Buttons & Lace

by Penelope Sky

  “Us.”

  He looked down into my face, waiting for an explanation.

  “You kidnapped me, but I still love having sex with you. You’re holding me here against my will, but I trust you. You’ve slapped me and whipped me, but I feel safe with you.”

  “That’s nothing to feel guilty about. We’re attracted to each other.”

  He didn’t understand. “I have a boyfriend...” Crow knew about him. He saw it in my file. “And I feel bad for enjoying you when he’s at home worried sick about me. He doesn’t know what happened to me. He probably can’t sleep or even think...”

  Crow tensed beside me, clearly irritated by the subject. “You’re mine now, Button. Forget about him.”

  “But I can’t. We lived together. We were together for a year. We had some hard times, but I know that didn’t change our feelings. I know he’s trying to get through each day, hoping I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere.”

  Crow looked away, his cheeks red and his nostrils flaring. Rage built inside him and reached a breaking point. Then violence shook him, making him a man I didn’t recognize.

  “Don’t be jealous.”

  He clenched his jaw and stopped himself from speaking.

  “Please let me call him. Just let me tell him I’m okay, and I’ll be back in a year.” That would alleviate some of my guilt. Jacob would know I was alive and taken care of. I wasn’t drugged in a brothel somewhere in the Middle East. I lived in luxury with a man who protected me.

  “You aren’t calling him.” He pulled his arm away and scooted to the edge of the couch. He rested his arms on his knees, his head tilted toward the floor. “Don’t feel guilty for anything. Don’t even think about him. Pretend he doesn’t exist.” Anger burned in his voice. “He’s a piece of shit. Don’t you dare think about him.”

  I knew Crow was possessive of me, but I never suspected him as the jealous type. I was his slave, his plaything. But I was never his girlfriend. I was never his lover. He made that abundantly clear. “Please let me call him. Just two minutes.”

  He rose to his feet, his arms shaking. “No.”

  “I’m not going to tell him where I am, okay?”

  He turned around, giving me a look that actually scared me. “No. Now drop it.”

  “Crow—”

  “You’re forbidden from thinking of him. End of story.”

  “Forbidden?” I asked. “Crow, there’s nothing to be jealous of.”

  “I’m not jealous,” he snapped. “I hate that fucker with every fiber of my being. Just listen to me. Don’t think about him. Forget you ever knew him.”

  The conversation wasn’t adding up. Crow claimed he wasn’t jealous, but he was violently angry, angrier than I’d ever seen him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He avoided my look, staring into the dead fireplace.

  “Crow?”

  His jaw remained clenched, refusing to speak.

  I rose to my feet as my suspicion grew. I’d been around Crow long enough to understand him. His moods were different from this. His anger didn’t come out of nowhere. He had a reason for every action he took. There was an explanation behind this. “Tell. Me. Now.” He only responded to strength. The harder I pushed, the more he gave. He didn’t submit out of weakness but respect.

  He turned his gaze on me, his green eyes deliberating.

  “I can handle it.”

  He held another moment of silence before he spoke. “I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t see the point.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “But I’m not going to let you feel guilty for enjoying me, a real man. I’m not going to let you think he’s at home searching for you. I’m not going to let you think that asshole loves you.”

  Now I was scared. Actually scared.

  He broke eye contact for a second, glancing at the floor before he turned back to me. “He’s the one who sold you.” His words thudded against the air like atomic bombs. Each one exploded with the power to decimate mountains.

  I heard what he said. I understood it perfectly. But my brain rejected it because it didn’t add up. “What?”

  “He took you to the dock because that’s where they agreed to meet. He was supposed to hand you over and leave.”

  “But...he was knocked out.”

  “A part of the plan. He didn’t want you to know he was responsible.” The ferocity still burned in his eyes. His anger increased with every passing second, reaching each corner of the room.

  “He wouldn’t do that.” I refused to believe that. Our relationship was rocky for months, but he would never resort to that for some quick cash. “No.”

  “He had some serious gambling debts. If he didn’t pay them back, he was going to be killed. He got a hundred thousand dollars for you since you were American and beautiful.”

