Slave Girl

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by Sam Crescent


  For a long time, she’d been no one and now, she was finally someone.

  Chapter Three

  One week later

  Raphael liked to party. He was known for it. A party animal.

  Drinking. Fucking. Not having a care in the world. He still had to keep up appearances. If he stopped going out and spent more time at his apartment, people would talk. His father would find out that he was acting differently. So far, no mention of Elenore, or Slave Girl.

  She’d disappeared and no one cared. As far as he knew, his father wasn’t actively looking for her, or for anyone else. She wasn’t part of their world anymore.

  Sipping at the same whiskey he’d ordered when he came in, he shook his head at one of the women who’d been eyeing him from the moment she entered. People knew who he was. Women did. While he wasn’t married or attached, they hoped to get their claws into him and to take what he didn’t want to give. They wanted his reputation, his wealth, and the power belonging to him offered.

  He was never going to give it to the women. They were all wasting their time, but rather than tell them the truth, he continued to play the game. He had to. If his father ever figured out the truth, Elenore would be punished. He didn’t want to see her hurt.

  “Wow,” Antonio said, sitting back. “I never thought I’d see the day you checked your watch more than you did the free pussy available.”

  Antonio didn’t care about the women available. He had a woman back home, and he hadn’t wanted to come out and play, but seeing as Raphael asked, begged even, he’d come out to join him. Appearances were everything, and Antonio was the only one he ever hung out with at any bars.

  “I’ve already had her,” he tried to give as an excuse.

  “Do you remember her?”

  “Yeah, she sucked cock a little too eagerly if you ask me.” He didn’t have a clue about the woman.

  Checking the time again, for the fourth time within the last ten minutes, he knew he couldn’t leave just yet. Antonio sat back, clearly getting comfortable.

  “You took her,” Antonio said.

  Raphael tensed up and turned to his friend.

  Antonio was loyal to his father. They were close, good friends. There were times even Raphael believed his father wished he was a little like Antonio, not that it would ever happen.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “If you want to keep on lying, I can continue to play this game until I’m fucking bored with it, or you can cut the shit and admit the truth. You have the slave girl. There were no survivors of the raid. We saw to that. My woman saw to that. There was no way for her to leave. There was also surveillance footage of you carrying her out to your car and dumping her in the trunk. Do you want me to keep on going with all the information I have?”

  “Why haven’t you told my father?” he asked.

  “Last time I checked, we were friends.” Antonio sipped at his beer.

  “You’re my father’s lapdog.”

  Antonio snorted. “If you were so fucking clever right now, you’d ask if I still had the footage.”

  “Do you?”

  “No, I destroyed it. I figured you’d come to me when you need help.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  “What I find curious is how you were able to treat her wounds without your father finding out. It means you know people who are willing to go behind Giavanni’s back.”

  “Look, Antonio, I consider you a brother. I love you like one, but don’t get involved in this.”

  “I became involved the moment I destroyed the evidence of you stealing. Son or not, we know there would be punishment. Now you have the slave girl locked up somewhere and it will only be a matter of time before you screw up. When you do, you’re going to need me. Don’t turn me into an enemy.”

  He looked at Antonio. “Why? You’re in my father’s good graces. He’s allowing you to marry Ellie.”

  “We all have our reasons. You ever noticed your father’s got someone around his neck all the time?”

  Raphael frowned. “My uncle Gino. He’s not a problem.”

  “Something is going on and I don’t know what. I know you, Raphael. For you to turn against your father like this, you have a reason.”

  “Look, Gino is nothing, forget about him. My father is not all he claims, Antonio. For now, that’s all I’m going to tell you but I need to go and conduct more business.” He finished off his drink and was about to get to his feet. He stopped. “She’s not a slave girl anymore. Her name’s Elenore.”

  Antonio nodded. “Pretty name.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not going to be able to claim her while your father is alive.”

  “I know what limitations my life has because of that man. Thank you for your concern.” Getting to his feet, he left the club. For the first time since he’d been coming here, he wasn’t leaving with a woman or two.

  He used to enjoy using women. They were easy pickings so long as he could have a couple of hours of not thinking about Elenore.

  The name suited her more than he thought it would. She was his Elenore. He smiled, just thinking of that brand of ownership. No, he didn’t own her. He hadn’t forced himself on her. She was free, or as free as she could be while trapped with him.

  One day, he’d give her a choice to be with him or to run free. First, though, he had debts to pay.

  After going to his car, he opened up the trunk to see his prize waiting, still unconscious and bound. He slammed the trunk down and climbed behind the wheel. He’d already given Timothy the heads-up he was coming in with a prize.

  An hour later, he pressed the code into the secure gates and drove down toward the main entrance. The doors were lifted and he drove the car in.

  Timothy waited in a blue surgical gown. “What do I have today?” he asked.

  “Rapist and child molester,” he said.

