“B-but it’s eleven at night.” She’d been about ready to put on her pajamas and eat some cookie dough ice cream. These were big plans for a Thursday night.
“Thirty minutes.”
The line went dead. She stared at the phone wondering what would happen if she didn’t show up. He had her address in his files. Would he send goons to her apartment? Would he come himself? Was he feeling antsy that she might talk to the cops about him?
She still wasn’t sure what she could say even if she wanted to report him. What was she reporting him for, exactly? He’d been just vague enough that anything she said was going to sound stupid. They’d probably laugh her out of the station or charge her with something for wasting their time. She could report Anton, but for what? She hadn’t paid him. Weren’t massage therapists allowed to have consensual sexual interactions with people who weren’t paying them? Like everybody else? Besides, nothing of note had happened.
What if they’d rejected her but now the doctor felt skittish about what little non-information she had about his vague but possibly illegal activities?
As she entertained these possibilities, she bypassed her pajamas for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She didn’t bother with anything nice. She was sure being late would be worse than the horror of him seeing her in ratty jeans.
Thirty minutes later, she sat exactly where he’d told her to be, feeling like a teenager in the principal’s office. She hadn’t realized until now that her nice blouses and pencil skirts and heels and red lipstick had been her armor. It made her feel powerful and strong enough to exist in the same space with him for an hour at a time.
That power had been traded for a pony tail and scuffed tennis shoes.
“Laundry day?” Lindsay asked from his side of the desk.
“It’s eleven-thirty.”
“Yes. You made it. I had considered not making the offer since you so rudely missed our appointment yesterday, but Anton and I spoke and he believes we can place you with a proper master if you are still interested in pursuing this.”
She hadn’t expected that. “I-I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Fine. Leave. Hide away in your cocoon. Avoid men. Avoid relationships. Avoid yourself. What do I care?”
Here it was: the moment when he turned on her to reveal the beast behind the civilized facade. She cringed and braced herself, ready to throw her arms up in a lame and ineffective self-defense pose if necessary.
She hadn’t realized she’d squeezed her eyes shut until his warm hands were on her arms.
“You’re clenching the leather. It was just reupholstered,” he said, disengaging her fingernails from the arm rest. “I know you’re scared, and I’m not helping. The truth is, I have a lot to lose, too. I let you leave my presence after giving you enough rope to possibly hang me with. It was foolish. And now the only thing that can make any of this okay for everyone is if you’ll just take that one small step. Just trust me one more time to get you from point A to B. You will be happy at the end of this process if you’ll just trust me.”
He was as good as admitting to being a criminal. Why should she trust a criminal?
“Did Anton hurt you?” he asked.
“No.” She desperately wanted to call him Sir. In spite of all the things she’d been through, there was a peace in that title. In any title. At least until they turned on her.
“Anton said you were very excited. Very responsive.”
She was always excited in the beginning when things were new and the mask of kindness was still in place.
“If I agreed to be matched with someone, how do I know I would be safe? What if he only seemed okay, and then he started hurting me later?”
Lindsay returned to his side of the desk. “We routinely check in with our girls. Early on, it’s once a week, then once a month, then every few months. When we’re sure everything is fine, it’s a yearly video call. Whoever buys you will have a contract with us. The contract may not be enforceable by law, but they know the consequences of breaking it. We will handle anyone foolish enough to break our contract and get the girl out of there. We don’t have to do it often because we screen carefully.”
“What if he threatens me, and I say everything is okay because I’m scared of him?”
“We visit in person. Not me, but it will be someone who is fully capable of handling any issue that may arise. We will remove you from a bad situation.”
Mina’s brain finally caught up with part of what the doctor said. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t suspected as much, but to hear it was another thing. “Buy? Someone would be buying me?”
“Yes. Do you think we do this out of some charitable urge?”
“Would I be seeing any of this money?”
“Not a penny.”
“What if I say no?”
Lindsay’s face appeared smooth and unrippled, mild and untroubled. But his fingers gripped his own newly reupholstered leather. “Then you can go home.” His voice was tight.
“Would you still see me as a patient?”
He relaxed a fraction. “If you wish.”
Of course, because then he could keep tabs on her and know if she could still be trusted. He’d know the moment she had an urge to fill out a police report.
She wanted to know if he’d been this open with other prospects. Somehow she doubted it, and she was afraid to make him any more skittish.
“Mina? I’ve risked myself and my safety because I care about you. I care that you are happy and safe and protected, and that your life works out for you in all the ways you’ve ever dreamed without the ugly things that have cast a shadow over you. You’ve been coming here for a while now. You obviously feel safe enough to be alone with me. If you can just place your trust in me a little further, I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I promise you.”
She’d be lying if she said his impassioned speech had no effect. Whether her instincts were right or wrong on this, she did trust him. And if anyone could ensure no one ever hurt her again, she trusted Lindsay could. He radiated a confident power that she’d yet to encounter. If there was such a thing, he was the real deal.
And if he was the real deal, then he knew where to find more of his kind.
“What would happen if I said yes?”
“If you agree, you will go home tonight and pack your bags. Pack anything you have any strong attachment to because you won’t be returning. A car will pick you up and take you to an estate where you will be trained, and a match will be found for you. At that point, once we’ve screened him properly and he’s signed all our paperwork and paid for you, you will be turned over to his care.”
No. This is madness. Unless you have an absolute death wish, this is not the way.
But the place inside her that Jason hadn’t yet killed—the place Anton had briefly touched—cried out for the hope that the kind of master Lindsay described could be real and that somehow this mystery man could undo everything those before him had done. She’d been barely existing since Jason. As fucked up and horrible as it was with him, as uncertain and abusive… she didn’t know how to be normal anymore.
“I live at the estate,” Lindsay continued, oblivious to her inner struggle. “As does Anton. You will meet other girls. No one will do anything we talked about in your limits, or they will face consequences.”