by Sykes, Julia
Obey Susan until I return.
The prospect of getting through the day without him was suddenly far less terrifying.
Chapter 5
I caught snippets of Master and Susan’s heated conversation as their harshly whispered words drifted in through my open doorway. Master wouldn’t consent to retreating further than the hallway to speak privately with Susan, so I was able to puzzle out some of what they were saying.
“Totally inappropriate… Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you give her permission to do everything… No different than that man -”
“Don’t you dare compare me to him,” Master barked before lowering his voice back to a murmur. “…don’t understand…”
“Then explain it so I can understand,” Susan hissed.
I picked out the words “structure” and “rules” in the midst of Master’s low rumbling.
“Is everything okay here?” Clayton’s voice cut through their hushed conversation.
“Yes,” Susan said slowly, her voice returning to a more normal volume. “I think so.” All of the fire had left her tone. Whatever Master had told her must have placated her.
“What are you doing here, Vaughn?” Master asked.
“We need to ask Jane some more questions. You know that,” Clayton replied calmly.
“That can wait until tomorrow.” Master’s voice was firm.
Clayton sighed. “We’re going nowhere fast with her case. Without more to go on, we can’t get any closer to locating her family or tracking down the Bastard who abused her. Do you really want to waste one more day before we find him? The longer we wait, the colder his trail gets.”
“Fine.” Master sounded resigned.
Susan poked her head through the door so she could address me. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, Jane,” she assured me.
“Okay. Thank you.” I truly was grateful that she had resolved whatever had made her angry with Master. I liked Susan, and Master trusted her to take care of me. I felt safe with her.
Then Master stepped into my room, and I forgot all about Susan. I had never really noticed how he moved before; he had spent most of his time with me sitting at my bedside. Although his body was imposing, he moved with the smooth, controlled grace of a predator. His eyes looked tired, but he had shaved since I had last seen him. It seemed he had a perpetual five o’clock shadow, but it only made him even more appealing, giving him a rough edge that belied the orderliness of his neatly tailored suit. And although he had straightened his appearance for work, his dark, wavy hair still fell haphazardly to curl just beneath his jawline.
Beneath his civilized veneer, there was a wildness to him that I relished. It was that ferocity that made me feel so safe with him. He would never turn it against me, but no one would dare to touch me while this powerful man claimed ownership of me.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He beamed at me, and the sight of his dimple elicited a reciprocal smile from me. The upward tug of the muscles around my mouth was still only a vaguely familiar sensation.
Clayton followed Master into my room. “Hey, Jane.” He was smiling at me too.
Everyone was so kind to me here. I never wanted to leave this place.
Master settled into the chair beside my bed again and covered my hand with his. I didn’t realize just how keenly I had missed his presence there. Tension I didn’t even know I had been holding in my muscles finally eased, and I felt safer than I had in hours.
Obeying Susan had been easy once Master had ordered me to do so, and we had followed a regimented schedule all day. I had eaten several small meals and even walked around for a short time to begin building up my strength. She explained that I would repeat the processes daily until I was healthy.
I couldn’t contemplate what might come after they deemed me healthy. The prospect of more change terrified me. All I wanted was for Master to tell me what to do. Before he had taken me for himself, I had been imprisoned in the dark for most of the time. Back then, I didn’t have to think about anything other than waiting for my ma – that Bastard, I corrected myself – to come and use me.
Now Master had burdened me with too many freedoms all at once. I would have been overwhelmed by them without his constant guidance. All of my senses were assailed by sights, sounds, and smells that were disturbingly familiar to me. I had forgotten about the world outside my dungeon, and now my recollections of such things threatened to call forth the woman I had once been.
She was the one who remembered these things, but I couldn’t allow myself to remember her. If she existed, then the abused slave also existed. I couldn’t face either of them. I had to stay in the present, had to focus on pleasing my new Master so I could remain in my new reality. I couldn’t look back.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you a few questions, Jane.” Clayton’s expression was slightly reluctant, regretful, even.
My gut clenched. I had gathered from their hushed conversation in the hallway that they wanted to question me about that Bastard. I didn’t want to think about him. But Clayton hadn’t asked whether or not I wanted to answer his questions; he had simply told me he would ask me.
Master squeezed my hand. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll be right here with you.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. Master wanted me to comply with Clayton’s wishes. Even though it wasn’t an order, I couldn’t refuse.
“We want to track down the man who hurt you, Jane,” Clayton said, his tone calm and even. “I know you can’t remember his name, but we can’t find him without more to go on. Can you tell us where he lives? Is he here in New York or did you travel to come to Decadence?”
I bit my lip. I didn’t know the answer to his first question. The Bastard had kept me in the dark, blindfolding me before he took me from my prison. And I had been so desperate for my fix that I hadn’t been able to focus on anything else. I had no concept of how much time had passed between leaving my dungeon and arriving at Decadence.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Clayton’s brow furrowed. “Did you meet up with him at the club that night? Where do you live?”
“Here.” This was my new home.