  Once he’d pulled out the file the cop had prepared for him, he handed it over to Timothy, who read through the report. There was also a medical report on the victim.

  “Nasty,” Timothy said.

  “I thought you might like it.”

  “Clearly the girl means a lot to you. How is she healing?”

  “She is doing well,” he said.

  “I will stop by tomorrow to check her stitches. She has my best work, you know that.”

  “I do.”

  Raphael opened the trunk. The man was coming to.

  Lifting him out of the confines of the car, Raphael carried him to where Timothy liked to do his work. Dropping him down on a table, he pulled the tape off the man’s mouth and the guy moaned.

  “I don’t know who you are, but please let me go. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Benjamin, that’s your name, right?” Timothy asked. “It says here you like to rape your victim while they’re still conscious.”

  “They’re all lies.”

  “Really. So you don’t anally penetrate and then force them to lick you clean or rape their vagina?” Timothy asked. “Also, these girls are underage. Your youngest victim was twelve.”

  “They’re all lies. You can ask anyone.”

  “I’m sure you’re an upstanding member of society. We’ll see how long you last.” Timothy secured his wrists and feet, finally his head. “I don’t like it when they wriggle too much.”

  Raphael stepped out of the room as Timothy grabbed the scalpel. He heard the man’s screams as he closed the trunk.

  Timothy appeared minutes later with a smile on his lips. “I do like it when they scream.”

  “What do you do exactly?” Raphael asked.

  “I make the first incision on their dick,” Timothy said. “It’s always their most prized area. I don’t cut it away completely, that comes later, but I like them to see they have no power now.”

  “Enjoy,” he said.

  “I’m aware of your father’s predilection for young girls. He doesn’t dabble often but when he does, he causes
pain,” Timothy said.

  “How did you find that out?” Raphael asked.

  “I have my ways. I know when the time is right, you will come to me, and I will gladly make that man suffer for months before I give him the grace of death.”

  Raphael nodded. “I’ll keep you in mind.”

  “Do so, Raphael, also be careful. There are times people are not always what they seem.”

  He took any warning from Timothy seriously. His father had a tendency to send little tests to question his loyalty. He’d passed every single one.

  With the distraction of Elenore, he would need all the help he could get. His father’s tests were always at the most inappropriate times.

  What did he know?

  Why did he doubt him?

  After climbing into the car, he drove out of Timothy’s private facility and made his way back toward the city.

  Elenore would be waiting for him, and he couldn’t wait to get home.

  ****

  Her name finally didn’t look like a scribble.

  Elenore smiled as she held up the notebook Raphael had given to her. She had her name.

  Elenore.

  She liked it.

  Now, she could also write it down and spell it as well. She knew each letter. She loved writing the e, it was so cute. She fingered the letter.

  Raphael returned home just as she finished writing it again. Getting to her feet, she rushed toward him. “Look what I can do,” she said, holding the notebook up. “Don’t you think that looks good?”

  “It does. You’ve been doing this all day?”

  “Yes, I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all. It’s a way to fill your day.” He took the notebook from her. His nose twitched. “What’s in the oven?”

  “I made you a casserole. Your favorite, the one you always have when you’re at your dad’s.” She tried not to think about every single Giavanni.

  There were nights she still lay awake, expecting a guard to come and get her. Those days were always the worst. Giavanni would always find a way of letting her know her services were required.

  With him now holding the book, she felt this overwhelming need to hug him, but she didn’t. She took a step back to go and check the casserole. The biscuits she’d placed on top were a nice golden brown. The mushroom casserole looked nice and creamy.

  Once she’d taken it out of the oven, she put it on a board to stop the heat from transferring through the surface. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving. It has been a long night.” He groaned. “Don’t forget to serve yourself.”

  He kept odd hours. She always waited to eat food with him. She loved the days when he was home to cook. Not because she didn’t like to cook, but she enjoyed watching him in the kitchen.

  Raphael was already seated at the head of the table. She put a plate in front of him, complete with a knife and fork, joining him.

  “How’s your arm and leg?”

  “They’re good. I’m able to move more freely. I think that’s a good thing, right?”

  “It sounds like it.”

  She chuckled. “I hope you enjoy.” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he took the first mouthful of food, waiting in anticipation for him to try it.

  She’d worked hard all day. The pain in her thigh was worth it if she’d gotten the measurements right. She’d only seen the cook back at her old prison make this dish.

  She waited.

  He closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh, man, this is so good.” This time he took a bigger bite.

  “You like it?”

  “Like it? I fucking love it.” He groaned again. “So good.” He asked for seconds and she rushed back to the kitchen to fill his plate. At least she’d done something right. Feeding him was a lot of fun.

  He finished off a second helping as she did her first plate. She was full and didn’t need any more. She went to pick up his plate with the intention of cleaning them but he stopped her, putting a hand to her wrist. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “You’ve been out all day, working hard.”

  “I don’t work too hard. Don’t worry about it.”

