by Kitty Thomas
He was as good as admitting to being a criminal. Why should she trust a criminal?
“Did Anton hurt you?” he asked.
“No.” She desperately wanted to call him Sir. In spite of all the things she’d been through, there was a peace in that title. In any title. At least until they turned on her.
“Anton said you were very excited. Very responsive.”
She was always excited in the beginning when things were new and the mask of kindness was still in place.
“If I agreed to be matched with someone, how do I know I would be safe? What if he only seemed okay, and then he started hurting me later?”
Lindsay returned to his side of the desk. “We routinely check in with our girls. Early on, it’s once a week, then once a month, then every few months. When we’re sure everything is fine, it’s a yearly video call. Whoever buys you will have a contract with us. The contract may not be enforceable by law, but they know the consequences of breaking it. We will handle anyone foolish enough to break our contract and get the girl out of there. We don’t have to do it often because we screen carefully.”
“What if he threatens me, and I say everything is okay because I’m scared of him?”
“We visit in person. Not me, but it will be someone who is fully capable of handling any issue that may arise. We will remove you from a bad situation.”
Mina’s brain finally caught up with part of what the doctor said. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t suspected as much, but to hear it was another thing. “Buy? Someone would be buying me?”
“Yes. Do you think we do this out of some charitable urge?”
“Would I be seeing any of this money?”
“Not a penny.”
“What if I say no?”
Lindsay’s face appeared smooth and unrippled, mild and untroubled. But his fingers gripped his own newly reupholstered leather. “Then you can go home.” His voice was tight.
“Would you still see me as a patient?”
He relaxed a fraction. “If you wish.”
Of course, because then he could keep tabs on her and know if she could still be trusted. He’d know the moment she had an urge to fill out a police report.
She wanted to know if he’d been this open with other prospects. Somehow she doubted it, and she was afraid to make him any more skittish.
“Mina? I’ve risked myself and my safety because I care about you. I care that you are happy and safe and protected, and that your life works out for you in all the ways you’ve ever dreamed without the ugly things that have cast a shadow over you. You’ve been coming here for a while now. You obviously feel safe enough to be alone with me. If you can just place your trust in me a little further, I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I promise you.”
She’d be lying if she said his impassioned speech had no effect. Whether her instincts were right or wrong on this, she did trust him. And if anyone could ensure no one ever hurt her again, she trusted Lindsay could. He radiated a confident power that she’d yet to encounter. If there was such a thing, he was the real deal.
And if he was the real deal, then he knew where to find more of his kind.
“What would happen if I said yes?”
“If you agree, you will go home tonight and pack your bags. Pack anything you have any strong attachment to because you won’t be returning. A car will pick you up and take you to an estate where you will be trained, and a match will be found for you. At that point, once we’ve screened him properly and he’s signed all our paperwork and paid for you, you will be turned over to his care.”
No. This is madness. Unless you have an absolute death wish, this is not the way.
But the place inside her that Jason hadn’t yet killed—the place Anton had briefly touched—cried out for the hope that the kind of master Lindsay described could be real and that somehow this mystery man could undo everything those before him had done. She’d been barely existing since Jason. As fucked up and horrible as it was with him, as uncertain and abusive… she didn’t know how to be normal anymore.
“I live at the estate,” Lindsay continued, oblivious to her inner struggle. “As does Anton. You will meet other girls. No one will do anything we talked about in your limits, or they will face consequences.”
“Why do you do this?”
“Find a need and fill it. Business 101. Do we have a deal, Mina?” The devil smiled at her as the devil does when he’s about to take your soul in a pact signed with blood.
“I…” She wanted to say yes. As insane as it was she wanted to believe this wasn’t the worst thing she could agree to.
“Go home and pack your things. A car will be by for you at seven in the evening. Get into the car and start a new life. Or don’t. I’ll instruct the driver to leave at seven-thirty with or without you.”
18
Mina paced the apartment. She’d packed her luggage: clothes, toiletries, and a few items of sentimental value that she couldn’t part with—mostly old photos and an ornate silver ring with small black stones that her grandmother had given her before she’d passed away.
She still remembered her grandmother taking the ring off and placing it in her hand. “I’m not long for this world, Caramina. Take it so the others don’t fight over it. The silver will ward evil away from you. If the ring ever burns you, you know you’re in the company of someone or something bad, and you must get away from it.”
Mina had known the delirium was setting in, that her grandmother was talking nonsense, confusing dreams with reality. Still, she liked to believe the ring truly did have powers and could protect her.
“Did it ever burn you?” she’d asked, playing along.
“Only once. I shot that motherfucker in the face.”
Mina had nodded and pretended to believe her. The woman hadn’t even owned a gun, and she certainly had never shot anyone in the face or anywhere else.
After her grandmother died, Mina had sorted through the bottom drawers in the old woman’s closet to find the box that went with the ring. There it had stayed for the past three years. It hurt her to look at it.