“Where did you live, Jane?” Clayton’s voice was cajoling, but the question penetrated my new sense of safety like dozens of needles pricking at my brain. I didn’t want to remember. I had resolved to bury the woman who had existed in that dungeon. I couldn’t be her any longer. A fine tremor ran through me as the scent of damp concrete and coppery blood filled my nostrils.
“Answer him, girl,” Master spoke softly, but it was an order.
“In the dark. I lived in the dark.”
Clayton shot a worried glance at Master. “I know your addiction must make it difficult to recall, but I need for you to try to remember where you were before you came to Decadence.”
Where was I before I had felt the sting of the needle for the first time?
My mind shied away from it. That was before I had been broken. There was nothing before the darkness.
But they wanted more from me. My answer didn’t please them.
“Can you describe your home to me?” Clayton pressed.
Home.
That word meant little to me. It was laughably incongruous with the dank misery in which I had existed. But I had nothing else to give Clayton.
“It was cold,” I whispered reluctantly, allowing the memory of that place to brush at the edges of my mind. “I think it was underground. It was always dark unless he was there.”
The fury rolling off of Master was so powerful that I couldn’t bear to look at him. Clayton’s expression was carefully neutral, but his knuckles were white where his clenched fist rested on his knee. I was trying my best to give them what they wanted, but it still wasn’t enough.
Answer him. Master had ordered me to answer Clayton’s questions.
I willed myself to fully return to the dungeon. Behind my closed eyelids, the image of my prison bloo
med to life. I shuddered as it solidified around me, and I was once again immersed in the horror of that place.
“The walls and floor were concrete. There was a cage. A cross. Chains.”
Whips. Bruises. Tears. Blood.
I touched my fingers to my neck where I felt the phantom weight of my iron collar.
“Pain.”
So much pain.
My lungs burned as I struggled to draw breath through my constricted windpipe.
Large hands cupped my cheeks, their warmth pushing back the cold that had seeped into my veins.
“Open your eyes, girl.”
I did as ordered, and I found silver eyes staring down at me rather than muddy green ones.
“Stay here with me,” Master commanded. “Breathe.”
I complied, drawing air into my oxygen-starved lungs.
“How long were you there?” Clayton’s voice drifted down to me.
I shook my head slightly. I didn’t know. Time meant nothing to me. There was no time. There was only the pain. And that never ended.
“That’s enough, Vaughn,” Master said sharply.
“We need to know more, James,” Clayton replied firmly. “It’s August 26, 2013,” he informed me. “When did you first go to that place?”
I had been there forever, for my entire existence. She had arrived there. She had a life before that place.
She awoke in a cage. She wanted to escape. He beat her. He raped her.
“He took her there. She tried to get out. He wouldn’t let her go. He hurt her.”
A sob ripped its way up my throat. I couldn’t remember her. I couldn’t.
Master’s arms wrapped around me, their strength enfolding me, sheltering me. I buried my face against his chest, and my fingers twined into the fabric of his shirt as I clutched at him.
“Master,” I whispered desperately, voicing his title aloud to reassure myself that he was real. I belonged to him now, and I would never be forced to go back to that place.
This time he didn’t admonish me for saying the word.
“It’s okay, little one. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe with me.” His deep voice rumbled over my skin like a soothing balm.
“James.” Clayton’s sharply spoken word was imbued with warning.
“Get out, Vaughn,” Master growled.
“You can’t let her call you ‘Master.’” Heat colored Clayton’s usually calm tone. “She doesn’t understand what that means. Not in the same way you understand it.”
“I know that,” Master snapped. “But she needs this.”
I clung to Master more tightly. I couldn’t allow Clayton to convince him to leave me. I peeked up at Master’s friend, staring into his blue eyes imploringly.
“Please. I’m sorry I said ‘Master.’ I know it’s against the rules. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll be good.”
The light in Clayton’s eyes was deeply sad and more than a little horrified. “Okay,” he conceded. “It’s okay, Jane. No one is going to punish you. But you can’t call Smith ‘Master.’ You’re not a slave.”
My mind couldn’t comprehend his firm declaration. If I wasn’t a slave, then I didn’t know what I was. I didn’t know how to exist as anything else. The concept of no longer belonging to Master terrified me. I brushed Clayton’s words from my conscious mind.
He glanced over at Master. “I suppose you’re going to stay here again tonight.”
“Yes,” Master replied roughly. “And don’t you dare try to tell me not to.”
Clayton shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that. I think it’s actually a good thing that you’re staying.”
Master’s arms tightened around me. I turned my face into his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. It was warm and rich with a hint of a sharp edge, like a smooth whiskey that burns deliciously as it slides down your throat.
“I’ll see you in the morning, then, Smith,” Clayton said, weariness roughening his voice.
“Definitely,” Master growled. “We’re going to catch the Bastard. I thought he had taken advantage of her, but he fucking abducted her, Clayton.”
“I know. We’ll bring in the guys from NYPD Missing Persons.”
