Already my blood popped and fizzed with terror. My body wept achy tears at the thought of what would happen. The only thing granting courage to inch across the floor was the intoxicating scent of Mr. Prest and the warm heaviness of his blazer.
I belonged to a beast. But if that was true and Master A was an animal, then Mr. Prest was the game warden. He was the master with the locks and keys and power. He had the jurisdiction to whip such animals into submission, to starve them for bad behaviour, and force them to behave against their base desires.
I didn’t know which was worse.
The animal or the ringleader.
“Get Mr. Prest’s jacket off your worthless fucking body, Pim!” Master A snapped as I padded closer, making me flinch.
My fingers rushed to obey, pulling at the immaculate lapels and slipping the expensive material down my arms.
I mourned the loss of heat and comfort immediately.
Mr. Prest held up his hand. “No, I said she can keep it.” His eyes turned evil as he looked at Master A. “And I do mean that. When I return in a few days, I expect to see she’s still in possession of it. Got that?”
Master A swallowed his rage, unsuccessfully hiding the anger on his face. “Fine.”
“Good.”
Turning his dangerous gaze on me, Mr. Prest murmured, “Until we meet again, silent one. Don’t ruin my gift.” With a last lingering look, he permitted himself to be ushered from the white mansion.
The way Master A kicked him out offered no respect or politeness.
The way Mr. Prest stalked outside extended no gratefulness or acceptance.
Battle lines had been drawn, and I had an awful feeling it’d been because of me.
I hadn’t instigated it.
I wasn’t a spoilt girlfriend flirting with her lover’s acquaintances to cause problems. I was just a girl begging for a quiet existence, wishing to vanish so she never had to see another male again.
Rage from both of them plaited together, buffeting my body as the door slowly swung closed. Rage that would earn me broken parts, and salvaged parts, and parts I wished would just give up living and perish.
Breathing through an oncoming panic attack, I kept my eyes on the final sliver of the driveway.
The last thing I saw, before everything dissolved into a fit of agony, was the terrifying stranger and his powerful back as he walked away.
THE MOMENT MR. Prest left, I drifted toward the corridor and staircase.
I’d played my part. I’d been the pawn in Master A’s business transaction.
I was done.
“Oh, Piiiimmm.” Master A’s taunt rang out behind me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
My back straightened even as adrenaline shot down my legs. Every instinct screamed for me to run. Run and hide and get as far away as possible.
But I wouldn’t run.
I never ran.
Because running was a weakness, and I was many things, but I refused to be that.
Cocking my chin, I gave him a look and continued my trajectory toward the corridor. The sound of his shoes on tiles sent carving knives flaying my spine.
“You know not to turn your back on me, Pimlico.”
Just keep going.
A few more feet.
My left hand splayed out to touch the doorframe as I left the lounge and took a shaky breath. One step, two, three. My bare toes touched the first stair; my racing heart made me shudder as I clutched the polished banister.
“Come back here.” Master A picked up his pace, appearing a few metres behind me. He cracked his knuckles, tilting his head in a well-known threat. “You didn’t think you’d get off so easily, did you? You know you fucked up tonight.”
His teeth shone savagely white. “You sat at my fucking table, you bitch. You ate my food. You enticed my guest. You were rude to me, and you know what that means.”
Every step he took toward me, my cells bellowed louder to bolt.
It was so hard to ignore. So hard, I had to clutch the banister to keep myself in place; my poor knuckles popped with pressure.
But I didn’t increase my speed.
No matter he stood like a gun ready to fire, just waiting for me to fly away, I climbed the steps slowly, regally, with my head held high and silence draped like a glittering gown around me.
I’d let myself down once tonight with my panic attack. The undermining terror that I couldn’t control struck my fragile power at the worst possible time. To think the stranger had seen me that way. Heard me breathless and blue.
Oh, God.
The embarrassment was new. I’d had no reason to value what another thought of me for so long…until him.
But it didn’t matter. He’d left. I’d never see him again. After what Master A would do to me tonight…who knew if I’d ever see anyone again.
Seven steps, eight, nine.
Twenty-seven more to go and I’d be in my room, my jail. If I could get there, perhaps Master A would remember that I was his not Mr. Prest’s. Another man could touch me, use me at the discretion of my owner, but they would never take me away.
Only I could do that by taking my life or his.
My spine crawled with imaginary cockroaches, scurrying faster and faster.
Master A ascended the stairs soundlessly behind me. My ears strained, waiting for him to charge and pounce. But he never increased his speed, content to stalk me up the stairs, happy to see what I would do.
He wasn’t in a rush to chastise me. We both knew no other alternative existed for tonight.
He felt as if I’d disobeyed him.
I didn’t agree.