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“Yes, I understand.”
He stares at me blankly with his hand still on my chin, and when the silence grows awkward, I blurt out, “Yes, I understand, sir.”
Lorenzo gives a small smile and removes his hand. “Good, Kitty. Now,” He rests his arm over the sink and picks up the needle. “Help.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and I shift toward him and tentatively reach for his arm. When I pinch the skin, I look at him, expecting him to cringe, but he remains impassive.
“Both hands so you’re not in my way.”
With a breath, I push the skin together with both hands. He goes to work with the needle, stitching up the wound with ease. Too much ease.
How many times has he done this?
I open my mouth to ask about his scars, but promptly close it. That’s an insulting thing to ask about, and I’m already fucking up my chances of survival as it is. I have no idea what he plans to do with me, but if he’s on the fence about killing me, I’m making it easy for him. I’ve seen his face. Hell, I know hisname. Who he is. Where to find him. He’d be a fool to simply let me walk out of here when he’s done with me. Maybe he thinks threatening me will work.
It would.
Lorenzo finishes up the stitching and dabs at the gash with antiseptic before placing a fresh bandage over it. He glances up at me, and I look away.
“Let’s go, Kitty.” He pats my thigh, and I hop down off the sink, my head down as I follow him back to the bedroom. I spot the collar, and my hands instinctively lift to my neck.
“Don’t worry, I have a different one for you.”
I snap my head toward him and lower my hands to my sides. He pulls out a collar from the brown paper bag and holds it up. It’s black with studded diamonds embedded in it and a silver loop dead center.
He walks toward me, and I can’t help it when I take a step back. He pauses and I look toward the floor while crossing my arms over my chest.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice breaking. My eyes begin to water, and I’m thankful I let my hair grow out. It veils my face.
He walks the rest of the way toward me and turns me around. I let out a whimper and throw my hand to my mouth to muffle any more sounds that may try to escape. I don’t want him to see me cry any more than he already has. It’s him winning at a game only one of us wants to play.
He brushes the hair off my shoulder, his knuckles grazing my skin. He cups both my shoulders and squeezes. It’s a gesture I don’t expect from him, and I equally don’t expect the way my body responds to it. I lean into him, my back hitting a wall of muscle.
With that, he tenses. He moves me forward, gently pushing me off him. Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I shrink as if my body is trying to hide from my own embarrassment.
Lorenzo lifts my hair and wraps the collar around my neck. I lift my hands to the collar then lower them when Lorenzo hums his disapproval.
“This one isn’t heavy. It shouldn’t hurt.”
“My neck is sore… please.”
Lorenzo ignores my plea and fastens the collar, letting my hair fall when he’s finished. I don’t miss that there’s no lock on this one, and I wonder if he knows I’ll remove it as soon as he leaves.
He spins me around and straightens the collar so that the metal loop is in the middle of my neck. He takes a step back to study it. It’s a little obsessive, but it doesn’t surprise me that Lorenzo wants things to be exact.
He meets my eyes, and I don’t look away this time. Ican’tlook away. The blank look on his face perplexes me, and I question if I imagined the moment of compassion from him. Maybe I’m already going crazy.
He takes off his watch and hands it to me. I take it hesitantly.
He nods toward the bag on the bed. “In there is an outfit I want you to have on by six o’clock this evening. Someone will be here to pick you up.”
“For what?”
“A party.”
My brow furrows in confusion but smoothes when Lorenzo steps up to me and grips my jaw tightly. The threat he hasn’t even given yet swims in his eyes, and I already know I’m going to give in to whatever he wants.
I am such a coward.