“I won’t turn down the extra manpower, but this is our collar, Clayton. We’re going to be the ones who bring him in. I won’t let the NYPD treat him gently.”
“Agreed,” Clayton said firmly. His chair scraped against the floor as he stood to leave. I didn’t watch him as he walked away; I kept my face firmly pressed against Master’s chest.
“Clayton,” Master called after his friend. “Thanks.”
I breathed Master’s scent in greedily as Clayton’s footsteps retreated, allowing him to claim all of my senses. No matter what Clayton said, I belonged to Master. And I wasn’t ever going to let anyone take me from him.
Over the next four days, Master guided me through the challenges of my new life. My schedule was carefully regimented, and Master’s orders for compliance with Susan’s wishes made tackling the unfamiliar less terrifying.
The greatest difficulties came from the requests of the FBI agents who came to see me. A strange woman came to take my fingerprints. I would have been frightened of her touch if Master hadn’t assured me that my compliance would please him.
It was much more difficult to obey the sketch artist. She wanted to know what that Bastard looked like, and recalling his appearance in detail had been traumatic. Master held me for hours afterward, stroking my hair and whispering words of comfort. He didn’t say it aloud, but his touch and promise of safety reassured me that I belonged to him now.
Clayton came to check in on me frequently, but he didn’t ask me any more painful questions. Truthfully, he seemed to watch Master just as carefully as he assessed my own well-being. I appreciated that he wanted to look out for Master, and I found his presence comforting. Clayton was always so kind and calm. He laughed easily, and even Master’s more prickly comments seemed to roll right off him.
A psychologist came to see me once, but – much to Susan’s disapproval – Master scared her off. Master and Susan had a heated argument about it in the hallway just outside my room, but Susan finally backed down. It was decided that I should recover my physical strength before facing therapy. I was immensely grateful to Master for protecting me from the pain of facing my past.
He was so good to me, and he never asked me to do anything for him in return. All of his rules were established for my own benefit rather than his pleasure. I was puzzled by this arrangement, but I knew better than to question my Master. I eagerly accepted my new life, fully committing myself to serving Master and pleasing him through my obedience.
I dreaded the rising sun; daylight meant Master’s absence. He stayed with me every night, and the pang in my heart that accompanied his departure in the morning troubled me throughout the long hours until he returned.
Now that pang had sharpened to the cut of a twisting knife. Darkness had fallen hours earlier, but Master had yet to return to me. He had called around sunset to let me know that he was going to work late. He wanted so badly to track down the man who had hurt me, and apparently the FBI had found a promising lead. I didn’t care about that, but it wasn’t my place to question Master’s wishes.
Susan had agreed to stay with me until Master could come back to me. She had been with me since the crack of dawn, and lines of exhaustion appeared around her eyes as midnight approached.
The clinic had gone quiet. Only minimal staff stayed on to cover the night shift, and the usual bustle in the hallway outside my room had lowered to intermittent hushed conversations. Laughter emanated from the TV in my room. Susan had put on some sitcom to help distract me from my growing anxiety, but the rapid-fire jokes exchanged by the beautiful people on the screen were lost on me.
Susan yawned widely and glanced at her watch. Sighing, she turned off the TV and stood, stretching her muscles.
“I’m going to get a cup of coffee, Jane,” she informed me softly. �
��And don’t worry. I’m going to call Agent James to find out where he is. I promise I’ll make him come see you soon. In the meantime, close your eyes and try to get some sleep.”
I knew it would be impossible to fall asleep without Master’s warmth beside me, but Susan had given me an order. Compliantly, I closed my eyes as she turned to leave my room. I did my best to brush off my uneasiness at being left completely alone. I knew Susan would be back soon, and she was going to call Master. She would convince him to return to me. I took several deep breaths and tried to push down my rising panic.
A hand clamped down on my mouth, long fingers digging harshly into my cheeks. Despite Susan’s order, my eyes snapped open as fear shocked my system.
The sick light in his muddy green eyes made bile rise in the back of my throat along with choking terror.
“Don’t make a sound, whore,” my former master whispered menacingly.
Chapter 6
No.
He couldn’t be here. Master had promised that the Bastard would never touch me again. But his cruel grip on my jaw and the savagely pleased smile that twisted his lips were all too real.
“You’re going to come with me quietly, slave. If you resist me or try to call for help, your punishment will be even more severe.”
His chilling words threatened to make my muscles freeze. But I had to fight him. I couldn’t allow him to take me from Master. I didn’t belong to him anymore, and I didn’t have to obey him.
I struggled beneath him, clutching at his arm in an effort to free myself from his grip. His hand only left my mouth for an instant before it cracked across my cheek.
Pain and the taste of coppery blood ripped me from the present. The warmly-lit room that was my new reality swirled around me as my head spun.
It wasn’t real. It had never been real. It was just a harsh trick that the Bastard – no, he was Master – had played on me to give me cruel hope that my life could be less painful. He had told me He was taking me to Decadence to test me. All of this had been a test. And I knew I had failed.
