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Signing that contract with Damon was supposed to change my life for the better. It was the first step to my new life. Now I’m worse off than I was before I signed. I push back the negative thoughts. They won’t do me a damn bit of good. All I can do is move forward. Even though it makes me nervous, I’ll go to the bank and get the little bit of cash I have, surely, they stopped looking for me after the didn’t find me in Kansas City. After that, I’ll decide which shelter to stay at tonight.
Tomorrow I will track down Lizbet and see if she can find me work. I’m two blocks from the bank when the skies open up, and it starts pouring rain. I have to swallow back a hysterical bout of laughter, knowing if I let it go, it’ll dissolve into sobbing. I wish, not for the first time that I was still at the club. Being there for the last week is the closest I’ve felt to having a home in a long time. I push those thoughts aside. It won’t do me a bit of good to dwell. I need to focus on making a plan for my future.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ROSE
I’m sitting in a café nursing my third cup of coffee. I hate coffee, but I don’t want to spend any more than the sixty-eight cents that bought me this bottomless cup. Really, I’m only here because it’s pouring cats and dogs outside, and with nowhere else to go it seemed like a good idea. The smell of greasy café food makes my stomach growl in hunger, but I can’t waste money on food when I’ve so recently eaten. I only have thirty-seven dollars and thirty-three cents to my name and that’s only if I’m a complete jerk and don’t leave a tip for the frazzled waitress that clearly wants me out of her booth. My still healing body is sore from walking all day. Sitting in this uncomfortable booth isn’t helping matters any, I take the bottle of painkillers out of my bag and down a couple with the bitter coffee.
I make a quick trip to the restroom, when I return my table has been taken over by a group of teens. Resigned that it’s time to move on, I pay the cashier and leave. The rain has let up a bit, but I’m still soaked through in just a couple of blocks. I’ve decided that my best option for a shelter is Saint Luke’s. It’s close and opens up in the next hour. Plus, they will let me shop through the lost-and-found for shoes and clothes.
Just as I’m preparing to cross the street a big black SUV stops in front of me. For a moment I am scared half to death thinking that I’ve been found. I mentally kick myself for being so reckless in going to the bank. I nearly faint dead away when Matthew opens the back door.
It takes my brain a few seconds to catch up. What is he doing here? How did he know where to find me? Did he change his mind about repayment?
“Get in.” he orders. Despite my questions, I quickly comply and slide into the seat next to him. “What the hell are you doing wandering around the city alone at night and in the rain?”
I chew on my bottom lip while I try desperately to think of some kind of acceptable reason, but honestly, I have none. Well, none that will get that fearsome look off of Matthew’s face.
“Um, I was just heading home after having dinner at the café,” I say lamely.
Anger flashes through his eyes and I can tell he’s fighting to keep his calm. “Rose do not lie to me,” he says. “I know after Kist drove away from the building you claimed to live in, you promptly exited the building. Then you went to the bank and closed out your account. After that you went into the café and ordered coffee. You don’t even like coffee.”
My mouth drops open and I’m floundering for what to say. How the hell does he know all that? He must have had someone following me! “How… I mean… Why… Were you following me?” I finally get my words out.
“Yes, I had security on you. Even though I took care of the monetary aspects of your agreement with Damon, I don’t trust him. Your safety isn’t something I’m willing to compromise on.” I’m stuck between being freaked out that someone was stalking me all day and I didn’t pick up on it and being stupid-happy that Matthew cares enough to do something so crazy to keep me safe. “The real question is why the hell didn’t you tell me that you have nowhere to go?”
He’s obviously angry and I don’t like being the one that has angered him. I feel this uncontrollable urge to please him that I don’t quite understand. He saved me in more ways than one and it feels inherently wrong to displease him. He’s been the only person to stand up for me in ten years and how do I repay him? I lie to him. I look away from him, unable to meet his gaze.
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I couldn’t possibly ask for more help, you’ve already given me more than I deserve.” The last of my words are lost on a sob. I’m ashamed of myself. Of what I’ve become.
Very slowly he pulls me into his arms, always so careful to not startle or hurt me. “Love, you can tell me anything. I will do anything for you,” his voice is full of promise. “Anything.” He turns to the front of the vehicle and tells the driver to take us home. A tiny thrill shivers down my spine at the very idea of going home with Matthew. I try to tell myself not to get excited. That he didn’t mean that his home is my home, but despite the fact that I hardly know him, I want to call Matthew’s home my own.
“Alrighty, boss man.” It’s not until he speaks that I realize the driver is Kisten. My cheeks heat in embarrassment at having him witness my breakdown. He gives me a wink in the rearview mirror making me feel slightly better.
Matthew runs his fingers idly through my wet hair trying to smooth out the tangles. I relax into his touch. It’s been so very long since I could rejoice in such simple human contact. I don’t really understand why, but despite the fact that I don’t like being touched by anyone for any reason, I love Matthew’s hands on me.
It’s a good thing because he’s always finding a small way to touch me. Anything from playing with my hair and holding my hand to more intimate touches like brushing his fingers over my cheek. Not once have I flinched away from him. Even in the throes of a panic attack, his touch is a soothing balm to my senses.
Usually, a man’s touch would send my anxiety soaring in anticipation of what’s to come. It’s one of the things Damon loved about me. He learned quickly that even casual touches ratcheted up my anxiety. Damon likes his toys—belts, whips, floggers, canes—because they offer maximum pain. He loved tying me down and running his hands all over my body. He said that I gave him more fear and pain from a delicate touch than most give after being whipped.
I shake off those memories and focus on Matthew’s fingers in my hair. Idly, I wonder if he’s trying to soothe me or if it soothes himself to touch me like this. I’m tempted to ask, but then he might stop, and it feels wonderful. It calms me and makes me feel safe. Loved. I’m not foolish enough to think that Matthew loves me, but he cares and that’s enough. It’s more than I’ve ever had.
I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, soaking in this moment for as long as I can. Etching it in my memory so that I can pull it out and bask in it all over again. Maybe it’ll help me get through whatever the future holds. Being here with Matthew feels like a dream. Knowing how quickly dreams can turn, I shouldn’t let myself indulge. I do anyway.
CHAPTER NINE
MATTHEW
All-day long, I’ve been a wreck. Ten minutes after Rose left with Daniels, I had Slade on the phone. I never should’ve let her fucking leave. It took every single ounce of self-control I have to keep me from going and collecting her the moment Slade said she left the apartment complex. It might be over-the-top to have a security detail on her, but I can’t let her slip away again. I still can’t believe after all these years, she managed to end up in my club.
What are the chances that Rose would end up here in New York City, far from where we’re from, and in my BDSM club? If I believed in fate, I would say it had a hand in orchestrating the whole thing. I spent years searching for the Grants and Rose, but they disappeared like dust in the wind.
It was during my search for Rose that I met Slade and Kisten.
Slade is ex-military, who took a special interest in putting a stop to human trafficking. On one of his many covert operations, he stumbled upon one of the biggest human trafficking rings in Russia. Using his cover as one of the bad guys, he purchased one of the girls being sold. He couldn’t save them all, but he could save her. Once his mission was over, he went back to save the rest, but someone had gotten wind of what was coming, and the traffickers had killed all of the girls and abandoned the warehouse.
Kisten’s history isn’t a pretty one. He was born on the wrong side of the tracks to a drug dealer and a crack whore. He was on the streets by the age of fifteen. He did a lot of bad shit just to survive.
