Slave (23 page)

Read Slave Online

Authors: Sherri Hayes

He assured me that no information had been given and that the person had been informed that no information could be released without a court order. Apparently the person on the other end of the line hadn’t liked that answer and had then become rather forceful in their requests to the point where Oscar himself had had to take the phone and inform the caller that he would file an official grievance should this persist.

The man had quickly ended the call after that. And after talking with his secretary, Oscar realized that they had not even gotten the man’s name.

I, however, had a pretty good suspicion as to who it had been. My only question was why now, after eleven months, was Jonathan Reeves looking for his daughter?

Brianna

This week was full of mixed emotions for me. It had been filled with so many ups and downs.

Master seemed to be happy with me, even though I had embarrassed him in both the restaurant and the store on Monday. He’d been kind to me Tuesday as we’d talked again about the man at the store and then again after he’d stalked toward me like some kind of animal.

But he’d been right. The look in his eyes had been the exact look that had been in that man’s. Master hadn’t said anything about it after that night, but I had no doubt that he would at some time. It seemed he liked to talk about things, especially the things that scared me.

Wednesday I’d had more time to myself than usual since both the house was cleaned and I didn’t have to work out. It left me a lot of time to think, and my mind wouldn’t stop returning to what Lily had said.
No. I was never his slave. And neither are you.

So I decided I’d try to watch him closer than I had before. But by Friday night when he’d come home from work, I was still as confused and unsure as I had ever been.

A part of me just said to ask him. But what if Lily was wrong and I was his slave? I liked the way things were now. What if asking him changed things?

After dinner Friday he told me that we would be going over to his aunt and uncle’s house again on Sunday. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but of course it wasn’t my decision. We would go wherever Master wanted.

Saturday morning I woke up to find Master in the kitchen making eggs. I went to kneel, but he stopped me. “Set the table, please, Brianna.”

I moved to get the plates, silverware, and juice out on the table quickly. He brought the pan over with the eggs and divided them up on our plates. Then he walked back to the stove, bringing with him a plate full of bacon and another with four slices of toast.

Master lay everything down and took a seat. “Sit and eat,” he ordered.

Breakfast was very good. I noticed Master kept things simple when he cooked, but what he made was always tasty.

About halfway through, he spoke up. “It’s a beautiful day today, and we are going out. Make sure to wear shoes you can walk in. When you’re finished, do what you need to do and meet me by the door.”

That was all he said as we finished the rest of the meal in silence. He stayed seated until I was finished before getting up and removing our plates. I did as he’d instructed and went to my room to get ready.

My mind was racing as to what he might have in store for us today. Truthfully, I was both scared and excited. Would we go to a restaurant again, the mall, a store? Or would we go somewhere completely new?

Minneapolis was a big city, so it really could be anything. I just had to remember that he would take care of me. He would protect me. I would be fine.

When I came out of my room, Master was waiting for me. I walked to him with my head down, and he took my hand. We left our jackets at home and headed down in the elevator. This time, however, we didn’t go to the parking garage.

The elevator stopped and opened into a large lobby with marble floors. We walked down a short hallway toward a set of doors. But before we reached them, a man behind a large desk off to the right called out a greeting to Master. “Good morning, Mr. Coleman.”

“Good morning, Tom.” The man, Tom, smiled at my Master like he knew him well, and Master smiled back before leading me out the doors.

Master had been right. It was a beautiful start to a spring day. The sky was overcast, but it wasn’t raining, and the air felt warm against my skin.

We began walking briskly down the city streets. If I hadn’t been doing my workouts, I would never have been able to keep up with him.

There were people everywhere, but Master didn’t let go of my hand. We walked for over a mile before stopping in front of what looked like a bicycle shop. He pulled us both inside and after a few minutes we had a scooter and two helmets.

I’d never ridden a scooter before, but it turned out to be rather fun. My arms were wrapped around Master’s waist, and I was able to see so much of the city as he drove.

Soon we were driving out of the city. The number of buildings lessened, and the number of trees increased. I lost track of how long he’d been driving and just enjoyed the ride.

