Chapter 5
Day 8
I woke to find Logan still curled around me, his head nestled in my shoulder, lips on my skin. His heated breath was slow and even to match his heartbeat against my back. His arm lay heavy over my side, and our fingers weaved together like lovers after a night of passion.
I squeezed my eyes shut imagining nothing in the last week had been real and that I lay in Logan’s arms after he made love to me. He’d wake up and kiss me, and I’d be lost within his touch.
I felt the ache between my legs as I let my imagination roam. His thigh resting over mine, hard and warm. Him on top, the feel of his weight making my desire flood every nerve in my body.
His hands caressing my skin, soft then possessive as if he couldn’t get enough of me. I moaned as I imagined his fingers playing with my hair while his other hand squeezed our interlocked fingers. Then his lips kissed my shoulder, and I nearly leapt out of my skin when the desire shot right through me, and I realized it was no longer my imagination.
I scrambled out of his arms so fast that I fell off the bed. When I came to my feet Logan was lying on his back an arm casually laid over his abdomen. He turned slightly to look at me, and I felt the coldness in his gaze trickle over me.
“Go shower, Emily.” He nodded to the right where I saw a door.
I didn’t think twice about following his orders as I ran to the refuge of the bathroom, but before I could shut the door he said, “Leave it open.”
My hand dropped from the door handle even though all I wanted to do was slam it shut and lock it; of course there was no lock to keep him out. Regardless, a deadbolt wouldn’t keep Logan out. I suspected nothing would.
In a way, that was partly why I fell for him. He was determined and focused. Unfathomable. He was confident with no fear. A steady resolve as if nothing could break him. It was a scary hot, and it made me feel protected. Now ... it scared me. Because now I didn’t trust him.
I started to undo the buttons of my white nightgown he’d given me to wear, and when I looked in the mirror I gasped. He could see me. From the bed he watched me in the mirror undressing. His hands were locked behind his head, and his face was unreadable as he stared.
My fingers fumbled on the buttons, and it took me several tries to get the last one undone. I closed my eyes as I slid the silk material off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I wasn’t going to look at him, I tried to stop myself, but I opened my eyes and froze.
Heat. Blazing desire in the dark depths of his eyes. He looked me up and down slowly, casually as if he had all the time in the world ... And he did. He controlled everything about me now. If he became bored or annoyed with me he could sell me without a moment’s hesitation. That alone made me do anything he wanted.
I lowered my head so I couldn’t see his expression, and then opened the frosted glass door to the shower and stepped inside.
Was he going to come in after me? Would he touch me? Hold me? Make love to me? What was I thinking? There would never be making love again, it would be f*cking. The question was whether it would be willing or not.
I turned on the tap to straight cold wincing as the freezing water hit my skin. It jolted any desire I was foolishly feeling over Logan right down the drain.
I quickly washed my hair then picked up the washcloth to scrub the stench off my skin. I rubbed so hard that my skin turned bright red. I lightened the pressure on the back of my legs and avoided my back, where my skin was still raw. I needed to get the feeling of Alfonzo and Jacob and Raul off me. Logan? Why hadn’t I even thought of Logan? Why wasn’t I sick to my stomach at the thought of him holding me all night?
“Come out here.”
The washcloth dropped from my hands as I looked and saw the outline of Logan leaning up against the counter, arms crossed.
I turned off the taps and came out. He looked me up and down and frowned then reached over and grabbed the towel hanging on the hook. He came toward me, then began drying my skin. There was nothing methodical about it either. It was slow and sensual; he held the towel in his palm, so his thumb could brush over my skin with each stroke. His hand slid over my abdomen then lower until his hand rested on my mound. He stopped and looked at me. “Open.”
I swallowed. Then inched my legs apart closing my eyes. I had mixed emotions, because I felt embarrassed, and yet there was a flicker of desire. There was a fine line he was drawing here, and I just wasn’t sure which way it would go.
He stepped closer. His thumb skimmed between my legs with the towel trailing. I held my breath. He never took his eyes off me as he discovered the smooth silky moisture of my craving. I stopped breathing, hating that he knew I was turned on.
His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched.
