“I won’t be long.”
My heart breaks for my father. For the pain he endures
Instead of joining me on one of my runs, Benefield took me out horseback riding. I didn’t know it at the time. My brain focused only on surviving the next moment. I pretended I was having the best time of my life, smiling for the picture Benefield took of us.
I assume he sent that to my father.
What did he think when he saw that? It had to have broken his heart to see me smiling and laughing with the man who took me.
With a momentary reprieve from the oppressiveness of dinner, I hurry out of the room and head for the restroom. There are no locks on the doors, something which still bothers me, but in this place women have no right to privacy. They have no right to anything, except that they will be used.
I lean against the vanity and my knuckles turn white as my grip tightens. This is how I cry now. It’s my way to grieve. Instead of tears, I grip whatever I can. Harder. Harder. Hard enough to feel pain, my eyes remain dry as my tears feed the pain.
I gasp for breath and gulp the air as my head spins and my insides twist. I can’t keep this up for much longer. There is no escape. I’ve run the grounds, as well as the entire perimeter with Benefield by my side. He’s so confident I can’t escape, or won’t escape, that he no longer watches me like a hawk.
Doesn’t matter if he does, or doesn’t. There’s nowhere for me to go. No holes in his security. No way out.
I look up, staring hard into the mirror and check my makeup. Not a single tear spilled, but I feel like I’ve sobbed for hours. I wash my hands and fix my hair, smoothing the strands and centering the diamonds Benefield forces me to wear around my neck.
A single chain of one carat diamonds, the necklace is symbolic. I belong to him, for now and for always, or until I’m dead. There’s one thing I know with absolute certainty. Benefield is never letting me go.
As I stare at my reflection, I begin putting the shields back in place that allow me to continue living this horrible life. With a final breath, I fortify myself against the demons outside.
I grasp the door handle and yank it open. When I walk into the hallway, I pull to a stop.
“Mr. S, what are you doing out here?”
“Waiting to see if you were all right.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I smooth the fabric of my dress.
“Fine?” He arches his brow, amused.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Luv, in my experience, when a woman says she’s fine, she’s either testing me, is tired, doesn’t want to talk, is stressed, is on her period, or wants a hug. Which one is it for you?”
“I meant what I said. I’m fine.” I can’t help but roll my eyes. He’s really full of himself.
“You don’t look like you’re fine.”
“Trust me, I am.”
“You look stressed, like you’re pushed past your breaking point, but have too much inner strength to be beaten down. I think you want a hug.”
I put up my hand, palm out. “The one thing I will say, with absolute assurance, is that I do not want a hug from you.”
“You sure about that?”
“Definitely.”
“Hmm…” His attention shifts down. “I give the best hugs.”
“I don’t…” I nearly stamp my foot but catch myself. “Mr. S, thank you for your concern, but I’m okay. My water just went down the wrong hole.”
“Call me Max, and I might believe you, except…” His eyes narrow, like he’s caught me in a lie.
“Except, what?”
“Luv, you weren’t drinking water. In fact, you barely touched anything on your plate. If you’re going to lie, you need more practice.”
“I’m not…”
He holds up a finger, silencing me. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’m good at keeping secrets.” He glances down the hall, toward one of the courtyards. “I was going to head outside and check out the garden. Would you like to accompany me?”
“Mr. S…”
“Max.” He rocks back on his heels and gives a shake of his head.
My attention shifts back toward the dining room. The hallway is empty.
“Max…” I give in and relent. Why I do this is beyond me, but there’s something about Max that tells me I can trust him. I know it makes no sense. He’s the worst of the worst. Perhaps not as malignant as Benefield, but Max is here to purchase a slave.
A slave.
He’s not a confidant. He’s not here to rescue me. He’s a man who sees something he can’t have, and he’s doing everything he can to undermine Benefield’s authority over me.
I grew up around powerful men. This is the same game I’ve seen played out a hundred times. Only, instead of a wife, or a mistress, I’m the woman he can’t have. To a man like Max, that’s intolerable.
“Will you join me?” He gestures down the hall.
“I’m sorry, but I need to get back. Tomas doesn’t like it when I…”
“I see.” He snaps his heels together, coming to attention. An odd move; it gives me pause. “Perhaps another time.”
“Perhaps.” With that, I excuse myself and make my way back to the dining room on shaky legs.
Max is quickly getting under my skin and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.
Benefield stands the moment I reenter the room. He pulls back my chair and offers his hand as I settle in place. I scoot in with his help then wait for him to sit back down beside me.
For a man who trains slaves, he’s going overboard in treating me like—like what? Not a girlfriend. Not a mistress. Not a wife. So, what is it? Why does he extend all the social courtesies to me, but to no other woman in his life? I don’t get it.
“How are you feeling, my Evie?”
Each time he calls me Evie, I cringe. With a false smile on my face, I give him my full attention.
“I’m sorry I had to leave.” I lean close and whisper in his ear. “I didn’t want to go into a coughing fit in front of your guests.” I tap my throat again. “Still a bit of a tickle, but much better now.”
“Good.” He takes my hand in his and gives it a light pat. “Dinner will be served shortly. Did you see Mr. S in the hall?”
There’s absolutely nothing to be gained by lying to Benefield. He knows everything, or will once he reviews the tapes recording the whole thing.
“I did. He wanted to take a stroll in the gardens. I think your birds fascinate him.”
“Is that so?”
“I suppose so.”
“Why didn’t you join him?” The tone in his voice changes. I’ve learned his moods. Hell, I survive only because I can read him so well.
“I wanted to get back to you. The first night is the most important and my place is by your side.”
“That it is, my dearest Evie. That it is.” He keeps his voice low and his head tipped over, close to mine. “And what are your thoughts about our guests?”
I don’t answer right away. Benefield expects me to give him my honest thoughts.
“Mr. B remains eager to grow his stable of girls. More equates to power with him, but he’s rough on the girls. He will go through his slaves quickly and be a frequent customer.”