Dollars (Dollar #2)

My chin rose defiantly.

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck, you push me.” Ripping off the sheet like he did yesterday, he muttered, “You can either walk, or I carry you. Your choice.”

I shot upright.

The thought of his arms around me again—protecting me while threatening me—was too much to deal with so soon.

I’ll walk.

My legs swung out of bed as I glowered.

He smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

What was his deal? He was so gruff, so pissed off—as if I’d done something to annoy him. It was his fault he felt that way. I didn’t ask him to come back for me.

You sort of did.

You begged him—remember? When he kissed you, you gave in. You willingly submitted for the first time…

I scoffed, shutting down those memories. I didn’t submit. I dove into pleasure I’d never had before. I gave in because I fully believed I was about to die and wanted to enjoy a splinter of normalcy between a man and a woman before I did.

What was so wrong with that?

Nothing. Just admit you liked him enough to kiss him back.

Never.

This man had intrigued me, but he’d extinguished any affection when he admitted I was his to do with as he pleased. He was just like the rest. He’d killed so easily. What was to prevent him from killing me once the novelty had worn off?

Taking my elbow, Elder helped me stand.

Air hissed through my nostrils as I struggled in his grip.

“Don’t fight me, Pim.” His features sharpened. “You won’t win.”

His fingers bit into painted bruises, reactivating the obedience Alrik had instilled in me.

I allowed him to help me out of bed, wincing as my warm toes met chilled tiles.

I wobbled a little, doing my best to stay standing. Elder didn’t let me go, but his touch turned gentle rather than commanding.

Dr. Michaels had removed my drip an hour or so ago, saying he’d give me real food once he knew the minor nausea I’d suffered wouldn’t make me throw up. He said stomach acid on my tongue’s wound would not be good for anyone.

I totally agreed.

I needed to be close to the doctor I felt marginally comfortable with. I didn’t want to move in with a man who made my heart gallop when it shouldn’t be galloping at all. Not in its current condition.

But he didn’t give me a choice.

“Come.” Dragging me forward, Elder’s grip once again changed from gentle to unyielding.

I shuffled forward, stiff as a plank and uncoordinated. Seeing as I tried to obey but struggled, Elder slowed.

Cupping my elbow, he took some of my weight. “Each step will get easier. Another few weeks and your body will be able to move without pain.”

I blinked at how wondrous that sounded.

To move without shin splints, throbbing knees, and radiating bruises. To be healthy enough to exercise and not just stumble in servitude. Even my swollen tongue couldn’t detract from that delicious promise.

I took another step.

A crooked smile danced on his lips, but he didn’t speak as he slowly guided me from the ward down a long corridor. He didn’t yank me forward but he did keep a firm pressure, giving me time but bending me to his will.

Together, we padded down the steel grey carpet with a white monogram of the same ghostly logo on the stationery I’d been given.

Damn, I left the notepad behind.

The pen too.

But not my dollar bill.

My fingers tightened, protecting my crimson-soaked secret.

Coming to a stop, Elder pressed a silver button by a single set of elevator doors. He looked down, catching my gaze. “Pay attention. When you’re summoned for a check-up with the medical team, you’ll need to remember which deck to go to.”

You mean…I’ll be allowed to wander around unwatched?

The thought was mildly terrifying.

I’d had free roam of Alrik’s mansion, but the cameras kept me heeled tightly on my proverbial leash. I had no doubt Elder would have cameras too, but I didn’t mind him watching me nearly as much.

Why is that?

He’s still a man.

Still a dominating bastard.

But that kiss…

My mind flittered back to the kiss as the elevator dinged, opened, and Elder stuffed us into the small mirrored box.

My lips sparked as he pressed the button for deck two, and we flew upward. The air in the lift intensified, crackling with awareness.

Would he kiss me like that again? Was that why he’d stolen me? To finish what he’d promised the night he’d let me sleep unmolested beside him?

Even if he wanted to kiss me again, he couldn’t. I had stitches in my tongue. I was hurt.

That never stopped other men.