Dollars (Dollar #2)

by Pepper Winters

  I don’t know anything anymore.

  I’m tired.

  I’m lost.

  I’m alone.

  Even No One can’t help me figure this out.

  Angry tears once again tickled my spine. I spindled tighter, a shrapnel detonation just looking for an outlet to explode.

  I need…help.

  I need time.

  I need…

  I didn’t know what I needed. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t this life. It wasn’t even kindness anymore.

  I’m past that.

  I’m screwed up.

  I’m angry. So damn angry.

  I wanted to take that anger out on someone. I wanted to rip and tear and scream at what I’d endured and what I’d become.

  My breathing escalated until my lungs burned and my entire body trembled. My spoon hovered over the soup (soup I didn’t want because it would add yet more pain), doing my best to stuff down the overwhelming insanity brewing like lava in my blood.

  I need to leave.

  I need to be alone before I snap.

  Gulping back the tsunami of messy rage, I clamped down on my shaking and waited for him to say something—anything—to distract me from my rapidly twitching madness.

  But he didn’t.

  He merely watched me with that deadly poise—noticing my shaking, my breathing—most likely seeing the fire incinerating my brokenness inside.

  “Take it easy. Nothing can hurt you here.”

  Wrong!

  My eyes shot to his as the lava bubbled and popped.

  You can.

  And you will.

  Stop lying to me.

  Tell me what you mean to do with me.

  Put me out of my goddamn misery.

  Elder stiffened, his body becoming ice-calm. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s making you upset. I suggest you stop.”

  Stop?!

  When did that word ever mean anything?

  When did Alrik stop?

  When did you stop?

  When will all of this fucking stop!

  A panic attack slithered around my ribcage, waking from its sleep to torment me. The soul-sucking terror licked its way up my throat, squeezing…clawing.

  My fingers latched around the spoon. The room etched with darkness as air became a much-needed commodity.

  “Pim…stop. Relax.”

  I couldn’t relax. Not now. Not now the itchy panic had multiplied in size and dribbled into my belly as well as my throat.

  I flinched as Elder leaned toward me.

  I gasped as he narrowed his eyes.

  “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re dealing with.”

  My spine shot stiff.

  Tell you?

  Speak to you?

  Why?

  You won’t understand.

  You won’t help.

  Stampeding tears blurred the world, making him dance and jig.

  “Okay, if you’re determined not to talk, what do you need? I’ve given you food and clothing. I’ve given you a bed and peace. What more do you fucking want from me?”

  His roar hacked through my whirlpool of hysteria, dragging me back from the suffocating clouds.

  Pointing at my quaking body, he snarled, “You’re acting as if this is a torture session. It’s not. It’s just dinner. Remember those? When people talk over food and answer questions when asked? Fuck, Pim. Stop looking at me as if I’m him. I’m not fucking him. Got it?!”

  My gaze turned sniper sharp. Contorted snowflakes filled the holes left by my panic attack.

  Excuse me if I’m not comfortable.

  Excuse me if I struggle to see only dinner and not a game to play.

  Excuse me if I’m not eloquent and your perfect guest!

  Elder rolled his eyes. “While we’re on the topic of normal behaviour, let’s talk about that dress. It’s a goddamn sack on you. You need to eat, and I’ll buy you better fitting clothes. Just because you were a slave doesn’t mean you have to look like one.”

  Air hissed through my nose. Snowflakes turned to ice picks, dying to stab him over and over again.

  How dare you!

  My skinniness is abhorrent to you?

  Why fucking rescue me then?

  Elder continued, his own anger blind to mine. “He might’ve starved and beaten you, silent one, but I expect you to resemble a woman, not an animal. Next time we’re in port, I’ll arrange for underwear and other clothing. But in the meantime, I expect you to trust what I goddamn say and stop flinching whenever I raise my arm and speak to me. Fucking get over your silence and grow up.”

  My back locked in revulsion.