Then like it never happened, he quickly dried my inner thighs then threw the towel on the floor. “Leave off the nightgown. Go kneel by the bed.”
I opened my mouth to ... What, tell him off? Tell him no? Refuse to do what he asked and risk being beaten or thrown in the basement with Jacob? Or worse sold?
I walked out of the bathroom and heard the water turn back on just as I knelt on the floor. I knew what this was about; I wasn’t stupid. I figured it out the second I saw the girls in the dining room. He was training me.
I was Logan’s sex slave, although sex had yet to come into play, but I had no doubt it would. He’d brought my birth control pills for Christ’s sake. I was to do what he wanted without question—never disobey, never speak unless asked to, and submit to all men. I belonged to him, and it was not by free will.
Logan came out of the bathroom naked. “Eyes down.”
I could hear him getting dressed, the cupboard door opening, rustling clothes, and then a click as the cupboard shut again. His footsteps drew close then stopped in front of me.
“Open your mouth.”
I did, and he put a slice of apple in my mouth.
“Today you will come with me to my training. You must learn what to do when in public, Emily.” His fingers held another slice of apple, and I opened my mouth, and he slid it inside. “Behave like this, and we won’t have any issues.”
My stomach churned at the thought of witnessing the last scene in the dining area. I was afraid I’d panic and run or fight. Logan tried to feed me another piece of apple, but I turned my head away.
“You have to eat.”
I shook my head.
“Open.”
“No. I can’t. Please. I feel sick to my stomach. Logan plea—” I stopped suddenly knowing instantly that I’d used his real name when I was told not to. I still had the red marks on my skin from the whip and never wanted to feel the cruel slice of it again. I lowered my head. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
I started trembling.
When his hand came down on my shoulder I lost it and started crying. Was going to whip me? Or take me to Jacob? It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to call him by name.
“Emily.” I kept sobbing, my head in my hands rocking. “Look at me.”
I did. I had to or suffer something worse than what I anticipated.
He cupped my chin and rubbed his thumb over top of the crevice just below my lower lip. “You cannot use my name here. Ever. I think you know that.” I nodded. “If you need to call me something, it must be Master.”
My breath hitched.
“Say it.”
The word was trapped in my clogged throat; I was filled with denial of what I had to do. For some reason the idea of calling any man Master was ... It was humiliating, degrading. God, it made me feel like an object with no self-worth.
His hand tightened on my chin. “Emily.”
It was just a word. It was just a word. “Master.”
“Good girl.” He didn’t smile; actually he frowned, and then he got up abruptly and went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
I waited on my knees until he finally came back out a cold mask of determination on his face. I didn’t like that face, it wasn’t mad or calm or smiling; it was unreadable, and that was dangerous.
“A girl will bring you clothes. Wear them. I’ll be back to get you in a half hour.” He didn’t even bother looking at me as he walked past, unlocked the door, and left.
When he came back I was dressed in a black dress that dipped so low in the front that it barely covered my nipples. It fit tight to my body, over my hips to my upper thigh. It wasn’t sexy; it was trashy, and I felt that way. I would have rather worn the white nightgown than this dress.
Logan told me to stand then looked me up and down, and then, as if satisfied, nodded and reached out his hand. I walked toward him and took it.
“I wanted to keep you hidden from this, but that isn’t going to happen. You need to learn to tune out what is happening around you. Just like I taught you to overcome your fear with anger, you need to overcome your emotions and bury them. Numb, Emily. That is what it will take to survive.”
Why was he telling me this? So, I didn’t freak out again? What did he care if I was tortured? He watched another man shove his fat finger up inside me, did nothing as I was whipped over and over again. Why does he care about me at all?
“Come.” He pulled me after him, and we made our way through the massive house, girls passing us, heads lowered, never making eye contact. Several guards wandered the premises, and I noticed some of the doors had a guard standing outside of them.
Logan ignored everyone and walked with long strides through the complex down a path to another building that had two guards standing on the outside. When they saw Logan they opened the double doors and nodded to him.
I kept my head down, but I tried to see as much as I could as we passed what looked like a set of weights then several red punching bags where two men were currently working out.
