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I shift again in my seat. My breathing is shallow.
“Like the show?” Rafe asks as the men untie the women from their bonds.
I should reply with a “no,” but the truth is, I’m not sure. I rarely watch porn, let alone a live sex show.
Jade fluffs out her wavy hair and slips into a silk robe that one of the men offers her. She smiles out into the audience at Rafe. “You should join in on the action next time.”
“I’ll think about it,” Rafe replies as he responds to a text on his phone.
Jade pouts. “Your skills will get rusty if you don’t exercise them.”
If I weren’t so discombobulated, I would have realized sooner that this was an opportunity. Jade speaks English. What if I just shouted out at her that I’m being held against my will by Rafe? She’d probably think I was a lunatic. But at least someone would’ve seen me in my final days, someone who could tell the cops.
I start to raise my hand to get her attention.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rafe says without lifting his eyes from the phone.
I put my hand back down. I suppose even if Jade were to tell the cops she saw a skinny, pale woman with Rafe, he and/or his people would know how to dispose of a body without leaving incriminating evidence.
“I’m available whenever you want to do this again,” Jade offers before leaving the stage.
I remain seated while Rafe finishes his text. The women have left. The two men are cleaning the stage.
“You want a nightcap?” Rafe asks me.
“No thanks,” I reply. “I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.”
Rafe walks me to my room. I try to ignore how often his gaze is on me. “You didn’t say whether or not you liked the show.”
“It’s, um, I’ve never really watched BDSM before. Have you?”
“I don’t just watch it. I practice it.”
My breath catches. “You’ve done what they did onstage?”
“And more.”
I can’t help wonder:Like what?
“And the women, they actually like it?”
“Yes. You would, too, if you gave it a try.”
I look at him and almost want to laugh. “I’ll try bluefin tuna or caviar, sure. BDSM? That’s totally different.”
Rafe smiles. “It’s better.”
His gaze rattles me again, and I have to look away. “How’d you, um, get into BDSM?”
“Through shibari. Even though I despise what Japan did in World War Two, I don’t let it stop me from appreciating what the culture has to offer.”
“What’s shibari?”
“Rope bondage. I have a gallery dedicated to shibari.”
“I must have missed that one,” I say, unsure whether this gallery is one I want to view.
We stop in front of my room. He changes the subject. “You promised to behave, Priscilla.”