  My stomach clenched like I’d been stabbed. I remembered the greasy man who came to the apartment looking for Jacob. He said Jacob owed him money. I brushed it off at the time, assuming it was just a mistake or Jacob lost a hundred bucks in a round of poker. But now it made sense. Everything started adding up, justifying the story Crow told me.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and felt the humiliation stick to me like humidity. This entire time, I battled my guilt for my relationship with Crow. I agreed to our arrangement just so I could go home and return to my life. But now I understood there was no life waiting for me at home. Jacob never got another job. He used the money he’d been paid to take me to the Bahamas with the intention of leaving me there.

  Oh, god.

  I covered my mouth as tears burned deep in my heart. They didn’t start in the back of my eyes like they usually did. They seeped from my broken soul.

  Crow watched me. His anger faded and sadness replaced it. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

  I didn’t want his pity. It was written all over his face. To him, I was a stupid girl who believed stupid things. My own boyfriend betrayed me for some cash. When he was at his lowest point, I stood beside him. But when he hit hard times, he immediately turned on me. He sold me to a group of traffickers, knowing exactly what would happen to me.

  And he did it anyway.

  Heartbreak couldn’t describe what I felt.

  Betrayal couldn’t describe it either.

  There was nothing in any human language that could describe the agony ripping me apart from the inside out. To any onlooker, I just looked quiet. But inside, I was crumbling apart. All my strength to survive and return home had vanished. Jacob was the only family I had. Now there was no reason to go home. There was nothing waiting for me.

  I turned to the door because I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t handle Crow’s pity a second longer. I hated the reflection of my pain in his eyes. All I wanted to do was leave—and never come back.

  “Button.” His gentle voice steadied me, but only for a second.

  I left the bedroom without looking back. My feet carried me to the entrance and out the front doors. My body couldn’t handle the pain deep in my gut. I didn’t know how to digest this kind of agony. It was worse than everything I experienced with Bones. I’d gladly take imprisonment over this.

  I couldn’t see well in the dark, so I stumbled through the night. I knew I reached the vineyards when I felt the leaves brush against me. I followed the dirt path down the rows, walking in a straight line. When I was away from the house and finally alone, I felt the tears slip from my eyes.

  I fell to my knees in the middle of the fields and sobbed where no one could hear me. I gave in to my broken heart and let everything pour out. I thought I hit rock bottom when I became a slave. But I knew I really hit rock bottom when there was nothing waiting for me back at home. My parents were too busy with drugs and alcohol to care about the police taking me away. My own boyfriend who I lived with sold me for a paycheck. I had nobody.

  I was nobody.

  ***

  The sprinklers turned on and splashed my face with frigid water. My eyes immediat
ely opened as my hair and clothes became drenched. I sat up and felt the drops slide down the bridge of my nose.

  The sun just peeked over the hills, basking the valley with an orange sun. The night had passed, but the darkness stayed behind. I cried myself to sleep and felt my eyes go dry while the agony still settled in my heart.

  I’d never broken down before, not quite like that. When I woke up, I hoped last night was just a nightmare. But seeing the fields surrounding me told me it was nothing but the harsh truth.

  I rose to my feet and walked along the row, still wet from the sprinklers. My clothes were soaked and sticking to my body. My hair clung to the back of my neck. My feet were bare, so the soil got stuck between my toes.

  I walked back to the house, knowing Crow would have left for work by now. I wouldn’t have to deal with him or his pathetic looks of pity. Lars would probably eye me with disdain as I tracked mud all over the house.

  But I couldn’t care less right now.

  I walked to my bedroom on the second floor and flinched when I saw Crow sitting there. He wasn’t dressed in a suit, and his hair wasn’t combed. He wore the same thing he’d worn the night before. He clearly hadn’t moved all night.

  On the bed was a breakfast tray of scrambled eggs, tomatoes, and slices of bacon. In a small vase sat a red rose, just like the day I arrived there.

  He rose to his feet and looked me over, still sympathetic. He didn’t ask me any questions, which was a relief. Concern was in his eyes, like he’d been worried about me all night long.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “I’m going to shower.” I looked like a wet cat that got stuck in some mud. I smelled like a farm animal.

  He nodded.

  I walked into the shower and stood under the warm water. Mud filled the drain at the bottom and disappeared through the tiny holes. My hair was caked with it, and my feet were worse.

  The door opened, and Crow came in behind me, buck naked and glorious. The water drifted down his hard muscles and powerful thighs. His hair was slicked back from the water, and his facial hair had thickened through the night.

  But I didn’t feel anything.