  She looked at the dirty plates, nibbled on her lip, and sat down. It was unusual for her to leave work unattended. “I can do the dishes.”

  “You’re not a slave anymore, Elenore. Don’t act like one.”

  “I’m not. I like taking care of you.”

  His gaze returned to hers.

  “If you’d let me. You’re doing so much for me. Why can’t I do a little bit for you? Is it so wrong?”

  “You’re used to washing dishes, doing as you’re told. Is there anything you’d like to do? Anything you’ve never been able to do?” he asked.

  “Lots of stuff.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m curious.”

  She smiled. “Er, I … I’d like to go to a park. You know, maybe go on the swings. I saw them on television today. I was watching a couple of kids’ programs. It looks like fun. Kids go to parks all the time.”

  “I like that,” he said. “A park. It’s simple.”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “No, not for anyone who has your history. I bet you never even knew what it was like to play.”

  “I don’t. He said playtime was for important people. Not people like me.”

  “My father is an asshole. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. What else would you like to do?”

  She touched her lips. “Be kissed.”

  Raphael sat up. “Kissed? Is this another thing you saw?”

  She nodded. “It’s silly as well. I watched this movie and this man fell in love with this girl, and he kissed her at the end. It looked really sweet. She looked so happy. I’ve never had a kiss.”

  Raphael kept on staring at her. “Fuck it. Come with me,” he said. He stood up, holding out his hand.

  She took it without hesitation. “What’s going on?”

  “You’ve been locked in one form of a cage to another. I’m not going to be the kind of guy to constantly be the same as other men.” They walked into his room. He went into the closet and came back with a baseball cap. He tucked all of her hair into her shirt. He tugged on a sweater, followed by the cap.

  She watched in amazement as he stripped down to his boxer briefs and changed clothes.

  By the time he finished, he didn’t look like Raphael, but someone else. He took her hand, and they left his apartment. The guard he usually had at the door was long gone. He never lingered when Raphael returned home.

  “We’ll go out the back way,” he said.

  She didn’t even know the front way.

  He didn’t let go of her hand as they escaped the building. They rushed past the parking lot and into the darkness.

  Raphael was fast and she kept up with him, even if she was a little out of breath.

  He slowed down eventually, tucking her against his side.

  “I’ll take you to the park. It’s a small one. Come on.”

  She had no idea where they were going or how far they had gone from his apartment. She was out in the open. The fresh air was on her face. Free. To a point.

  She knew if Giavanni knew about them, he’d possibly hurt Raphael. She didn’t want Raphael to be hurt. She cared about him. He’d been kind to her, and she wanted to be his friend.

  “How about that?” Raphael said, looking toward the park.

  Elenore recognized the rides from the program she’d watched. “Can we go in?”

  “Yes.” He opened the gate, letting go of her hand. She wasn’t even tempted to run away. She walked into the park and smiled as she approached the swing.

  Holding on to the chain, she sat down on the seat.

  “Hold on tight.”

  She let out a squeal as Raphael pushed her back.

  She jerked forward and Raphael laughed.

  He held her back and leaned down, his l
ips brushing across her ear. “You have to let go and trust the seat to hold you.”

  She let go of the chains.

  “Not your hands. Your feet, hold them up. Here, I’ll show you.” He sat on the swing beside her and showed her what to do with her legs.

  “Oh, right, of course.”

  He came to a stop and moved behind her. His hand pressed on her back and this time, she soared up through the air. She gasped as she rocked her legs in time with the motion of the swing.

  Back and forth.

  It felt amazing.

  The cap blew off her head, and she was flung out of the swing onto the ground, crying out as she felt pain explode in her thigh and shoulder.

  Raphael cursed, coming to her side, putting the hat back on her head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you to the park.”

  “I don’t mind. I enjoyed it,” she said, smiling up at him, even with tears in her eyes.

  “This one would have been safer to do.”

  She wasn’t expecting his lips against hers. At first, she froze up, not really sure what she should do or how she should react.

  This was her first kiss.

  Did the woman on the television have the same reaction? Did her heart race? Was the kiss nice? Did she enjoy it?

  Her lips tingled from the pleasure of his lips.

  Suddenly, Raphael pulled away and he looked down at her. “There, you got one first today.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I think it’s time we head home and I call the doctor to come and assess your wounds.”

  Home?

  Doctor?

  Her life really had changed.

  Chapter Four

  “Do I need to write out a list of special instructions?” Timothy asked, finishing the last of the stitches.

  The wound to her thigh had only been a graze but because she hadn’t been resting, it had torn open. The bullet to her shoulder had been lodged in there and Timothy had to take it out. Now she’d torn those stitches too.

  There was no doubt in Raphael’s mind that Timothy was pissed. The doctor didn’t look happy.

  “I expect my patients to be given the utmost care,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s my fault,” Elenore said. “I wanted to go to the park. I’ve never been and Raphael was just being nice. I promise.”

 

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