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Don’t be late.
“I don’t want to do this,” I whisper to no one but myself before glancing at my phone screen. 8:55pm. Shit, I need to get moving.
I scramble to get changed while wiping my makeup off at the same time, before ripping my buns out and quickly brushing my hair. I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror, seeing a girl that holds nothing but misery in her eyes.
“You can do this,” I whisper to the girl, but she doesn’t look convinced.
Then I turn and leave the barn.
Hurrying up the back path, I round the pool area and tap on the back door that is usually a glass door, but tonight it’s boarded up like the glass has recently been smashed.
There’s no sign of Brock, the shirtless waiters, or even Madam Vik, though. Master Hill answers the door wearing the typical suit he seems to live in, his creepy brown eyes raking over my practically naked body as I stand outside trying to fight the trembles that shudder through me.
I’m scared. Like terrified. This man has always seemed like a predator. There’s just something about him that reminds me of Brian. It could be the way they both look at me or the fact they have the same coloured eyes. I don’t know what it is exactly, but they remind me of each other. All predators are the same, I guess.
“Right on time, Kitten. Please come in.”
Master Hill takes a step back, gesturing for me to enter, and I hold my breath as I step over the threshold, dread filling my veins. I feel like I’ll never see daylight again.
28
Rhys
The lights are too bright, and the house is too quiet. Normally when I come here on a Feast night, the lights are dimmed, there is music playing, and the rooms are filled with naked bodies. Tonight, the only near-naked body is mine, while the stark lights shine down on my every curve as I sit in the living area with the only other person in this house. Master Hill.
“I have a proposition for you.” His deep voice sends a repulsive shiver up my spine, and I twist my hands together in my lap as I stare at the swell of his nose and the purple tinge in each corner of his eye.
I don’t say anything in response to his statement, but I raise my brows in question, so he continues.
“I want you to return to the Feast nights under a new sponsor.”
I frown. “Skipper is my sponsor.”
“Not anymore. I have allocated you a new one.”
I swallow back the lump forming in my throat, already hating this conversation. “Who?” My eyes move from his obvious broken nose to the cut on his lip.
“Tiger.”
“No way!” I hiss, forgetting about his face and my worries as rage fills me. “That creepoid is not being my sponsor. I’d rather resign as a Feast member.”
“That’s not going to work for me, Kitten. You either return to the Feasts with Tiger as your sponsor, or I expose Skipper for the student-fucking teacher he is.”
“You arsehole!” I snap, my fists balled in my lap.
Master Hill eyes me silently for a moment. The way his jaw clicks is the only sign that my response has bothered him before he speaks.
“So I’ve been told.” He waves his hand and shifts forward in the armchair across from me, leaning his suited arms on his legs. “It’s either Tiger orme, Kitten. Who would you rather be your sponsor?”
“Skipper.” Jutting my chin up, I let him see my defiance, my fear slipping away as more anger replaces it.
He chuckles, resting back in the chair again. “My final proposition is Madam Vik as your sponsor,plusan hour alone with me each Feast downstairs. Agree to this, and I’ll leave your teacher alone. Disagree, and I’ll expose him to the world.”
I hate him. Like, really hate him. So much so that the lamp sitting on the table next to him looks like a good fucking weapon to beat his skull in with. My pulse is raging in my ears as I fight to rein in my temper.
“What will our time alone entail?” I grit out through clenched teeth, and he grins.
“I’ll show you.” He stands, gesturing for me to stand too, but I hesitate.