  He lathered his hands with soap then rubbed his palms into my skin. He cleaned me with his bare hands, massaging my neck and shoulders to get rid of the grime that had sunk into my pores. He even cleaned my hands, rubbing the dirt from the cracks in my fingernails. He washed me gently, taking his time. His cock never hardened as he touched me. But then again, why would he? I was a dumb and dirty girl standing in the shower.

  He washed my hair next, rubbing the grime from the strands. His strong fingers massaged my scalp, giving me the only comfort he could possibly give. He tilted my chin up then cupped my face. There was sorrow in his eyes, the first sign of compassion I’d truly seen on his face. Then he leaned down and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “I will hurt him for hurting you. I promise.”

  He was the only person who cared about what happened to me. When men tried to take me, he protected me. When someone even looked at me, he snapped. He gave me a home where I felt safe. He respected me, even treasured me. Despite his darkness, he was the kindest man I’d ever known. “I know.”

  ***

  Crow worked from home all week. He understood I needed my space, but he stayed in the house just in case I changed my mind. He came into my bedroom every few hours to check on me.

  I spent most of my time in solitude. I walked through the fields during the day, accompanied by the wind and the grapes. The sun pounded against my shoulders, but the warmth made me feel alive.

  I swam in the pool and floated on the surface, letting my buoyancy do all the work. I stared at the sky and tried to fall asleep. I wanted to slip under the water and drown. Death used to terrify me, but now it didn’t. Slipping away into the darkness sounded better than living in a nightmare.

  I was sold by a monster to another monster. And then I was snatched by a beast. The world was darker and more formidable than I ever thought possible. Everyone was innately selfish, guided by greed and power. I was just a pawn in the game like all the others. But I happened to be a lucky one. I could have been drugged and placed in a brothel in Mexico. I wouldn’t have known anything about my surroundings until the medication wore off. But then I would be drugged again—and again.

  It was a sad thought—to consider myself lucky.

  I spent my nights alone in my room. Most of the time, I didn’t sleep. I just stared at the wall and wondered what Jacob was doing in that moment. Had he already moved on with someone else? Did he ever feel guilt for what he’d done to me? Or was he just relieved his debt had been paid?

  Did I ever mean anything to him?

  Did he force himself to cry when he told everyone what happened? Did he fool everyone into believing he was truly sad for losing me? Had they stopped talking about me? I’d been gone for six months.

  That was a long time.

  My nights were always full of nightmares. Sometimes they contained Bones. Sometimes they included Jacob. Most of the time, they included both. Jacob was surrounded by mounds of cash while Bones stabbed me with a knife and fucked me at the same time.

  I always woke up in a cold sweat.

  That night was just like all the others. I sat up in bed, and my eyes immediately went to the vase on the windowsill. Seven buttons sat inside, distantly glowing under the moonlight.

  I stared at them and debated what I should do. Crow told me they were the currency we shared. He paid for things he wanted, and I paid for things I wanted.

  Right now, I wanted something.

  He denied it to me before, but perhaps a button would change his mind. I grabbed one button from the jar and walked to his bedroom. The door was locked like usual, so I knocked.

  He answered it a moment later, shirtless and tired. His hair was messy, and his eyes conveyed his exhaustion. He didn’t look at me with irritation like he normally would. Now, he was just concerned.

  I held up the button then placed it in his palm. “Can I sleep with you?” A single button in exchange for a night of sleep seemed fair. But I would give him two buttons if he really wanted to negotiate. I didn’t care about the price. I just wanted to be in that bed with him, to let him chase away my nightmares.

  He eyed the button in his palm and rubbed his thumb along the grooves. He turned it over and felt the other side, feeling the tiny holes located in the center. He pushed it between his forefinger and thumb before he grabbed my hand and placed it within my palm. He curled my fingers around it and closed my fist. “You can keep the button—this time.”

  I pulled my hand to my chest, treasuring the payment I didn’t have to make. Keeping the button didn’t matter to me. Freedom didn’t matter to me anymore either. But the gesture, the kindness, meant the world to me.

  Crow kissed the corner of my mouth before he guided me into his bedroom. He lay beside me in bed and wrapped his powerful arms around me, sleeping with me just the way I liked.

  I placed the button on the nightstand directly next to his lamp where I could grab it the following morning. It glinted under the light from his alarm clock, shiny and pristine.

  Crow hugged me to his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. “Sleep well, Button.”

  I hooked his arm across my chest, using it as an anchor. “I will.”

  Want more?

  The story continues in Buttons and Hate.

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