“Let’s get you settled. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”
That look of fear on her face... he’d do anything to erase it forever and replace it with trust.
Julie jumped when Gabe’s hand touched her lower back, guiding her into the house. It was so familiar and similar to their first date at Sakura and yet so different in light of all the things she now knew. Despite everything, there was this crazy fucked-up part of her that still wanted to be with him—even with everything he’d told her.
Maybe that would have been possible before. But now? Now she didn’t think she could ever be with a man in even the most bland and non-threatening sexual relationship again. How could she ever trust a man who not only was into all the things Gabe was into, but who couldn’t promise her fidelity? And who could never conceivably set her free?
How would that work? How would it be stable? How could she ever feel loved? Did she deserve to? No matter what Gabe said, and no matter how much she knew nothing that had happened to her was her fault, she couldn’t help how dirty and wrong she felt and how guilty. Logic didn’t seem to matter.
All the times she’d fantasized about Gabe from the moment she’d first met him, the story—at least before Dmitri—had ended in marriage and maybe a couple of kids and a dog and a white picket fence in a nice neighborhood in suburbia. And even after Dmitri, when she believed she no longer deserved all that, it had still included at least basic monogamy.
The inside of the house took her breath away. Sure, Dmitri’s house was big and fancy. But there were different types of fancy. Dmitri had something gold in practically every nook and cranny as well as ostentatious furniture and art on the walls. It had been an over-the-top display of wealth. Gabe’s house by contrast was overwhelming. Clean and bright and regal in an understated, assured sort of way.
“T-this is where you live?”
“Yep.”
Before she could ask anything else, she found herself reflexively spinning toward the sound of heavy, clipped footsteps moving across the large entryway.
“Who is this? We are not taking Dmitri’s cast offs. And she’s too thin,” a strange man with a Russian accent said.
Julie grabbed Gabe’s hand and moved as close to him as she could get without stepping inside his literal skin. Right or wrong, after the past few months, Russian equaled bad to her. And this guy knew Dmitri. Would he send her back to him? No, Gabe wouldn’t let that happen.
“Anton, cut the shit,” Gabe said. “She isn’t a cast off. And she isn’t here to be sold. She’s mine.”
Anton raised an eyebrow. “Yours yours?” he asked, like he was speaking in some sort of code.
“As far as the house is concerned. The rest is in the air. But she’s under my protection.”
“Fine. If you’re taking full responsibility. What about the deal with Dmitri? How did that go?”
Julie tensed. How could Gabe still want to work with those guys? She started to pull her hand from his, but he held on tighter.
“It didn’t. And it won’t,” Gabe said.
“Why not?”
“None of those girls is there voluntarily.”
The Russian snorted. “Really? That’s all? You think our girls are free agents?”
“At least they made a choice. We didn’t drag them kicking and screaming from their happy lives.”
“And yet, once they come into this house and that bracelet is locked around their wrists, they are ours. If they change their mind, there is no out. So how is it different?”
“It just is,” Gabe said. “You didn’t see them. The looks on their faces. Those girls with Dmitri are being abused. None of them likes anything that’s happening. They’re not getting off on it. We’re... this house is… it’s different. You know I have lines.”
Anton rolled his eyes. “Yes, such a virtuous criminal. Dmitri knows about us. We have to work with him. We have to keep him close so we can keep an eye on him.”
“He doesn’t know that much,” Gabe said.
“He knows enough. He knows your name and mine. And he can be vindictive.”
Gabe released Julie’s hand and took a few steps closer to Anton, his voice rising almost to a shout. “You knew if we started talking with these guys we’d be locked in. Me going to check out their operation was a formality. Wasn’t it?”
“I thought you needed more persuading,” Anton said.
“Well congratulations on achieving the opposite, asshole.”
Gabe and Anton glared at each other. Neither spoke for several long moments as the tension in the air escalated higher and higher.
Julie noticed several women gathering at the openings of various doors and hallways that connected with the entry hall. Most of them wore sweatpants and T-shirts. Feet were bare. Some wore lightweight workout shorts instead of sweatpants. The T-shirts were all white, but the shorts and pants were a wide variety of bright solid colors. They looked like they were all about to be featured in a commercial for casual workout wear.
Upon further inspection, Julie noticed, they each had a thick silver metal cuff around one wrist. They appeared curious, but unafraid. They looked well fed and healthy. There were whispers and murmurs coming from them and several pointed looks in Julie’s direction.
“Girls,” Anton said. “This doesn’t concern you. Go back to your rooms.”
They lingered for another moment, whispering and gawking, but finally, when it seemed Anton and Gabe wouldn’t continue the argument until they were gone, they drifted back down the hallways and through the doorways they’d appeared from.
“How attached are you to Dmitri and his guys?” Gabe asked when it was just the three of them again.
Anton’s eyes widened. “Are you fucking kidding me? Is this about this whore you picked up?” he asked, making a sweeping gesture toward Julie as if there could otherwise be any question of who he was talking about.
Gabe launched himself at Anton, landing a hard punch squarely against his jaw. This action drew a few of the girls back, peering around corners, eyes wide. More whispering followed.
“Okay, okay!” Anton said, holding his hands up, then, “Girls! To bed, now!” he said without turning back in their direction. They scattered.
Gabe got off him and backed up a few paces to stand in front of Julie. “She’s not a whore. She’s mine. I knew her before. I didn’t just randomly pick her up tonight. Are you fucking crazy?”
Anton rubbed his jaw. “I think you dislocated it. And you are one to talk about crazy.”
“You’ll live. Again, I ask how close are you to these guys? Are they family? Close friends?”
“Mere acquaintances from back home,” Anton said.
“So you won’t cry if they get lost down a well?”
“Where are you planning to find a well?”
“Don’t be cute.”
A blonde woman moved cautiously into the room. She wore a black silk nightgown that whispered across the floor as she moved. When she walked, dark-red painted toes peered out from beneath the fabric. She had no bracelet, but she wore a solid shiny band around her throat that was either made entirely out of onyx or some other dark stone. She carried an ice pack, which she pressed into Anton’s hand. She must have been lingering with the other girls to have been able to get ice for him so quickly.