If he left her here she would be at Brendan’s mercy, and surely he would hurt her again, fuck her again. She shook her head, pleading with her eyes.
“I can’t trust you to tell me when something is wrong out there. You’re safer here.”
I’m not, she thought fiercely. I’m not safe here with your brother.
He frowned. “Maybe he’s right about you. About us. I didn’t want to send you off alone with strangers in a uniform. I figured they could do more harm than good, not understanding what you needed. But Brendan’s a Dom too. He can take care of you.”
No. Please no. Brendan scared her but more than that, she was healing under her master’s hand. Already she felt more able to think for herself, and she was terrified to lose it again.
His expression softened. “It won’t be so bad. He always knows the right thing to say.” He gave her an echo of a smile. “Most people prefer him to me anyway.”
Strangely it was his softening that alarmed her the most, as if he were apologizing for a decision already made.
“Please.” It was a breath of a sound, and it came from her.
His eyes widened a fraction as her word floated on the air between them. Slowly he leaned back in his chair, like a contented cat. “So, subby, you really do want to stay.”
Chapter Six
Apparently going for a walk included chopping down trees. He was a veritable lumberjack, her master. She found it adorable, although she doubted he would appreciate her sentiment. He wouldn’t know, of course. She hadn’t spoken since that one word in the kitchen.
He hadn’t tried to push her to talk more. He hadn’t even made a big deal out of the fact that she had, just went about his preparations for their walk, asking a couple of yes or no questions to which she nodded or shook her head. A weight had lifted. She knew she could speak. She just didn’t have to.
Ironically, her speaking seemed to have spurred on his own. He had sat her on a rock uphill so that he could measure and touch the trees.
“I don’t do this too often,” he panted, between swinging his ax. “Mostly I have the wood imported. I know that sounds strange, what with all these trees around, but I don’t want to do damage while I’m here. I just take a couple trees for smaller projects. This wood works beautifully for smaller carvings.”
Every thwack of wood resounded around her, through her, creating a strange emphasis to his words. As if there were something important in them—vital.
“The wood I order comes from sustainable farms on the mainland and considering my brother came this way anyway, it wasn’t much trouble for him to include my wood on the way in and my furniture on the way out.”
The tree fell over, swishing through the air and landing with a crash.
“Although now that his business here is over, I guess I’ll need a new plan.”
Suddenly she knew what she needed to ask. “What did he import?”
It was surprising how effortless it was to speak. Her voice sounded low but not hoarse.
He paused then strode quickly up to where she sat. “What did you say?”
She thrilled to see the banked excitement in his eyes, to know that he cared about her and what she had to say, but something heavier weighed on her now. “His shipping business. What does he ship?”
Master cocked his head. “Parts for manufacturing, for building. Once he got to transport a shipload of Maseratis. I think that was the high point. It’s mostly boring stuff. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious…Master.”
His look seared her. “You can call me by name.” He stepped directly in front of her and held out his hand. “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.”
She stared at it curiously, large and calloused and inexplicably familiar. Finally she reached out, and he took her hand and pulled her to him. She was enfolded in his arms, tucked under his chin, and she never wanted to leave.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“…don’t know.”
“Okay,” he said, accepting her words as if it were completely normal not to know her own name. As if she were normal.
“Number forty-five,” she mumbled. “Slave forty-five.”
She curled into his embrace, as if she could climb inside him, breathe only his musk, and be the beat of his heart. He smoothed her hair, ran his hands along her arms, still answering her unspoken pleas even though she could speak.
“I know this must be scary for you,” he murmured. “I’m going to help you however I can, but one day you’ll go back. No, shhh, not right now. You don’t have to leave tonight. But we could try to contact someone. Surely there are people who miss you, who want to know that you’re okay. A family.” He paused a beat. “A husband. Can you remember any of it?”
“Can’t… she doesn’t… she doesn’t know.”