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“Well, it’s almost spring break, so you’re out this week.” His voice is flat, nonchalant.
“Out? But…Mercer, I?—”
“People will start noticing you, so you’re ahead at school and you’re taking a week off.”
There’s something in the way he says it. And whatever that something is, I don’t trust it. “And if I want to go to my classes?”
He puts the newspaper down. “I’m not trying to be a dick here. But like I said last night, this situation is dangerous and you need to be here, away from everyone. It’s why I had you removed from the schedule for your job today.”
“I have two jobs today.”
“Two?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t move his eyes from the paper.
“If I’m just in here with you, then I’m what? Your prisoner?”
“Don’t be stupid, Ivy.”
“You don’t like me.”
“This fucking place is huge. I don’t have to see you until I want to. But…fine, go to your job, if it’s that important to you.” His gaze shifts to my wrist where I’m wearing the watch. He checks the one he’s wearing. “But take a driver. I’ll text you the number. I’ve got to go. And, Ivy? Don’t be stupid. Because I will punish you for it.”
Those words should make me tense up with apprehension but instead, they have the opposite effect. My entire body tingles with anticipation and longing.
I kind of want to do something stupid, just to see what he might do, if he has any limits at all.
I hunt through the triplex when he leaves. Every room is gorgeous, tasteful, reeking of refined money and lacking soul. Except the library. I make a mental note to head back there after I’ve finished my unguided tour.
Up a small set of stairs on the third floor leads to another floor. Is a quadplex a thing? It’s a huge bedroom, with a balcony, walk-in closet en suite, and a room that’s locked. It's draped in blacks, grays, and whites. I take in a deep breath, letting Mercer’s complex scent of smoke, salt, wood, and rich leather infuse me.
The room is masculine, the bed huge. Everything is neat and tidy, but I’d expect nothing less from a man who is so cold and calculating. He needs order. It’s evident in everything he does.
I flop down on the bed once before immediately jumping off it. What am I thinking? He’d probably spank me for snooping.
A tiny thrill flutters in my blood at that thought.
I go back down to my room, grab my iPad, and head out to the terrace on the second floor. I call Elise but there’s no answer. I tap my fingers against the sides of the device, trying to calculate the time in Switzerland. She’s probably in a session.
I try Cara, but it goes straight to voicemail. Where the heck could she be? A sliver of ice settles into my bones. It’s not like her to ignore all my texts and voicemails.
What if she was taken? What if she’s one of the girls Mercerkeeps talking about, a target for these seedy men and their depravity?
I pray with everything in me that she’s not, that one day soon when my phone bleeps with a text or rings with an incoming call, it’ll be her.
I rub my temples and sit back on the plush sofa, a deep sigh expelling from my lungs as I look around.
Mercer is…I don’t know what he is. From what I’ve come to know of him, he’s not this place. Well, except for this morning when he came in as a soulless being, a shell of civility. What I expected were comments on the dress I’m still wearing from last night. Or maybe one about his watch.
Taunts. Underhanded barbs.
Or just straight out cruelty.
Humiliation of the type I say don’t want but maybe the exact kind I crave.
Which is a weird thing to say because I don’t like when it happens in the moment. But what the humiliation releases inside of me, what it brings me, what it gives me…all the things I want and need and could never admit to. It’s almost like walking through fire to snag the prize.