  I’m an animal now?

  My panic attack switched to an erupting volcano of hate.

  I’ll show you what an animal I am. I won’t grow up. I am grown up. I’m older than you’ll ever be. And if you try to make me wear underwire and tight lace after a lifetime of scars and bruises, I’ll kill you.

  My teeth ground together.

  You hear me?

  You want me to wear tight clothing? You want to destroy me?

  No!

  Rashness overrode my brain. My hand soared up, yanking off the strap clinging loosely to my shoulder. It slid down and down. My fear-hardened nipple was the only thing keeping the weightless garment from revealing my full breast.

  Elder froze, his gaze locking onto the bruised skin. “Christ, what are you doing?”

  I bared my teeth.

  Being an animal.

  “Fuck, you really don’t understand, do you?” Smooth as syrup, he leaned forward and plucked the strap from my elbow. His fingernails threatened my paper-thin skin, slipping the strap slowly, ever so slowly, up my arm to rest on the hollow of my neck and shoulder.

  His face was obsidian with no sign of light or sanity. “Don’t push me. I warned you, Pim. I’m doing my best around you, but if you pull a fucking stunt like that again, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  His palm cupped my shoulder, his flesh kissing my flesh. His face came millimetres from mine. “Whatever issues you’re going through, don’t take them out on me. Otherwise, I’ll have to return the favour and take my issues out on you.” He chuckled with black undertones. “And if I do that, you’ll know the truth about me. You’ll know that Alrik was playing make believe while I’m the true villain.”

  Saliva dried up. My tongue swelled with pain.

  For the first time, I believed what he said. For the first time, he didn’t hide whatever he battled. He let me look inside him, and I didn’t like what I saw.

  He wasn’t a gentleman. He wasn’t refined.

  He was chaos and uncultured and dying to be free to invoke whatever calamity he needed to inflict.

  No…

  Goosebumps scattered as his fingers stroked my shoulder, reminding me he still held me, still owned me. Terror transformed to horror as my eyes flickered from his lips to his gaze.

  He didn’t move, letting me draw my own conclusions—to read between the lines of what he would never say, but I felt. I felt every word, every threat, and it didn’t pacify me, it made me want to bolt from the room and throw myself into the sea.

  Running his finger under the strap, he bent and kissed my shoulder. He’d touched me before. He’d kissed me before. Yet that simple readjustment of my clothes was more erotic than anything we’d ever done.

  “You still want to go to war with me, silent mouse?” Elder leaned back in his chair, making the ornate wood creak with his large bulk.

  Don’t call me mouse!

  “Are you so repulsed by me that you’re willing to push me until I push back? Is it so bad to be cared for when the entire time I give you sanctuary, I want to take so much more in return?”

  I stopped breathing.

  He buffed his fingernails on his t-shirt. “I didn’t want to have to be so stern with you, but it seems I don’t have a choice.”

  My sniff made his black eyes sharpen. “All I ask of you is politeness, obedience, a
nd eventually your voice. Three things that won’t hurt you or reduce you to something you’re not.”

  I shivered at how easily he delivered his terms. How simple he made them sound when they were some of the hardest requests for me.

  “You do that, and I’ll be able to keep my distance and treat you kindly. Don’t, and you’ll regret it.”

  You’re hiding behind obscurity.

  Don’t threaten with vagueness.

  Tell me what you’ll do.

  Gritting my teeth, I plopped the spoon into the soup and swirled it around. I had no intention of eating. My tongue was a constant reminder of what I’d almost lost by being brave. Elder had made it his mission to heal and cure me. But for what?

  It was the not knowing that burrowed like a mole through my mind, bringing dark tunnels of recklessness. Bravery no longer had anything to do with it.

  It was a matter of survival.

  My previous questions came chugging back on a steam train, railroading me with coal smoke and speed.

  What do you want?

  Tell me.

  Right now.

  Tell me you’ll sell me. Hurt me. Use me.

