Dollars (Dollar #2)

This is what I’m used to.

I could handle his anger because I could predict what came next and could turn off my mind. Self-preservation kicked in, and soon, I’d be free. Soon, my soul would clamp down and vanish deep inside.

Thank God.

It was the thinking that was making me change.

The free time and questions making me worry.

This…I knew this.

Elder bristled, his hands curling into fists. “You think bleeding in my presence is appropriate? I’ve done all I can to stop you bleeding. Is that a slap in my fucking face, saying I’m not doing enough?” He prowled forward, his chest almost touching mine.

I sighed heavily as I gave into his power.

Down and down I swirled, blank safety beckoning.

I hated that I accepted his rage so much more easily than I ever could his kindness. That I went searching for his animosity because I would never trust his calmness.

Not looking up, I kept my eyes respectfully on his shoes. With my unbroken hand, I pushed off the black shoulder strap, followed by the other, and let the dress slither over my body until I stood naked before him.

The room howled with masculine rage as Elder whipped upright and took a staggering step back. “What the fuck are you doing?”

What I’ve been taught.

My mind had retreated to where it couldn’t be touched. Hidden and protected, finally at peace after chasing its own tail with endless questions.

My body was in charge now, and my body was a creature of habit.

Falling to my stiff and gristly knees, I bowed at his feet.

He’d stolen me.

He might as well start using me the way he intended. It was better for both of us to know our places so I could return to the shell I’d made my home.

I thought I was strong enough to return to the real world. I thought I wasn’t broken enough that if I ever found freedom I could walk from the shadows and laugh and speak and love like any normal person.

But I knew the truth now.

Elder’s strange care had made me come to terms with something I never believed was possible. I was broken. All my inner speeches of being so strong and merely biding my time.

They were fiction.

I’m a liar.

My head bowed harder, my hair spilling over my shoulder.

And still, Elder didn’t move.

The door opened behind me, footsteps shuffling with the aromatic scents of the second course.

Everything exploded.

“Get the fuck out!” Elder bellowed.

A plate smashed to the floor, followed by the thud of a rolling baked potato. Muttered apologies fell then the door clanged shut and silence once again reigned.

Elder took a step closer to me, his black boot nudging my naked knee.

I didn’t shrivel or back away. My mind had flown free, leaving whatever remained at his mercy.

I didn’t care.

His joints didn’t make a sound as he slid to his haunches and grabbed my chin. “Under no circumstances are you to do that again, do you hear me?”

I looked blankly past him.

He shook me. “Pay attention. Don’t disappear on me. Don’t treat me like that bastard. Don’t make me become something I’ve fought so fucking long to avoid. I won’t slip. Not for you. Not for anyone.” His fingers dug into my cheeks. “As much as you expect me to and as gratifying as it would be, I said I wouldn’t hurt you. And I meant it.”

Words were cheap.

I knew how lies worked.

With a heavy growl, Elder stood.

My stomach muscles clenched, waiting for his kick but nothing came. Instead, he scooped me into his arms and picked me up just like the day he’d carried me bleeding and mostly dead from the white mansion.

Kicking open the dining room door, he stalked through the boat, taking the stairs rather than waiting for the lift and carrying me gruffly back to my room.

Every step was a full stop to the confusing conversation we’d shared. Every breath was a bracket around the truths we’d revealed and then smothered just as fast with falsehoods.

I didn’t know what was real anymore: what threat was truth and what truth was a lie.

The moment we were behind closed doors, Elder shoved me on the bed and paced away, jerking both hands over his face. “Goddammit, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

I lay there, naked and waiting, knowing enough not to move.

He continued pacing, muttering to himself. Finally, he prowled back. His large hands landed on my hips, dragging my body to the edge of the bed where he wedged his jean clad legs between mine. “This is what you want? To be fucked against your will? To be used against your permission?”

His fingers left bruises. It was nothing new.

“Tell me why? Why do you want pain when I want to give you safety? When I’m doing my damn fucking hardest to be a better man—to protect you from myself just like I protected you from him.”

I barely heard the question in my protective bubble.