There had been a fight about the ring. Three different cousins believed it should have been theirs. Soon after, Mina had drifted away from the family and moved into another city where she’d been ever since. Her grandmother had been the only one tethering her to the people who were supposed to be her blood.
The ring story was nonsense, but she wanted to believe that if she’d been wearing it when she’d met Jason, she would have known he was bad and stayed away.
So much pain and permanent scarring could have been avoided if she’d known he was a flame to stay well enough away from.
She slipped the ring on her finger as the clock on the mantle chimed out seven ominously hollow gongs. Outside, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled to the curb. The driver didn’t honk. He just sat with the engine idling. Waiting for her.
Mina went through the apartment searching for anything else she might miss if she never saw it again. When she looked at the clock again, it was seven-twenty. The sedan still idled. Her heart palpitated wildly, trying to escape her chest.
She’d packed as Lindsay requested, but the packing had felt more like something to pass time. Once the driver left, she’d have plenty of time to unpack and put her things back where they belonged. She wasn’t going. She’d known she wasn’t going from the moment she’d taken the suitcases out of the closet.
She’d just wanted the option. If she wasn’t packed, she wouldn’t have the option because there was no way she could leave absolutely everything behind to go… wherever the hell she was being taken. But to admit that to herself and not pack at all was to admit she would never have love again. If someone didn’t arrange something safe for her, only loneliness stretched before her.
Her tenth cigarette of the evening shook between her fingers. Would they let her smoke? Would her master let her smoke? Would they make her quit? A lot of people thought smoking was a disgusti
ng habit. She agreed, but it calmed her nerves. It made her feel like she could hold things together even while they were falling apart around her.
What if they wouldn’t let her smoke?
She laughed in the stillness of the apartment. She wasn’t going. Her smoking habit was safe.
At seven twenty-five, she went to the window again. Her stomach knotted tighter with each minute that passed. She should make some dinner. But she couldn’t. She had to watch the sedan drive away.
At seven-thirty, right on schedule, the car began to pull slowly from the curb. A panic burst out of Mina’s chest, and she ran out the door and down the single flight of stairs. Thank God she was only on the second floor. Outside, she grabbed a rock, ran down the road, and threw it at the car. It hit the back window, and the brake lights came on.
Mina dropped the cigarette she’d been holding and put it out with her shoe.
A perturbed man stepped out of the car and glared at her.
“You were supposed to pick me up,” she said, suddenly flustered and wanting to run again.
“I waited half an hour as instructed. If you couldn’t be ready by that time…”
“Can you please help me with my bags?” Had she just said that?
The driver gave a curt nod. He pulled the car to the front of the building and went inside to get her things.
The drive was silent and long—most of it outside the city in the countryside. It was late when they pulled up to what could only be described as a mansion. And even that didn’t do it justice. Maybe castle? How did this place exist? How did no one know about it?
The estate seemed to be in the middle of a forest. Had they blocked satellites, somehow? Surely if this place existed, someone would have seen it and reported on it. People would want to know what it was, who owned it, why it was out in the middle of nowhere.
The driver was buzzed in through an iron gate, and they drove up a large hill to the house. The sedan pulled into an expansive circular driveway.
“Go in. Your luggage will be brought to your room,” the driver said when the car stopped.
She trudged up the stairs like a child trying to get out of going to school. Before she could pull the old-fashioned doorbell, the door opened.
“Mina, you made it.” Lindsay took both of her hands and pulled her into the sprawling estate. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“I almost didn’t. I cracked the back window of your car with a rock.” Better for her to tell him than the driver.
Lindsay raised an eyebrow. “I see. Let me show you to your suite.”
Mina gaped at the marble floors and ornate staircase in the entry hall. She couldn’t believe she was staying here. The doctor let go of one of her hands, but kept a grasp on the other as he led her to the staircase.
A man with dark black hair and eyes even darker approached. “Lindsay, I need to meet with you privately.”
“I’ll be with you in a few minutes. My office,” Lindsay responded.
“Fine.”
Mina shrank and hid behind the doctor as the stranger stared, his gaze panning over her. She was grateful she wasn’t wearing anything sexy—just frumpy jeans and a t-shirt. The way he looked at her was bad enough, but if she’d looked remotely decent, it would have been worse.
Suddenly her whole body burned. She looked down at the ring, her eyes going wide. Was the ring…? Of course not! That was insane! She’d loved her grandmother, but her delirious ramblings days before her death hadn’t been exactly factual or trustworthy. Other tales of hers had included wanting to take a canoeing vacation on the moon, and the insistence that her canoe be pink so the aliens wouldn’t take it.
The heat was just the beginning of a panic attack. The feeling went away by the time they reached the top of the stairs, though she’d looked behind her to make sure the stranger wasn’t following. She hoped her door had a big, heavy lock on it.
