Caleb woke, startled and anxious. He reached for the dream as it raced to abandon his conscious mind. There was something…something important. It was gone.
Frustrated, it took him a moment to realize Kitten’s eyes were scanning him. She looked like shit. The bruises on her face were much more pronounced than they had been the night before. Her eyes were swollen and purple against her russet skin. Her nose, free of tape, also looked inflamed. Under the damage, he could still see Kitten, surviving despite it all.
His heart again – it seemed to pinch in his chest. He kept it from registering on his face. He struggled for words. After their encounter last night and still reeling from Rafiq’s text, what could he possibly say? All he had to offer was more bad news.
He settled for stating the obvious, “It’s morning.”
Kitten’s brows furrowed and she winced from the effort. “I know. I’ve been up for a while,” she said morosely.
Caleb glanced away, feigning interest in his surroundings. He’d nearly fucked up—nearly fucked her. That could never happen. A sense of urgency filled him. They had to leave this place, as soon as possible, but he couldn’t make himself say the words. The night had been intense.
“Are you…in pain? Can you sit up?” Caleb whispered.
“I don’t know. I’m in too much pain to try,” Kitten whispered just as softly.
They stared at each other, a second too long, gazes touching too closely before they both quickly, almost frantically, darted their eyes away, choosing to look anywhere but at one another.
“Or maybe I’m just too terrified to think about what’s going to happen today. Or tomorrow. Maybe I just want to go back to sleep and wake up from my life.” There was pain in her voice and he knew it wasn’t physical. Caleb glanced in her direction and noticed she wasn’t crying. She was simply staring off into space, too numb for tears, Caleb supposed. He knew the feeling well.
And now this. Limbo. A state of existence he’d never experienced. He felt immobilized by what had happened, about everything, because as fucked up as it had been before, he’d been in control and removed. Now, their situation was untenable. Their continued existence around each other would only cause more pain and agony. Caleb scratched his face, digging his fingers into his stubble, as if, by distraction, he would never have to look at Kitten again, never have to tell her they had to leave, and, despite last night…she was still his prisoner. He was still her master.
“Fuck it,” she huffed, her voice strong, as though awakening from the numb void and becoming vibrant and willful again, “let’s get this over with, Caleb. What the hell happens, now?”
Caleb. He just looked at her. There it was again, the use of his name. He knew he should correct her, force her to address him as Master, and restore the delineation, the barriers between them, but he just couldn’t, fucking, do it. He was exhausted! So, damn, exhausted.
“Breakfast, I suppose. Afterward, we have to leave. Beyond that, I don’t care to discuss it,” he said. He tried to force some semblance of levity, but it fell flat and Kitten knew it.
“And last night?” She tried to keep her tone neutral, but Caleb knew her too well now and he didn’t have to guess at what she was really asking. She wanted to know if she meant something to him, if the fact they’d almost...fucked, changed his mind about selling her into slavery. The answer was yes…and, no. Vladek still needed to pay, and Kitten, still had her part to play. They were past the point of no return.
“I told you everything you wanted to know.” He paused, tempering his tone. “I’m not saying any more. So, stop asking.” He bolted out of bed and rushed toward the bathroom. Inside, he avoided his reflection and searched for a toothbrush. Two of them sat near the sink. He chose the least chewed and put some toothpaste on it. Germs were the least of his concerns. Although he’d showered only hours ago, he turned on the hot water, only the hot water, and set about stripping from his borrowed clothes.