Logan stopped. “Stay here.”
I waited, hearing the constant sounds of smacks and grunts as men trained. In front of me was a platform where two guys were sparing. I couldn’t get a good glimpse without raising my head, and in a room full of men I didn’t want to take the chance of anyone seeing me. I was learning fast about what was expected of me, and the pain and humiliation was far less if I kept my mouth shut and my eyes down.
Was that weak? No, it was survival. There’s a time and place where I’d fight, and I would. I didn’t know if it was in me to ever give up. I’d never given up on my dream to ride horses. My mom was an alcoholic who insisted I was useless, ugly, and fat, so I did what I had to ... I worked after school since I was sixteen and saved every cent. Then at eighteen I moved in with Kat and her brother Matt. It was Matt who let me borrow his car so that every weekend I could go to the stable.
“Emily.” Logan’s voice slammed into me, and I looked up at him. He frowned, and I quickly lowered my head again. He chin-lifted to a spot over to the right of the ring. “Kneel over there. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”
He wanted me to kneel on the cement floor? To stay there and wait for him like a dog? Why didn’t he stick a prong collar on me while he was at it? My thoughts must have been vivid in my expression, because he grabbed my arm and walked me over to where he wanted me to kneel and pushed me down.
I opened my mouth.
“No.” His abrupt, cold warning was enough to have me looking at my hands in my lap. He nodded to the left, and my eyes looked in the direction, but I was careful to keep my head down. My chest tightened when I saw Jacob, Alfonzo, and Raul. They were near the door talking to a guy hitting a speed bag.
I stiffened when they began their approach, and my entire body was already running and hiding in one of the cupboards on the other side of the room. A foolish and completely useless thought, but when men you feared were coming toward you, well your mind came up with the most ridiculous ideas.
“Sculpt,” Raul said. “Where’s Dave?”
“On his way.”
“Good.” Raul’s eyes shifted to me, and I quickly lowered my head even further. “I have a shipment coming in that needs to be checked out. After training, you and Alfonzo will go look after the contents.”
I knew how angry Logan was by the slight twitch of his index finger on his left hand. He wasn’t happy about Raul’s request or, rather, his order. “Send someone else.”
Raul slapped Logan on the back and chuckled. “If I wanted someone else to go, I’d have asked them.”
“I fight. I’m not one of your men.”
Raul shrugged then reached down and grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to my feet and shoved me at Alfonzo. “You’re right. You’re not one of my men, and my fighters don’t get slaves as they are a distraction.” Raul nodded to Alfonzo. “Get her out of here. Put her up on auction. Forty thousand.”
My eyes widened with panic as Alfonzo leered down at me. His beady eyes laughed at the fear trembling through my body.
“I’ll do it.” Logan’s tone was cold and calm, but loud enough for Raul to take notice and hold up his hand to Alfonzo. “Let her go.” Logan glared at Alfonzo, and I thought he might smash his fist into his face. “Now.”
“Let her go, Alfonzo.” Raul’s thin lips pressed together as he stared at me, and I had the impression that he wasn’t pleased with the fact that Logan had spoken up for me.
Alfonzo shoved me forward, and I fell on my knees in front of Logan. I kept my head down, my tears of relief hidden behind my veil of hair.
The door opened with a loud bang; then running feet came toward us. “Sorry I’m late. Let’s do this, Sculpt.”
Logan didn’t wait to be excused by Raul. I saw his feet turn, and heard him walk away, leaving me with Raul and the others.
“Don’t think he’ll protect you all the time.” Raul leaned over as he spoke in his squeaky, accented voice. He reached out, and it took everything inside me to remain as still as possible. I clenched my teeth together so hard that my head vibrated. His fingers slid through my hair then to my shoulder and across the front of my neck then down ... His hand cupped my breast as he ran his thumb back and forth over my nipple.
I kept my eyes closed and repeated over and over in my head that nothing could touch me, nothing could touch me.
“If he loses his fight you’re mine.” Raul squeezed my nipple hard, and I winced. “You’re like all the rest. Do not think you’re anything special.”
