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“I need the same thing,” she whispered, barely feeling real as those words slipped softly past her lips.
He held her tighter against him. His grip didn't loosen until the exhaustion and all the emotions he'd been holding onto released in sleep.
Claire wriggled out of his embrace. She went to the big walk-in closet and put on another T-shirt, and a hoodie and jeans and shoes and went outside. Ari hadn't locked the sliding glass door behind him with his fingerprint when he'd come back into the house. But the gates on the outer perimeter were locked so it wasn't as if anyone could really get in or out. It was only the illusion of freedom.
Claire stood outside next to the fire, watching as the flames leapt up to lick at the cool air. Their clothes had long burned away. The fox stood several yards off, his gaze going between the fire and her. He stared at her for a long time as though trying to figure out the answer to a riddle—or maybe trying to understand who she was and why she was here.
As she watched the fire die down into embers, she thought about the long journey to this moment. All the fucked-up things that had happened. But if they hadn't happened, she never would have met Ari. She never would have had this thing that was so right it no longer mattered to her how wrong it was.
She went back into the house and spied a box of dog treats on top of the refrigerator hidden behind a box of cereal. She took the box down, took out a couple of treats, and went back outside. But the fox was gone.
Claire sighed and left the treats out on the terrace then went inside and got back into bed with Ari. He shifted in his sleep, pulling her to him. And they slept the sleep of two people ready to leave the past in the past.
Epilogue
With each month that went by the things that had happened in the basement seemed to blend further into faded half-forgotten memory. Finding the evidence her tormentor was truly gone and watching Ari bury it had offered her a kind of closure. The nightmares never returned. And Holly never returned.
The two of them had settled into a strange sort of kinky domesticity punctuated by the occasional foursome with Kane and Saskia. And the occasional appearance from Marcus who kept a respectful distance from Claire.
As it turned out, Kane knew all about art restoration. He was teaching her. Once she could do the work properly, he had the connections to get her freelance restoration projects. She was so excited to be able to do the work she'd always wanted to do. Ari had already set up a workroom for her in the art wing of the house.
Now it was Thanksgiving. Claire sat in the passenger side of Ari's car in the circular driveway of her parents' estate. He came around and opened the door for her. He offered a hand to help steady her in the high-heeled boots she wore. When she stood, her black wool skirt slid back down over the tops of the knee-high boots.
“What do you call me inside?” Ari asked.
“Ari,” she repeated for the thousandth time. He'd made her call him by his nickname the entire long drive to Thanksgiving dinner. And she was still afraid she'd slip and call him Master.
“Trust me, even if I slipped up, nobody would notice. These are the most self-absorbed people you will ever meet.”
“What are your parents’ names again?” Ari asked. He looked like he was actually nervous about meeting them.
“Wendi and Charles.”
She hadn't really wanted to go to Thanksgiving dinner. Claire hadn't spoken to her mother since New Year's when she'd begged out of the party, with the fake flu. But they would notice if she didn't show up for the holidays, and unless Ari wanted her to be listed as a missing person, she had to show up at some point.
At first she hadn't thought he would risk taking her. After all, she could get help, escape him. But he no longer seemed concerned by this possibility.
It was so strange holding hands with him like some normal couple—the kind of people who picked out blenders and bath towels together. He didn't let go of her hand when he rang the bell. They stood on the porch under the massive columns, freezing their asses off while they waited for someone to hear the door.
“Oh fuck it, let's just go in,” Claire said. It was way too cold already to just be Thanksgiving. She pushed the door open and pulled Ari inside.
“Do they know I'm coming?” he asked.
“No, M-” she caught herself.
Ari bent down to her ear and whispered. “If you say that word while we're at your parents' house, you will receive the most dire punishment you've ever received when we get home. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes.” She had to fight the clawing need to say that word. It just didn't feel right not giving him a title. It felt like everything she said was somehow incomplete without it now.
“Good girl,” he said, leaning in and nipping her throat with his teeth. He grabbed her ass just as her mother walked into the entry way.
“Claire, you look fabulous! Have you lost weight? And that necklace is stunning! It's so chic and sophisticated. You should wear that all the time.” Wendi pulled her close for air kisses then released her to look at Ari.
Claire's fingertips strayed absently over the gold collar at her throat. Her mother would lose all composure if she knew what the jewelry meant. But at least Wendi could get her wish. Claire would be following her advice to wear it all the time.
Wendi gave Ari a very obvious once over. “And who is this tall drink of viking re-enactment?”
Ari actually blushed at that.