  Tell me you’ll free me.

  Tell me what you’ll do if I disobey.

  Just tell me so I can decide if I want to fight you, obey you, or throw myself off the bow of your ship and end it once and for all.

  I wasn’t aware my anger had overflowed physically until the spoon shot from my fingers, splashing green goo all over the pristine table.

  My shoulders rolled as I hunched for a beating. It would be a good one. I’d never been allowed at the table for this exact reason. I wasn’t worthy of human tools because I was too dim-witted and merely an animal to be used when it suited its owner.

  He called me an animal.

  Whatever attraction or pride I thought I’d seen in his gaze was gone now we’d finally been honest.

  Elder didn’t move.

  The gentle rustle of his black t-shirt was the only noise as he breathed deep and evenly, never taking his eyes off me. “What were you thinking about to warrant wasting your food? Food, I may add, that should be in your stomach to replace everything you’ve lost from being with him.”

  I dared to look up, staring, staring at the mess I’d made.

  I couldn’t make myself care what would come next. I couldn’t bring myself to bow in apology or beg in forgiveness. The anger that I’d kept locked up so damn tight for years poured from the vault where I’d banished it. The foreign tightness—the strange daredevil baring its teeth inside me—it all embraced me as if to say ‘please never forget again.’

  Never let yourself merely exist.

  Fight.

  Or die.

  No more surviving.

  No more accepting.

  My fingers dug into my palm as my fists squeezed—even my broken hand did its best to curl with rage at how long I’d lived in hell and how much I hated myself for letting it continue.

  Why didn’t I kill myself sooner? Why didn’t I kill him sooner?

  Because he took every option away!

  You tried, remember?

  Time already clouded the past, making it seem like I had other options than the truth. It shattered me because it made me even weaker when I’d believed I’d been so strong.

  There was nothing you could do.

  But now, now it is different, and you will not bow to another.

  Not again.

  If Elder expected me to serve him, fuck him, and be at his beck and call. I would jump overboard tonight. Not because I had nothing left to give but because I was finally brave enough to say no.

  Even if it meant saying no to any more tomorrows or yesterdays.

  No more!

  Elder murmured, “What’s going on inside that mind of yours?”

  I snarled.

  He stiffened. “You look as if you want to go back and kill him all over again.” He cocked his head, inspecting my every inhale, exhale, and twitch. “Are you angry that I came back for you? Do you wish I hadn’t, so you could’ve ended your life, rather than face something new?”

  You don’t know me.

  Get out of my damn head!

  “So that’s what this is about. You’re angry.”

  I wanted to tear out his eyes at how condescending he made it sound. I was more than just angry. I was rage itself. I was the harbinger of vehemence.

  You think you can scare and belittle me?

  Wrong.

  I’m done with these parlour tricks.

  He smiled coldly, no kindness left in his face. “Anger is expected after what you’ve lived through.” He leaned forward, whip sharp and brutal. “But if you think for one fucking moment you can take it out on me, you’ll be severely disappointed.”

  My chest rose and fell as I breathed harder than I had in years. My bruised ribs bleated with agony.

  “If I didn’t recognise that fire in your gaze, I would think you missed that godforsaken hellhole.”

  I froze.

  You think I liked being beaten?

  You think I enjoyed being a slave?

  Elder pushed his fork with his index finger, sedate and sly. “You knew the rules there. You knew everything there was to know about the bastard who called himself Master. You knew what to expect and when.”

  His black eyes locked me against the hard chair. “You miss predictability even if that predictability would’ve killed you, either by his hand or yours.”

  Silence fell, littered with secrets.

  He didn’t speak for a few seconds. Running his hand through thick blue-black hair, he whispered, “You pulled the trigger. I watched you take his life happily. You threw off those invisible chains even while you bled out from the wound he inflicted.” His voice dropped to a murmur, “But that wasn’t the moment you ended predictability, Pimlico. You did that before becoming a murderer.”