With that he stood and strode away with Jacob and Alfonzo. I collapsed forward, my hands covering my face as I sobbed, letting my hair fall forward so no one could see. Raul was terrifying. Calculated and cruel. He enjoyed watching others suffer. He had no morals or values and did what he wanted without thought to the ramifications for others. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.
“Emily. Look at me.” Logan was standing in the ring, sweating and his chest heaving. Our eyes met, and I saw the fury burning within the depths of his dark eyes. I didn’t know whether he was angry at me, because I’d been crying or was it from something else? He stared at me for a few moments and finally I settled down enough to stop trembling. Then Logan nodded, turned away, and began fighting Dave again.
I had no idea what Logan’s stare was about, but I did feel more together ... Well, as together as I could be kneeling in a gym surrounded by men who could and would abuse me if given the chance.
I guessed it was about an hour when Logan finished his practice. I watched him speak quietly to Dave away from the other men in the gym, and he didn’t look happy. I saw Dave glance over at me, then his mouth moved quickly and angrily as if he was just as pissed off as Logan.
When Logan turned toward me, I quickly lowered my head and kept my eyes down. I stayed that way until I saw the tips of his toes next to my knees.
“Dave will take you back.”
My breath hitched, and I wanted to protest, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. The fear of the consequences was too great to ignore. “He won’t hurt you, Emily.”
“Yes ... Master.” I wanted to die. Oh God, I wanted to curl up in a ball and die of mortification. Calling him Master was degrading, and it made me feel like less of a person, like my mother used to do. A useless object that took up space and ate her food.
Logan stroked his hand over my head once then turned and walked away.
I stood when Dave told me to, then walked a few feet behind him back to my room. I never looked at anyone, not even out of the corner of my eye. I had no idea what Dave would do to me, and that was scarier than knowing. I’d been too drugged to remember much of what he was like in the car on the way here, but what I did notice was that he failed to have the lust lingering in his eyes when he looked at me. Instead, I saw sympathy and pity. I hated the pity, but I’d take it over Alfonzo’s lust-filled threats.
Dave stopped outside my room. “He’ll protect you when he can. But he’s faltering. Do exactly as you’re told, and you will survive this, Emily.” I was taken aback by his words. He opened the door, and I walked inside. He shut it behind me, and I heard the key turn and then his footsteps walk away.
I was asleep in bed when I heard the door open later that evening. I sat up, pulling the sheet with me, and about to go kneel on the floor when his voice stopped me.
“Stay in bed.” His tone was tired and gentle, quiet.
He walked straight into the bathroom, shut the door, and I heard the taps turn then the water blast. I lay back down and tucked the sheet around me. It wasn’t long before he came out, the light in the bathroom illuminating his naked body.
The tweak between my legs shattered any resolve I had to not be attracted to this man. My belly dropped as I watched him stride over to the side of the bed and then drag the covers back with the sheet tucked under me.
He slipped in bed then laid back, his elbow crooked above his head and his other arm resting on his abdomen. He looked ... God, he looked like Logan. The Logan I knew. The Logan I fell in love with. There was nothing cold about him tonight; actually he appeared vulnerable, and his eyes ... his eyes held a hint of sadness. Could this man even feel sadness? Could I be reading him wrong? I’d read him wrong before, and yet ... I wanted to hold him. I just wasn’t sure why.
Was it because I felt alone and scared, and I wanted someone? Anyone? Even if it was the man who brought me here? Or was it to solidify my place with him? To show him affection so he wouldn’t be inclined to sell me.
I slowly moved closer to him, my heart beating erratically with fear of rejection, and yes ... yes, anticipation of touching him. Not because I had to touch him, but because I wanted to. I glanced up at his face, and his eyes were closed, his breathing even.
I pictured us lying beside one another in the park after he’d played me his guitar and sang to me. That wasn’t a lie was it? How could it have been? It felt real and sincere.
I held my breath as I slipped my hand on top of his lying on his stomach. His breathing remained the same, and his eyes remained closed. I moved closer, my body inches from his, soaking in his heat, then I lay my head on his chest.
“Mouse,” he whispered, and then his arm wrapped around me and tucked me into his side.
I sighed, and a few minutes later I was asleep.