What’s the question?
Saf
What color are my eyes?
I freeze, my pulse skyrocketing. She can’t know. How could she?
Grace
Lol. Why are you asking me that? You think I don’t know what color my best friend’s eyes are?
Saf
No. I don’t. Because I don’t think I’m talking to Grace. She doesn’t have her passport, asshole. She can’t leave the country.
Who are you and what the FUCK have you done with Grace?
I slam the phone onto the ground, crushing it beneath the heel of my boot.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!
I rub a palm over my face, all too aware of the pressure building behind my eyes. What did I think would happen? Ofcourseher best friend would realize it wasn’t actually Grace texting her. Now, she’s going to go to the police and cause an unnecessary scene.
It’s not like I can just kill her, either. Grace wouldneverforgive me if I was the reason any harm came to her friend. It’s the easiest, logical solution, and I can’t take it.
“Fuck,” I murmur, closing my eyes as my head begins to throb. “What a mess…”
The only thing that makes me feel better is the knowledge that Saffron would have called the police eventually. I was just hoping for a few days without having to worry about it.
And honestly, there’s a good chance I’llstillhave a while before I have to be concerned about the police actively looking for Grace. They’re not the most proactive people, and Saffron will have to make quite a scene to get them to actually do their jobs.
I let out a breath, slightly calmer now that I’ve thought things through.
Pushing thoughts of Saffron and the police from my mind, I move into the kitchen, pulling off the laminated list hanging from the freezer door. I move my forefinger down the list, debating which of Grace’s favorite meals to prepare for her tonight. I’ve been taking copious notes on her preferences over the past few weeks—about food and all manner of things—and I printed them off so I can make sure Grace has the easiest possible process settling into her new life.
Hmm.Something sweet and light. Her stomach could be upset from the sedative, and I don’t want my angel to get sick.
With a satisfied nod, I make a mental list of the ingredients I’ll need for the week and head out to pick them up from the store. I keep my eye on the camera feed the entire time I’m gone—no more than twenty minutes—but it feels like an eternity to be so far away from her.
As soon as I’m home, I can breathe easier. Grace sits like such a good girl in her cage, not fighting or screaming or anything that would warrant correction. I smile as I lay out theingredients on my countertop, hoping she’ll enjoy the dinner I’m preparing.
I kneel in front of the bars, placing the plate carefully onto the ground beside me. Grace’s eyes flick toward the fruit spread, and her tongue darts out, swiping across her lower lip.
“Is my angel hungry?” I ask, plucking a strawberry off the plate. Opening the feeding slot, I slip my hand through, inching the ripe berry toward her lips. “Go on. Take a bite.”
Grace’s mouth tips in a small grin, and my chest constricts at the beauty of it. She leans toward me slowly, her lips parting as she goes to take a bite of the food I’m offering.So sweet. So precious?—
“Ow! Fuck!” I rip my hand back, dropping the strawberry in the process. Shock replaces the heady desire flowing through my system as I stare at the trickle of blood running down Grace’s lip.
“Youbitme.”
“So it seems.” There’s a manic gleam in her eye as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing red across her cheek. The sight of this vicious creature covered in my blood has my cock hardening, and I have to bite my cheek to stifle a groan.
“Such a bad girl.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out a small black controller. “And bad girls get punished.” I press the red button at the top of the device, delivering an electric shock, and Grace jerks back with a pained cry.
Frantic, she reaches up to her neck, her fingers desperately clawing at the shock collar strapped tight to her throat. Smirking, I touch the button twice more, and Grace falls back against the bars, her body convulsing from the electricity coursing through her system.
“Are you ready to behave?” I reach forward to run my bloodied fingers over the bars. “I want you to be good for me, I do. But I can’t deny I get a sick enjoyment out of seeing you this way. So vulnerable and sweet. A little rag doll just for me to play with.”
