But none of these fears materialized. Instead, the car stopped at the airport.
“Give me an address, and I will send you the money for the ticket,” she said.
“That won’t be necessary,” Ivan said as he led her into the airport to buy her freedom home.
Anton finally gave up searching and headed back to the after party location. It was where they were all supposed to meet. And although his phone hadn’t buzzed, she could be back there now. He silently swore that if he got her back he would put a tracking device inside her jewelry going forward—or else he would escort her to the restroom and back himself like her prison guard.
When he got to the rented club, there was no sign of Annette. A few people were playing on the dungeon equipment. They were dancers and guests he didn’t know well enough to ask for help. And Katya. Finally, he spotted Ivan in a corner and strolled over as nonchalantly as he could manage.
“No luck?” he asked his friend.
“No luck,” Ivan said noncommittally. But Ivan was a terrible liar. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he wasn’t being honest. And his hands were always shoved in his pockets, fumbling with change.
“Can I speak with you outside?”
Ivan looked terrified. It was almost comical to see a man who was normally so in charge and self-assured seem scared. Especially of Anton. But he nodded once and followed Anton outside into the quickly chilling air.
“You found her. Why isn’t she here?” Anton asked as calmly as he could manage. He had a feeling Ivan wouldn’t tell him anything if he got too animated about any of this. It had been a risk to involve anyone else, but beyond his anger, he’d been concerned for her safety wandering in the city alone at night without money.
“Have you hurt her?” Ivan asked in Russian as he lit a cigarette. He’d only started smoking after he’d stopped performing as if he had to be doing something dramatic with his hands, and if it couldn’t be dancing, it could be another vice.
“No, of course I haven’t hurt her.” Anton was confident that of the two of them, he was the better liar. And it helped that he wasn’t sure what the truth was to begin with. He’d held her captive. He’d trained her body to respond to his demands without flinching. He’d had her punished when she resisted him or disobeyed. Had he hurt her?
Ivan would say yes. Even though Ivan also punished his sub and also trained her body to obey him and respond to his demands. The way Annette had come to Anton tainted everything, at least it would for the ballet master if he knew the truth. For Anton it had become the only reason to do anything, the only thing that had ever been worth doing. But he could never make Ivan understand that.
The older man took a slow drag on the cigarette, the cold air making the smoke seem even larger as it escaped his mouth. “If you didn’t hurt her, then why was she so desperate to get away from you?”
Anton shrugged. But it hurt. Maybe it shouldn’t have. What the hell did he expect? But for her to want to get away from him so badly she would choose Rome as her escape hatch, stung. He’d thought she was really there with him when they were together—body, mind, and soul. He’d thought they’d moved on from the Brian thing.
“Just tell me that she’s safe,” Anton said.
“She’s safe.” After a moment, Ivan sighed. “I gave her plane fare.
“That won’t do her any good without a passport.” Anton felt inside his pocket, but even before his hand closed over the passports, he knew he would only find one.
Ivan raised an eyebrow. “You were holding onto her passport?” It was odd for the master of control both in the studio and outside of it to accuse Anton of too-controlling behavior.
“Where was she going to put it in that dress?”
“She seemed to being doing just fine with that when I saw her. I don’t know what happened between you two, but whatever it was, you need to let this one go. There will be other subs. You know that Katya would do anything for you.”
“I don’t want Katya. Don’t you like Annette?” Anton found himself suddenly craving Ivan’s approval again, just as he’d craved it when they’d first met. Ivan had seemed larger than life at the time, and Anton, being only twenty, had wanted nothing more than to make women fall at his feet like the ballet master did.
There was a long pause as Ivan seemed to choose his words. It was as if he were at the barre figuring out the exact right foot placement before making a move. Years in the dance world had taught him the importance of precision which had translated into the importance of choosing your words.
Finally, he said, “Annette is lovely, but she does not belong in our world. I sensed it the very first time I met her. Something always felt just a little off. I’ve wondered for a long time why she was with you in this kind of relationship. I’ve at times thought perhaps that she’s not so much into the kink as she is into you, and that maybe she thought she could do this thing to please you.”
Anton remained silent. While it was true that she hadn’t known anything about his world when he’d brought her to the first party, something was different in her now. These last two weeks he’d felt the tension between them. He’d be crazy not to, but still, there was something there. He’d been sure of it.
“You’re wrong about her. She just wasn’t used to playing in groups. She was shy.”
“Yes,” was all Ivan would commit to. “Well, we better get back to the party.”
A part of Anton wanted to stay and lose himself with a few of the company girls. He knew Katya would be all too happy to play with him. But she might believe Annette’s absence left an opening for her that didn’t exist. He didn’t just want a pet or a slave. He wanted Annette.
“I think I’m going to head back to the states,” Anton said.
Ivan’s eyes narrowed. “You need to give her space. At least a few days before you do whatever it is you think you need to do. I would let it go.”
“I’m not much in a party mood. Thanks for getting her safely on a plane.”
56
It had been three days since she’d seen him. Three days that felt like three years. Her entire world seemed surreal, slightly off kilter like a fuzzy dream she was sure she would wake from at any moment. There was a knock.
Annette went to the door, knowing who was on the other side before she got there. She was already weary from the conversation that hadn’t happened yet. She didn’t know why she hadn’t gone to the police when she’d had the chance.
Had she wanted Anton to come for her? Was that why she hadn’t packed Janette up and ran away? Her sister hadn’t been back to the spa during her scheduled time, and yet the world hadn’t ended, and no threats had been acted out against either of them. Didn’t that at least count for something?
When she opened the door, Anton looked as tired as she felt.
“Kiska,” he said. Just that one word. It made her want to throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her back even though she’d been the one to run. And yet, somehow she managed to stay standing under her own steam even as her hands gripped the door frame as though clinging to life.