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I stare at the door. He’s hiding something from me behind it. But whatever it is, I don’t want to be in here alone when it arrives.
So I stand and walk awkwardly to the bathroom.
Enzo shuts the door and locks it, something he never does. I stand silently as Enzo begins removing his jacket and tie.
“How was the car ride with Langston? Did he drive as cautiously as I told him to?”
Why is he asking about Langston? We seldom talk about normal things.
“It was fine. Yes, he drove like a grandma.” Even though it didn’t help me trust him or feel safe.
“Good. Has his eye started turning black and blue yet from my punch?”
“No, it was just swollen and red.”
“Damn, I didn’t hit him hard enough then,” he smirks, a hint of a dimple on his cheek showing.
I open my mouth to thank him again for preventing his touch, but then I remember he told me to stop thanking him, so I don’t.
Enzo kicks out of his shoes, leaving them a mess on the floor. It isn’t like Enzo. He’s organized and controlled. He usually hangs or folds his clothes when he’s done with them. Even the dirty ones are folded in a pile for Westcott to collect.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
He frowns. “I’m talking to you like a normal person while I get undressed.”
“Except we don’t do normal.”
He shrugs.
The bedroom door slams. I flinch.
He sighs. “We can go back to the bedroom now.” He hasn’t finished getting undressed for bed. He’s still wearing his shirt and slacks, but since it was just a distraction anyway, it doesn’t matter.
I unlock the door and open it, terrified of what I will find. The way I’m acting, you would think there would be a wild animal on the other side ready to attack me.
I open the door but don’t notice anything different about the room. The room is empty; no animal or person jumps out at me. I hesitantly enter the room, and that’s when I notice the bed.
It has a different mattress on it than before. The covers have been removed and replaced with silk, thin and light. There is no comforter or blanket on the bed. And the pillows look like rocks.
“What’s this?” I ask.
Enzo steps behind me, staring at the new bed.
“I’m fucking tired of sleeping on the floor. So I found the hardest, most uncomfortable bed I could find for us to try.”
Us.
That word is dangerous. There is no us. No we.
There is Enzo, the man whose last name fits him—Black, like his heart. My new master who will soon snap and stop treating me like his damaged queen.
And then there is me—the woman filled with secrets and shame.
There is no us.
Us would mean we have a future together. Us means he thinks of me as more than his property. Us means I forgive him. And I can never do that. No matter how kind he’s being, I can’t forget about the cruelty inside.
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