, Sir.”
I held my breath as he unclasped the chain that hung from my collar. “Kirk didn’t tell you where he was bringing you, did he?”
“No, Sir.” Luckily. If he had, I probably would have gotten into a lot more trouble along the way.
Miles laughed then flicked his hand at us. “Go on, Alley, try to keep our guest entertained and out of trouble.”
She jumped to her feet, but I was much more cautious in my movements, trying to watch both her and Miles as she towed me into the bedroom. My feet felt heavier with each step. Nothing in this place ever made sense. The man who’d slammed me into a wall and felt me up the day before was now… civil. More than civil, he was jovial and almost pleasant.
In the bedroom, a mahogany dressing table and a matching dresser sat in one corner of the room.
“Silver, right?” Alley asked, pulling out the bench.
I nodded as she grabbed my shoulders and directed me to the bench.
“I’m Alley—spelled like the road, not the nickname. Where are you from?” she patted the bench, for me to sit down, then pulled over a chest from in front of the bed and took a seat herself.
Small talk. I hated small talk in every situation, but this just made it weirder. “Why does it matter?”
“Just curious,” she shrugged. “Didn’t they give you any clothes?”
I looked down and pulled at the fabric of the tank top. “You’re looking at them.”
“You’re not going to keep anyone’s interest looking like that.”
I grimaced, more offended that she suggested I wanted anyone’s attention than her remark about how I looked. “Why would I want interest? I’d be perfectly happy with fading into the background.”
“Interest usually means favor, darlin’. If you want things, if you want to be comfo
rtable, there’s only one way to get it around here.” She ran a hand through her hair, pulling it all over one shoulder. “You really are fresh aren’t you?”
“I figured they already told you all about me.”
“They said you were just brought in yesterday, which is why I wondered from where?”
“From my house, I reckon,” I snapped. “Thanks to whatever Gabe dosed me with, I don’t really remember much.”
Alley looked me over for a few seconds, her eyes wide.
I angled myself away from her; I was tired of being looked at like a fresh specimen.
“When Miles said Kirk was bringing you down here and asked me to explain some of the rules, I just assumed that you’d been working at one of the other retreats.”
“Retreat?”
“That’s what we call them. Milo owns several of them. I used to work at one near St. Louis, but I came here about two years ago. It’s better than anywhere else I’ve been in a long time.”
All I could manage to do was stare back at her blankly.
“Kirk’s a good guy, darlin’. Everyone wants him, but no one can get him. Not for long at least.”
I propped my elbows on my knees and leaned my chin against my fists. “He’s not all he’s cracked up to be.”
“First rule of survival, don’t talk bad about the men, especially your Master. He’s taking care of you, so appreciate it. Kirk doesn’t let himself get wrapped up in all the superfluous like the others. That’s why he’s good at his job. But he’s good to us. And he’s fucking gorgeous.”
I laughed in spite of myself. “Have you tried to get with him?”
She smirked and shrugged in a mischievous way. “I have enjoyed his company, but I have my own Master to attend to most of the time.”
She talked about it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. I wondered if I would get to that point. If meaningless sex would just become some mundane part of my life.
“He particularly likes—”
“No.” I stiffened, smacking my hands against my knees. “Not ready for this.”
Alley giggled then her face became serious. “At this stage I guess you’ll think I’m crazy for calling you lucky, but you are.”
“Lucky to be locked up and told to have sex with people I have no feelings for?” I let my mouth go. It was the safest place I had to vent, and I just had to hope that Alley would take pity rather than running to tell Miles.
She touched my shoulder. “I have sex with whomever I’m told, but since Miles claimed me, that doesn’t happen that often. I like serving him.”
“I noticed,” I mumbled, then slapped my hand over my mouth.
She laughed and shrugged. “I wouldn’t have expected you not to.”
Chapter Six
The Main Course
Kirk must have figured that where his threats and violence failed, Alley’s light-hearted charm and apparent love of her Master would show me to appreciate my new lot in life. I wasn’t sure I’d go that far, but an afternoon without almost having my hair violently ripped out was a nice break.
“Can I ask how you got here?” I asked. She’d wanted to know my history, so it was only fair that I could ask about hers.
She sighed and rose to her feet, opening one of the drawers on the dressing table to pull out a comb. “Turn around,” she said, waiting next to the stool for me to move.
I hesitated, not entirely ready for anyone to be touching my tender scalp, but cooperating was the best way to get information, so I swung my legs over to the other side and faced the mirror. As soon as I saw my reflection, I glanced away. I didn’t need a constant reminder.
Alley carefully dragged the comb through my hair, loosening the tangles and smoothing it down. “I came from a good home,” she said, “I got decent grades, played sports. When I was sixteen, I started seeing this guy. He was eighteen, and I thought he was the coolest and greatest guy in the world.”
She laid the comb down and started a braid at the side of my hair, weaving it to the back of my neck as she slowly relayed her story. “He gave me everything I wanted, and then he convinced me to entertain him and some of his friends. I passed out at the end of the night. I woke up to find that he’d sold me.”