They went to the end of the hallway and up another, less opulent flight of stairs. “The only room we have left right now is a tower. I’m afraid it’s quite a trek. And our elevator is out at the moment.”
They had an elevator? Of course there was an elevator. This place looked like a gothic-themed dungeon resort. Give kinksters unlimited funds to create any place they wanted, and this would be the obvious end result.
They ascended several more flights. At each floor was a long hallway and several rooms. There was no hallway at the top of the last staircase, just a landing and a large door with wood and ironwork. Lindsay unlocked it and urged her inside.
The room was clean and large and circular. The walls were stone with small windows going all the way around. A bathroom was built into the tower, breaking the perfect circle. But the bathroom walls were glass.
“A curtain pulls around it—not that you’ll need it,” he said. “We have a cafeteria you can visit during certain hours to eat. And there is a game room and a pool. We recently enclosed the pool in glass so it can be used year round more easily. Plenty to amuse yourself with.”
The tower might be creepy, but the view of the grounds from this high up was amazing—even at night.
The room had a flat screen television mounted on the wall and a king-sized bed covered by a simple black duvet. Chains were bolted into the wall. There was a large trunk at the foot of the bed which Mina assumed probably contained BDSM-related things. A chest of drawers stood near the bed.
The room also had a writing desk with a plush purple chair in front of it. A black binder sat on the desk next to an old-fashioned rotary phone. She hadn’t seen one of those since she was a child at her grandmother’s house.
“It’s decorative.” He pointed to a gray box on the wall. “We recently extended our intercom system to all suites. We have a few phones with outside lines, but you can understand why those are not for your use. If you need something, use the intercom. The rules of how you are to comport yourself while here are in the binder. Read and follow them. Are you hungry?”
She was hungry. She hadn’t realized they were going to be driving so long or arrive so late. Maybe she should have made dinner at a normal time, but she’d been too nervous to eat until her fate was decided.
“The kitchen closed half an hour ago, but I’ll send something up.”
“T-thank you.”
Lindsay took both of her hands into his again. “You are going to be fine, Mina. I promise we will handle you with care, and I’ll find you someone who won’t hurt you.”
He pulled a silver bracelet from his pocket. “Have you ever been under house arrest?” He tried to make it sound like a joke.
Mina shook her head.
“I won’t lock you in your room, but you have to stay on the grounds—for obvious reasons.”
He may as well have gone ahead and said, “You’ve seen too much already to be set free.” But he simply locked the metal band around her wrist.
“It’ll zap you if you go outside the property lines, so keep that in mind if you venture outside. If it beeps, you are to stop whatever you’re doing and come to my office on the first floor. Someone can guide you to it. I need to go meet with Brian now.”
Lindsay left her, and she sat on the edge of the bed. She prayed she wouldn’t have to interact with Brian. He was exactly the kind of man she’d been trying to escape.
Brian impatiently paced Lindsay’s office, distracted by thoughts of the new girl. She’d been so exotic. Dark olive skin and silky raven hair that went halfway down her back. Her eyes were a luminous green, which made them seem to glow against the dark palette of her skin—like a cat staring out at him from the shadows.
She was scared of him. Smart girl. Everyone was scared of him. If he were being completely honest, sometimes he scared himself.
Brian considered himself a monster with a purpose. His job at the house was to mete out the more sadistic punishments that the other trainers didn’t have the stomach for—and especially to train the girls who were at the extreme level of masochistic and too much
for the others to handle. At the end of the day most of the trainers were lightweights living out their soft-core porn fantasies for a healthy paycheck.
He got all the grunt work, but he wasn’t complaining. It fed the dark, swirling shadow that crawled underneath his skin demanding blood and retribution. If he went too long without feeding it, his skin started to burn and itch. And he’d get headaches. The shrink said it was all psychosomatic. All in his head. No, only the headaches were in his head. The other issues were more all encompassing.
Each trainer was a type of tool in the grand scheme of their ambitious enterprise. Brian was a blunt force instrument designed to do damage, create fear, and keep every girl obedient on threat of being sent to him. He was the enforcer. With him there, the house only needed one.
When he was hurting someone, his own demons stopped tormenting him briefly. The images and flashbacks from his youth short-circuited, and the loop stopped playing for those few moments while he made memories that would give his victim flashbacks of her own. It was an ugly form of transference, but it let him sleep at night, however unsoundly.
Before they’d started this unusual and very illegal business venture, Lindsay had tried to put him on medication. But the drugs just made him foggy on top of everything else. Acting out his sadism on living flesh was the only drug that worked.
In fact, one might say that the house revolved in some sense around Brian. He was the seed that had sprouted into this deliciously wicked idea. To the casual observer, Anton ran the show, with Lindsay and Gabe right behind him in the pecking order. Most of the myriad trainers in the house deferred to them. But the three of them, plus Brian, were all partners—equal now that they’d all invested into the business. Brian was a silent partner. He’d gone along with the outward ruse of being a mere employee for optics.