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There’s only the sound of the two of us breathing hard. I open my eyes to look down at her. She’s flushed, sweaty. Her chest is heaving.
Because she came. She wants to get away from me, but she came. It didn’t even take that much work. It makes me smirk as I get off the bed to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. She lies still, staring at the ceiling while I wipe her clean.
“Now you know who’s in charge and what you owe me.” I glance up at her. She hasn’t moved. “Don’t try that shit again. You won’t like it so much next time.”
5
Bree
I hate myself. I hate my body and I hate myself.
I didn’t want to enjoy it. I wanted to kick him to death. I wanted to kill him for what he was doing.
But I came instead. I liked it. I wanted more.
It’s night now, though I don’t know exactly what time. There aren’t any clocks around here, and Sebastian is binge-watching some foreign show. It might be subtitled, but I can’t see the screen from where I’m tied up.
I can see him, though. He’s sitting in the middle of the couch with his arms stretched along the top of the cushions. His legs are stretched out and crossed at the ankle on the coffee table. He could be any guy hanging out after a long day at work.
Not a soul would guess he’s involved with human trafficking.
If he were a good guy, he would have taken me to the hospital and called the police. But I can’t worry about his decency. Right now, most of my worries are about my friends and family. They must be going through hell. Unless I can convince him to let me go soon—something tells me he never will—I have the feeling it’ll be him or me.
Because I refuse to spend the rest of my life tied to a bed. I will not be his sex slave or whatever he wants me to be. Sure, being passed around to a bunch of men would be hell, but that doesn’t mean having to submit to the guy on the couch would be so much better.
He’s angry. It’s written in the sharp line of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, the crease in his forehead. One foot keeps swinging back and forth in short little slashing motions. But he doesn’t take his eyes off the TV. I wonder if he’s really watching?
That’s all I have right now, questions. Why me? What’s so special about me? I don’t even know why it matters, but it does. I believe him now when he says he’d be in trouble if he showed his face, and I’m sure Jake would be dead set on delivering me to whoever wins me in the big auction.
What a sick thought.
I have no idea how much time passes before I can’t wait anymore. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I have to raise my voice over the TV, where canned audience laughter is loud enough to set my teeth on edge.
For a second, I think he didn’t hear me. He doesn’t give any indication of even being alive except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Then he heaves a sigh and gets up, drifting like the entire world rests on his shoulders.
I can’t look him in the eye. It’s too humiliating. I wish I hadn’t come. It almost seemed like he was laughing at me for getting into it. He leans over the edge of the bed and unties me—his hands are rough, working fast.
“Thank you,” I whisper, eyes downcast as I swing my legs over the side of the mattress. I’m stiff from sitting up for hours and it takes a second to loosen up.
“Maybe tomorrow we’ll go for a swim in the cove.” He mutters it, like a little kid who doesn’t want to speak but the grownups are forcing him into it. “You could use the exercise, I guess, and there’s no shower in here, anyway.”
“Is that how you usually wash up?” His head bobs up and down as he leads me by the arm to the bathroom. I wish the mental image of him standing naked in the water didn’t make my breath come quickly.
Once I’m alone with the door closed between us, I can think without being afraid my expression is giving me away. He wants to swim in a cove. I wonder if there’s a way beyond it, to a bay or something. I’m a strong swimmer. I’ll only have to get away from him long enough to put distance between us, and once that happens, I doubt even somebody with all his muscles could cut through the water as fast as me.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
* * *
This will not be as easy as I thought.
I eyeball the rope coiled over Sebastian’s shoulder as he waits for me by the front door. It’s the first time I’ve walked across the length of the house. Minor victories.
Short-lived, too.
“What are you going to do with that?” I point to the rope.
“What do you think?” He hikes up my dress, and reflex makes me push it back down again. “For fuck’s sake, it’s not like I haven’t seen your pussy. Besides, your thong is on.” I can’t believe he’s so casual about this. My cheeks burn with shame as he ties the rope around my waist, then cinches it tight.
