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Now I saw the truth—Gabriel didn’t give a damn about his “little sister.” He just wanted to forget about me and everything we’d done together. I could still feel the warmth of his big body against mine, but my heart was suddenly cold.
“Zoe? Little Sis—please don’t cry. I’m sure Gabe didn’t mean it that way!”
Christopher was looking at me anxiously, his green eyes filled with grief.
I put a hand to my face and found that something hot and wet was running down my cheek. He was right—I was crying. But I couldn’t seem to stop. I felt like something was broken inside me and there was no healing it—not now or ever.
Without a word, I climbed out of Gabriel’s big bed. I wrapped a sheet around me—I hadn’t worn clothes in days and I didn’t know where my little plaid skirt and white blouse had gone to.
“Zoe, wait!” I heard Christopher say behind me as I headed for the door.
“No—let her go,” Gabriel said. “It’s better this way.”
I couldn’t stand to hear any more. I left my stepbrother’s bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
I was on my own again, just as I had been when I had first come to the Compound and this time I was going to stay that way.
FIFTEEN
“Now then, attend to me, young lady. I understand that even though you have no maiden barrier, you are a virgin. Is that right?”
Pack Master Moncrieff was a creepy old man of at least sixty-five—if not older. He was peering at me closely as though he could reach right through the computer screen and grab me where I sat, stiffly upright in the big leather chair in my stepfather’s study.
It was my stepfather who had arranged this on-line meeting, so that the Pack Master he was selling me to could see the “goods” he would be getting in exchange for the parcel of land he was handing over.
“Yes, Sir,” I said in a low voice.
“What? Speak up, girl!” he commanded, glaring at me through the screen. He had wiry gray hair on his head and tufts of it growing out of his oversized ears and nostrils as well. His teeth were obviously fake—they were too white and even to be anything but dentures. I wondered if he would smell of denture cream, like my grandma always had and shivered at the thought.
“I said, yes, Sir,” I said more loudly, since my stepfather was sitting across the desk, glaring at me.
“Good…very good.” Pack Master Moncrieff nodded at me. “It’s a shame though—I like a girl to bleed the first time I take her.”
His words left me cold. The only nice thing that I could see about him was the fact that he had a little white mouse scampering around his desktop.
Thinking I might try to make some conversation, I pointed at the mouse and said,
“Is that your pet?”
“This is Mr. Nibbles.” Pack Master Moncrieff nodded and offered the tiny rodent a sliver of cheese. The little mouse stopped scampering around and took the cheese in both of his tiny little paws. He sat up on his hind legs and began nibbling industriously, his long whiskers waving wildly as he chewed.
“He’s adorable!” I said, feeling a tiny bit heartened. After all, any man who could be kind to a sweet little mouse must not be all bad, right?
But Pack Master Moncrieff didn’t answer my comment about his tiny pet. Instead he leaned forward and stared at me through the screen again.
“Listen to me, young lady,” he said, looking like a stern old grandfather. “As long as you’re pure when you get to me, I’ll take you. And that means I expect your pussy to be tight and unused!”
I felt my stomach drop. So much for the kindly grandfather image.
“Yes, Sir,” I said again, since there didn’t seem to be anything else I could say.
“No cocks will enter you but mine!” Moncrieff snarled at me. “And if you’re a good girl and do as you’re told, I will treat you as my own daughter.”
I felt sick. The things he wanted to do to me weren’t generally things a father did to his daughter.
“Yes, Sir,” I said again, because that seemed to be what he wanted to hear.
“But if you are not pure when you reach me…” His thick fingers suddenly closed around the tiny pet mouse.
There was a horrible, high-pitched squeak and then a crunching sound, like someone squeezing a handful of brittle twigs until they broke.
Oh my God!
I gasped and pushed back from the desk, instinctively getting as far from the computer screen as I could.
“I think you understand me.” Pack Master Moncrieff looked extremely pleased with himself. Blood dripped from between his fingers to patter on the desktop in front of him. “Well?” He leaned forward, glaring at me. “Do you?”