I closed my eyes, feeling sick to my stomach. Alley and I weren’t so different, and after everything I’d said—or worse, everything I thought—I wasn’t sure I could face her again. Even though she hadn’t heard the things I thought, it didn’t make me feel any less guilty for thinking that she must’ve been weak or pathetic for letting herself end up here and finding a way to enjoy the situation.
As she started a braid on the other side of my head, she continued. “Most of us have good lives here, we came from much worse. Even St. Louis was an improvement over being beaten and starved every day. We have food, a comfortable place to live, regular medical care. I’ve seen plenty of girls come in broken, and others come in fighting and swearing that they’ll never give in.”
“But you recommend I just give up?”
“It’s not giving up. It’s accepting your current circumstances. I rebelled once, but I realized that there’s nothing that I want that I can’t get here.”
“Love? A real relationship? A family?” I finally met her gaze in the mirror, searching for signs that she wanted more.
Her mouth cocked up in a half smile. “I wanted those things once. I also thought I had the man of my dreams once.” She shrugged, “Now I just think it’s overrated. I’d rather have a guy who keeps me safe than a guy who offers me the stars.”
“And you’re fine with the sex and violence.”
“We don’t really see that much violence. Ross has some warped tendencies, but he doesn’t just go around beating anyone.” She tucked the braids around in a bun at the side and secured it with a few bobby pins. “Sometimes things get out of hand, but the guards usually squash it pretty quickly. I’ve never seen one of the girls get seriously hurt.”
“I almost did.”
“But Kirk stopped it, and he’d stop it again. Give him a chance.” Alley pleaded as if she’d known him his entire life and he was just some guy hitting on me in a bar.
This was completely normal to her and yet I couldn’t wrap my brain around the fucked-up-ness of it all. “I don’t want to be here.”
“Sweetie,” she sat down next to me and took my hands.
I refused to meet her eyes. “I know it could be worse and I know I don’t have a choice in the matter and I should look at the bright side, but I’m pissed. I’m not a sex toy to be passed around.”
“Then convince Kirk to keep you.”
I pulled away and stood up needing to move, to pace until the anger dissipated from my system. “I’d like to choose my own partners, thanks.”
“Then, convince him to give you up. Which, with your current attitude, you could easily do.”
“That would put me at the mercy of the masses.” I waved my hands in the air then collapsed back down on the stool.
“Yep,” she shrugged slapping her hands against her thighs. “You’re busy concentrating on the choices you don’t have. If you want to keep doing that, no one can stop you.”
“What are my chances of getting out of here?”
She stared at me and slowly shook her head. “Even if you somehow managed to get off the grounds—”
“The tracking device,” I rolled my eyes and shook the cuffs on my wrists. “So, I have to get rid of these damn things first.”
“Short of chopping off your hands and head….”
Still feeling restless, I started to slide off the bench again, but she grabbed my arm. “You have to face this.”
“Is that what they told you when you were sold?”
“No, they beat the message into me. If you think you’re in pain now, with the bruises and scratches Gabe and his gang inflicted,” she grimaced, “that’s nothing. If you feel like fighting and digging in your heels, you’ll learn that real quickly. Even these guys will g
et sick of your disdain and rebellion.”
“I’ve slept with three guys in my entire life. I was nineteen when I lost my virginity and I haven’t exactly been adventurous. But now, I’m supposed to put out for every guy who comes in here and tells me to.”
She pursed her lips, “Not if you get Kirk to take a liking to you.”
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. It was always back to that. “Even then….”
“It doesn’t have to be that bad. Kirk doesn’t pay that much attention to us, so while you have his attention, keep it.”
“He doesn’t really want me. All he does most of the time is scowl at me, or ignore me entirely.”
“But he does want to protect you. That’s a good place to start.”
“Fine,” I exhaled and rubbed my sweaty palms against the shirt. I couldn’t convince myself to accept it, but she had a point. “Tell me what I have to do.”
“Lose the attitude.”
“Yeah, I keep getting that.”
She put her finger over my lips and raised her eyebrows. “And you’re not doing so well at it. Maybe we should start with something easier.”
Trapping me back at her vanity, she pulled out a makeup case and began simultaneously teaching me all about makeup and all of the rules I needed to know to survive as Kirk’s “pet.”
Never make eye contact—well, I’d shot that one to hell at least half a dozen times.
Keep your hands folded in your lap.
Everyone who isn’t Kirk and Ross should be addressed as “Sir.” The hardest part to swallow would be addressing Ross as “Master” as well, since apparently his rank negated all other claims when he was present.
The most important rule was to do whatever Kirk said.
I wasn’t even any good at doing that at work or school. I had a habit of challenging even the smallest things someone told me to do. Ask me, and I consider it. Dictate, and I rebel.
By the time she finished, I could only remember half of what she’d told me about the makeup… or the rules.
My brain had decided to go into standby mode until things made sense again.