Artreau’s eyebrows hit his forehead.
“You care about the boy enough to come in here and demand that I help him?”
Panic swells in my chest. I don’t want him to know I care about Rainer, because he’ll end up hurting him even more. So instead, I keep my face blank and say, “No. I care about people in general, and when someone helps me the way he did, I’m not going to just pat him on the back and say thank you.”
Artreau grins. “Well, you haven’t learned much from me then, have you?”
I grit my teeth, but don’t answer.
“So you want him to get medical assistance,” he says, rubbing his chin. “I wonder what that’ll cost you.”
“Whatever it is,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”
Artreau flashes a grin at me. “Well, if that’s the case . . .”
His voice trails off and he stares down at my breasts, and I know, I just know what he’s going to ask. Bile burns my throat and my hands begin to tremble, but I’ll do whatever it takes to give Rainer the medical help he needs. If I don’t, he’ll die. I could never live with that. Not that I’m entirely sure I can live with this, either.
“Just say what you want,” I rasp out through clenched teeth.
“Oh, you know exactly what I want. If you want your friend to get the help he needs tonight, then you will warm my bed, dear Pippa, and I don’t mean just sleeping.”
I have to force my legs not to buckle at the words. Instead, I hold my head high and say, “If you promise to give me what I need for him, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You list what you need, and I’ll give it.”
Lord help me.
“I need antibiotics, something to stitch his skin, and an ointment to keep infection out. I also need patches to cover him. Oh, and painkillers.”
“Done,” Artreau says.
I nod.
“Now,” he purrs, stepping closer and grabbing my hip. His fingers pinch into my skin and I want to vomit on the spot. “Where shall we start?”
“Wait,” I rasp. “You give me what I need, or have it delivered to the room before . . . before . . .”
“Very well.” Artreau sighs. He walks over and picks up his phone. “Yes, take the following items to the room and hand them over to the slave we whipped. Antibiotics, ointment for his wound, a needle and thread for stitching, a bandage and some painkillers. Call me when you’ve done this.”
He slams the phone down and turns to me. “Happy?”
“Not until you get that call back,” I say in a hard, steely voice.
Artreau rolls his eyes and pours himself a drink as he waits. I pray that something will happen and I will be able to get out of this, but I fear that’ll never happen. I just have to close my eyes, pretend I’m somewhere else, and tell myself that this is for Rainer. It’s for Rainer, who sacrificed for me.
The sound of the call coming back in jerks me from my thoughts. Artreau answers, nods, and then hangs up.
“It’s been delivered.”
He steps forward and I clench my eyes shut as he grabs my hip again. He squeezes painfully, and I know, I just know he isn’t going to take this easy. He pushes me towards the couch and my legs tremble with fear. Revulsion floods my body, and I want nothing more than to throw up all over him.
I block out as much as I can as he pushes me down, positioning his lanky, disgusting body over mine. I can feel his hardness against my thigh and I have to fight against myself, because all I want to do is take hold of it and twist it off. You’re not here, Pippa. Go somewhere else. This is for Rainer. This is for Rainer.
Artreau doesn’t waste time. His fingers go under my shirt and cup my breasts. “Pathetic. I thought you would at least have something to grab hold of. Let’s hope what’s between your legs is a little more impressive.”
Shame and horror wash through my body as he grabs my shorts, pulling them out, and shoving his hand down my panties. He cups my sex and I cry out, squirming. No, I don’t want this. I don’t want it. Oh God, help me. Please, someone help me. I gag as his finger enters a place that no man has ever been. I’m going to pass out.
Someone help me.
The phone rings.
Then a loud banging rings through the room.
Artreau curses and shoves off me, removing his hand from my panties. As soon as his weight is gone, I roll to my side and sob loudly, horrified. I feel so disgusting, so dirty, I want to be sick and die all at once. Voices fill the room and then Artreau is by my side, hauling me up.
“Get out. I have business to take care of.”
He’s distracted, not even here anymore. His eyes are distant. He shoves me into the arms of the guard and mutters, “I’ll deal with you later.”
He says it, but he doesn’t seem to be thinking about me at all. Whatever news was just shared with him has made him forget about me altogether.
Someone answered my prayers.
~*~*~*~
The guard shoves me into our room and slams the door behind me. I stumble forward and straight into Rainer’s chest. He’s been standing there, waiting for me. My face presses against the firm ridges beneath his shirt, and he holds me so tightly I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. I don’t care. I’d do it all over again for him.
“What did you do, Pippa?” he rasps, his voice broken. “What did you do?”
I let out a broken sob and he walks us backwards to his bed, which he has pushed right next to mine. He sits on it with a pained hiss, but refuses to let me go, holding me close. I cry so hard my body shakes. The memory of Artreau’s fingers touching my most sensitive flesh makes me want to scream. Internally, I am. I’m breaking to pieces.