Page 84 of Volatile Waters

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Influencing the Master

Even though I had chastised Kirill for implying Fire was more to me than a slave, I ignored the fact I was rushing to get into her new home. “Good morning, Little Treasure.” It wasn’t morning, but the greeting seemed appropriate since my new slave had slept for so long. Meh. She would never know the difference, having been locked away in a basement.

Angels were far from being a part of my world, but I felt as though I was witnessing one wake as Fire sat up and pulled the dirty blanket to her clothed chest. Fantastic eyes blinked and peeked out from under perfectly disheveled long, red curls. She looked petrified, yet I could sense her inner strength. I pushed away Wolf’s theory that I was a good man and smiled because this felt right to me. This, torturing a new slave, was what I knew best.

“P-Please, don’t call me that.”

I had no intention of continuing to do so. It was only said to rile her and to open conversation for the new name I had already picked. But I truly enjoyed her will. She was dazed with the substance I had drugged her with yet still had the capacity to make a demand.

After shutting the door, I unfolded my chair and sat down, eager to finally learn about the one who had undisciplined me. “Since you said please, I will grant your request. Any suggestions on what I should call you?”

“A cab?”

I’m not sure how long I sat there, stunned at her bravery, before I chuckled with pleased laughter. She was far more entertaining than I even expected under these circumstances. “I’m afraid that cannot be, but we could come up with another name. So far, I’ve been enjoying Fire.”

She was beyond frightened; I could tell by her slight tremble as she wrapped her toned arms around muscular legs and pulled them to her chest, but that didn’t stop her audacity to shrug as if my nickname was acceptable. My hunger grew. “You can call me Master.” Fire was proving to be my most fascinating pet as she stared at me with disdain. “No?” I winked. “Don’t fear. You will see it my way, eventually. Until then, Fire, do you have any questions?”

“My chances of escaping?”

My mouth watered with her twisted humor because it was a sign that she may, someday, handle my lifestyle. So, I reciprocated. “Alive?”

She mumbled, “Yes, being alive would be a plus.”

“None.” This was the truth. I wasn’t giving her up unless she was in a body bag and her beautiful figure was decaying. Fuck Wolf and his assumptions.

“My chances of you having a change of heart? Setting me free?”

I thought of Wolf and how he was hoping for the same chance that I knew would never come. “It is very possible I have no heart.”

I believe my honesty spoke to the fear she had attempted to hide. She finally sounded vulnerable when she said, “Yury, why am I here?”

Instead of continuing to focus on her desperation, I internally jolted. “You know my name?” Fucking Mr. Jones and his goddamn PI. “How unfortunate. Refrain from using that name. Only Master.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “In the hotel room, you said you wanted to profit off me. There is no way you could make enough to make all this hassle worthwhile. So, tell me the truth. You got the paperwork you wanted from my house. And you’ve killed two people dear to me. What else do you want?”

I stared at her as I thought of how unpredictable I had become since I’d seen her dance. I thought about how much power she truly had over me, and we had yet to begin. I thought how much I didn’t want her to have such influence, but my desire for her had become too debilitating. “Wants and needs are not the same.”

“Then what do you need from me?”

Freedom. I think, deep down, I appreciated her vigor because I lacked it. Yes, I had a gun and was considered deadly and dangerous, but deep down, I was realizing I was as much of a slave as my pets were. Yet, I didn’t know how to change my circumstance, nor was I confident I had the courage to do so. I couldn’t just drive off into the sunset like Wolf suggested. The cost would be detrimental. All I had known would then change. Was I prepared for the unknown path? How were Timothy and Crash so willing to step into that unknown, death, for the sake of another? I explained, “Someone made the ultimate sacrifice for you. I… need to know why?”

“What are you talking about?” Her cheeks went crimson, telling me she was well aware of what I was asking. And that she was carrying much guilt for the sacrifice I was questioning.

To be cruel—to start getting her adapted to her training that would soon be underway—I pulled out the iPad, tapped the screen on the correct video, and handed it to her, then sat back to study her reactions. Watching what was playing—the conversation between Crash and myself that had sent me into a tirade in the garage—she immediately burst into tears.

Fascinating.

Crash’s voice echoed in the confined area. “Have you ever listened to someone sleep?”

While the video continued, I took notice when Fire let out a slight moan of agony. At one point, her eyes raced to mine. Too entranced with her reactions to hear what Crash said to get her emotional, I gestured for her to keep watching.

As her whole body started to shift, her legs rubbing against each other in some sort of measure of anxiety, I focused on what Crash was saying. “…Link would give his life for the girl who was clinging to me in her sleep.”

It was as if Fire was reliving the memory with him, and it was making her skin crawl. She abruptly pushed pause, leaned her head back against the wall behind her bed, and struggled to breathe. Anguished, she asked me, “Why? Why is he telling you this?”

I was mystified to how a memory could bring forth such emotion. I was also mystified at how hearing Crash’s voice was like walking through a desert full of blazing hot sand with no shoes. I asked, “You are in pain?”