  I sucked in a breath as he stroked his lips with feather-soft fingers. “You did that the moment you kissed me back.”

  My tongue twinged as I swallowed hard.

  “You changed your future the moment you let me into your bed.”

  I didn’t let you.

  I had no choice.

  Licking his bottom lip, Elder smiled coldly. “I feel you trying to read me, silent mouse. I feel you probing me, watching me; don’t think I don’t. You want—no, you need—to know what I’m going to do to you. Your questions are so fucking loud they’re making me deaf.”

  Standing, he pushed away from the table and paced, looking between me and the spilled soup. “But you won’t learn who I am until you give me what I want in return.”

  Determination suddenly etched his face as he stalked toward a sideboard holding a massive candelabra with eight tapered candles and wrenched open a drawer.

  Two seconds later, he slammed down a matching notepad and pen. Pushing aside my bowl, he stabbed his fingers at the fresh paper. “Speak to me.”

  I cringed but didn’t hunch. I couldn’t keep track of my thoughts. Yesterday, I’d drowned in gratefulness for what he’d done for me. Today, I suffocated in suspicion of his true agenda. And anger. So. Much. Anger. Rage licked me faster and faster, turning my thoughts to ash.

  “Talk to me, Pimlico. That’s the least you owe me for what I’ve done for you.”

  Done for me?

  What are you going to do to me?

  Let’s talk about that!

  My fingers itched for the pen but not to speak to him. To speak to No One. To ask my unknown, unseen friend what I should make of this new prison and master. Should I run? Should I kill? Should I do neither and submit instead?

  The longer Elder kept me wrapped in safety, building my debt to him with every breath, the more I spiralled out of control. I’d lived with such fierce unbreakable boundaries for too long. I knew how to survive Alrik. I knew how to read him. I knew how to prepare for punishment. And I knew how to glue back my shattered pieces afterward. That was it. I didn’t know h
ow to endure anyone else.

  And why should I have to persevere with another?

  I didn’t know how to be Pimlico in this new world. I had no idea who I’d end up becoming. How could I be something Elder wanted when I had no idea what that was?

  Then don’t be Pim.

  Be someone else.

  But who?

  I needed to become someone who could outlast, outsmart Elder Prest.

  But I don’t know who he is!

  Trembling began again. Swift and severe.

  My body betrayed me as more and more confusion plaited with anger. I hated that I had a psychical reaction to Elder as he loomed over me, his hot breath fluttering my eyelashes, his demands crushing me.

  “Write what it is that you want.” He took the pen, ripped the lid off, and grabbed my hand.

  I didn’t flinch as he inserted the cool plastic between my fingers, making me grip it. “Write what you’re thinking. Write one fucking word, and that will be good enough for now.”

  He stepped back.

  I held the pen, but I didn’t attempt to obey.

  Words flew from my head. Spelling no longer part of my education. The trembling grew and grew until my teeth chattered and bumped against my swollen tongue. The unfinished panic attack howled with fresh freedom.

  I flinched as pain hit from sharp incisors followed by the faint taste of blood.

  “Christ,” Elder hissed. “I’m not going to hurt you. How many times do I need to tell you that?”

  That’s a lie.

  You just admitted it!

  I threw the pen down, steeling myself to look up at him. My teeth clamped again on my swollen tongue by accident. My gag reflex reacted as another wash of metallic made me grimace. A small trickle of blood escaped my cracked lips, staining my chin and splashing in accusation on the notepad.

  He inhaled sharply, staring at the bright red droplet.

  He wanted a reply?

  He’d earned a reply.

  In blood.

  “Stand,” he barked.

  I obeyed, pushing my chair back a little. Having his wrath finally unleashed was…not comforting but known.

  This is what I’m used to.

  I could handle his anger because I could predict what came next and could turn off my mind. Self-preservation kicked in, and soon, I’d be free. Soon, my soul would clamp down and vanish deep inside.

  Thank God.