The tears started to flow down her cheeks in earnest now because this betrayal hurt more than anything else. She’d really believed she could trust him, so why the fuck was he mad at her? What happened to that conversation the first night in the car when he’d told her he would never force himself on her and that she had a choice? Obviously he only cared about the imaginary movie playing in his mind where he got to pick her reactions to everything, instead of her. She was just supposed to follow his script. At the moment, seeing the other alternative… Brian… she was willing to follow that script to get away. However much she might later resent Gabe, he was—as always—the lesser evil.
“Well, Gabe? Is she yours?” Brian asked, growing ever more amused by the scene in front of him. Brian knew. He knew this wasn’t true. He knew it was a desperate ploy. He was playing with her. Would he let her go if Gabe confirmed the story? Wouldn’t he have to? Would Gabe be willing to fight him to protect her? He’d saved her from Brian before. Couldn’t he do it one more time?
She tried not to think about all the money he’d spent to free her from Dmitri. The debt that loomed over her every time she looked into his eyes, every time she avoided giving him all the things he wanted from her. It didn’t matter how much he’d denied she owed him a debt. She did owe him a debt, and the only way she could process payment was with her body. It was the only currency she had, and she knew it was the only one he wanted. But how could she? Wouldn’t it be moving backward? What if she gave him what he wanted and lost herself completely in the process?
Gabe didn’t break eye contact with her to spare Brian a glance. But the expression in his eyes changed. It went from a hard inscrutable stare to... a question? An expectation? Waiting.
“Okay, well, until somebody learns how to use their words, I’m going to play,” Brian said.
Her shirt had been half unbuttoned, but now he unbuttoned it the rest of the way. He took a small knife from the table. It gleamed off the lights recessed in the ceiling, and she started to panic and struggle again. Oh god, what was he going to do with that knife?
“Please,” Julie whimpered. But her plea was directed at Gabe, not Brian.
But Brian didn’t cut her. He instead used the knife to cut open the front of her bra. He put the instrument back on the table and picked up the clamp again. “Do you know how I know you aren’t really his? I’ve known Gabe for a while now. If you were his, he never would have allowed you underwear.”
Gabe looked at her for another second, and then turned away. He was leaving her? How could he leave her? If he walked out that door, Brian was going to hurt her, badly.
“Master, please don’t leave me with him!”
He stopped in the doorway, the muscles of his back rigid, straining so hard, she thought he might burst apart from the tension. Or she would.
He turned slowly back around. “Brian, release my property.”
Brian put the clamp back down on the table and sighed. “If she’s your property, where’s her collar? How am I to know who is protected if they don’t have a collar?”
“It’s being made.”
“If it’s not around her throat by the end of the week she’s fair game.”
“It will be.”
“If she’s your slave, why doesn’t she act like it? Why don’t I see any signs of it?”
“It’s new.”
Yeah, five seconds new. Julie shivered from the heated possessive look he gave her. She was no longer sure this could qualify as rescue.
Brian began to unbuckle the straps attaching her to the chair. “Hmmm, I’m still not convinced. Julie...”
She tore her eyes from Gabe. “Y-yes?”
“If you’re really his slave and he’s really your master, crawl over to him, kiss his boots like a proper slave, and thank him for his mercy.”
Julie had no doubt that if she didn’t obey Brian’s directive that Gabe would turn around and leave her again. So as soon as Brian finished unbuckling the straps, she knelt on the cold hard floor and crawled to Gabe. She should hate him for making her do this. But all she could think was that she was mere feet away from safety.
She wouldn’t think about what might come next if Gabe held her to her words down here. She just had to get out of Brian’s dungeon, her body and mind still intact.
When she reached him, she pressed her lips against the leather of his boot and said, “Thank you, Master.”
“Stand up,” Gabe said.
She stood and he took her blouse the rest of the way off. For a moment, she panicked, afraid he was going to take her right here right now in some savage display, like the spoils of war. Maybe he was intent on proving himself to Brian.
She willed herself not to cry or beg. If Gabe got fed up with her, he might throw her right back to Brian, and the one thing she was sure of: anything Gabe did to her would be a thousand times more kind and merciful than anything Brian might do. She hadn’t realized how sure she’d been of that until this moment.
Gabe removed the bra and flung it on the ground, then to her great relief, he helped her back into the blouse and buttoned it up, the destroyed bra abandoned on the floor. Her nipples hardened and pushed against the fabric. She may as well not wear a top at all.
He looked down at her, a slight smirk curving that beautiful mouth as he took her in. “Brian is right about one thing. No underwear. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, Master.” She wasn’t sure if this was real or if Gabe was just helping her get out of Brian’s clutches. She didn’t know if he would hold her to all of this, but every time the word master came out of her mouth in relation to him, it felt more and more... right? Every time she said it, something low inside her gut clenched up, not in panic or fear, but... expectation. That couldn’t be right? Could it?
“Let’s go.” His hand settled on her lower back as he guided her from the room.
“Oh Gabe?” Brian called after them.
“What is it?” Gabe said, now past the point of irritation.
“You owe me a drink.”
“For what?”
“I think you know for what.”
Gabe didn’t reply. And he didn’t speak again until he’d led her through the house and back to his room. She jumped when the door shut harder than necessary. “Sit.”
Julie sat on the edge of his bed and looked down at the floor.
“Well?” he said.
“Well, what?”
“That little performance back there. Was any of it real or was it all just to save your skin?”
“I don’t know.”
He sighed. “Brian is not bluffing. If my collar is not around your throat by the end of the week, he will come for you, and what he does with you will be much worse for having been dragged through this charade. I can’t babysit you every second of every day.”
“You mean you actually would if you could?” Him being about to leave her down in the dungeon with Brian hadn’t exactly built much confidence in his intentions.
“I don’t want you like this… forced. But I don’t want him to hurt you, either. And I might not always be around to stop him.”
She felt the tears slipping down her cheeks again, threatening to turn into uncontrollable sobs.