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I look at the white pill. “What’s this?”
“Paracetamol. You’ll need it if you don’t want to wake up with a headache.”
He puts the pill on my tongue and makes me drink all the water. The bed dips as he settles behind me, pulling me to his chest.
“I should leave,” I say sleepily.
“I set the alarm for five.” He kisses my shoulder. “Rest.”
I snuggle closer, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Even if it’s only for a few hours, I’ll take what I can get. I’m used to living off scraps.
I’m almost drifting off when his voice pulls me back from my sleep.
“There was this cat.”
I lie still, waiting for him to continue.
“It was a kitten. Nothing special. Just an alley cat, but to me she was beautiful. She had a soft pelt, black as the night, and eyes like yellow moons. The cat showed up out of the blue at my best friend’s house. He called her Blackie. From that day on, Blackie always followed my friend around. She stayed in his room and slept on his bed.”
His chest expands with a breath. “I was jealous of him. I wanted the cat to come to my house. I wanted her to follow me, but she didn’t, so I smuggled pieces of fish and steak to his house, luring her through his bedroom window. She ate the food, but still wouldn’t follow me home. One day, when my friend was at rugby practice, I went to his house and took the cat. I locked Blackie in my room, hiding her from Magda and our maids. I made a bed for her in my closet, and I fed her treats my friend could never afford to give her. I kept her closed in for two weeks. By that time, I reckoned she would have accepted her new, more luxurious home.”
“What happened?”
“The day I let her out, she ran straight back to my friend’s house.” He strokes my arm for a while, then says quietly, “He thought she’d run away, like strays do.”
“Did she continue to live with him?”
“I don’t know. I stopped being his friend after that day.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t bear to look at that cat.”
What is he trying to say? I turn in his arms to look at him.
He kisses my lips softly. “If you set something free, it doesn’t come back to you, no matter how well you treat it.”
A deep sense of uneasiness settles in my gut. Is he telling me he won’t let me go?
“Sleep.” He kisses me again, the gentle act conflicting with the soreness inside my body that acts as a reminder of his earlier roughness. “You’ll be tired, tomorrow.”
I close my eyes to hide my turbulent emotions from him. His story shocks me. It tells me three things. One, he’ll take whatever he wants. Two, he believes himself undeserving of love. Three, he’ll keep me for as long as my body serves him. What shocks me more is that I yearn to trust him. As long as he holds Charlie and my life in his hands, I can’t. For the first time, I consider that he won’t honor our deal. He’s not going to set me free like the black kitten. A man like Gabriel doesn’t repeat the same mistake twice. That’s what he was telling me with his story. Tears build up behind my closed eyelids. I turn my back on him again so I can shed them quietly into his pillow. He leaves me with no option. If he doesn’t let me go when I’ve settled Charlie’s debt, I’m going to have to run away.
16
Gabriel
Awake long before the alarm goes off, I pull Valentina’s soft, warm body closer and mull over last night. Getting Valentina drunk wasn’t planned. It’s too soon for her to conceive, so I wasn’t risking her or a developing fetus’ wellbeing. The idea popped into my head while Michael fucked her with his eyes. Sylvia was always brutally honest when she had a drink too many. That was how I found out she never loved me. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I wouldn’t have been so damn gullible if I hadn’t been desperate for a woman I could call my own.
Yeah, the truth comes out when a woman is drunk, and unlike men, they don’t whisper lies in their moments of passion. When a woman is a second away from coming, that’s when you see her true feelings in her eyes. Valentina needs me. That’s what I trained her to want. Like the kitten, I lured her with pleasure and orgasms, driving her to her limits and beyond, ensuring that no other man can ever give her what I can, because no other man will have the balls to hurt her to make her come harder. Then why am I gutted? Women want me for my money, for sex, or for the security that comes with being connected to me. Valentina wants me because I designed it so. It’s too much, hoping she’ll ever want me for me. Girls like her want men like Michael and Quincy. It’s nature. There’s not a damn thing I can do about nature, except twist, force, and bend it my way. If I need to make her my captive forever, so be it. Soon, she’ll be bound to me in blood. Our child will be a connection she can ever break.