Once we left Minneapolis behind us it wasn’t too much farther before Master turned onto a side road that led to a park entrance. He followed a winding road through the trees that created a canopy above us. The road opened up ahead, and Master parked the scooter in one of the marked spots.

The scooter had a compartment under the seat where he placed the helmets before grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. We walked toward the trees, and I felt myself start to panic when I realized where we were going. The sign ahead gave little doubt as to what we were going to do. Hiking.

I was a horrible hiker. Trees literally came up from out of the ground just to trip me whenever I attempted it.

But even as the thought crossed my mind to tell him I couldn’t do this, I pushed it away. It didn’t matter where we were going any more now than it did before. This was what Master wanted, so this was what we would do. All I could attempt to do was not fall on my face.

It only took about fifty feet down the trail for me to trip over a root. Master was still holding my hand and felt me stumble. He made sure I was stable again before moving closer and placing his arm around my waist.

I still tripped a few times after that, even though I kept my eyes on my feet the entire time. But with Master’s arm around me, I never came close to falling.

We walked for what seemed like hours before he guided me off the path. The going was slower now. There were fallen trees and plants everywhere.

Suddenly the area opened up again and there was another trail before us. This one was different than the other. The overgrowth along the edges indicated it had not been used very often.

Then we stopped. He released me and reached into the back pocket of his jeans. When his hand reappeared he held a long black piece of fabric. I just stared and felt my panic begin to rise when he came to stand behind me.

Master’s arms appeared on either side of me. One hand held the black . . . scarf?

“I’m going to put this over your eyes, Brianna.” I swallowed and tried to remember to breathe. He didn’t say anything else as he took the free end of the material in his other hand and brought the middle level with my eyes.

And then there was nothing but black as he pulled the scarf and tied it securely behind my head. I was in total darkness.

Brianna

The utter lack of light was making me uneasy. It reminded me of being in Ian’s dungeon. But then I felt Master’s arms come around me, and I was able to calm myself. I was safe. With my Master.

Instead of wrapping around me, his arms only touched my sides. “Put your arms in front of you and take my hands, Brianna,” he instructed.

Blindly, I reached out using what I could feel as a guide. It took some work, but eventually I found his hands and laced my fingers with his.

Master’s hold was firm. “We’re going to walk together. It isn’t far, and I’ve got you so you won’t fall. Take your time and try to feel what is under your feet.”

I wasn’t sure I could do this, but I was willing to try. He wouldn’t let me fall.

I lifted my right foot and cautiously moved it forward. The ground was farther away than what it seemed without the blindfold.

My next step was just as unsure, as was the one following. I had no idea how long it was until he finally told me to stop. But even though we were no longer moving, he didn’t remove the covering from my eyes. Instead, I felt him move away from me.

As much as I tried to stop it, I felt the panic eating at me. Logic told me that he wouldn’t just leave me alone, but did I really know that for sure?

I did. Didn’t I?

Without being able to see, I could hear so many things. I knew we were still in the forest. There were birds everywhere, surrounding me. I could hear other noises, too, but I couldn’t quite define them.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I jumped when he spoke again.

“Today we are going to work on your focus,” he said. His voice was moving as if he was circling me. “I want you to walk forward. You may go as slowly as you need. Your hands are to remain at your sides,” he said, pausing as if to let that sink in. “I want you to tell me about your childhood. Your mother. Your pets. Your teachers.”

I took a deep breath. Talking about my mom, although making me sad, wouldn’t be that hard.

But then he continued. “I do not want you to stop talking until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” I said with confidence.

“Good, girl,” he said from behind me.

Then I felt something touch my hip. “While you’re talking, I’m going to periodically touch various parts of your body like this,” he said, giving my hip a light tap with what felt like a stick about the thickness of a pencil. “When I do, you will stop what you are saying long enough to say what part of your body I’m touching and then go back to your story. Can you do that?”

I nervously swallowed again but answered, “Yes. I think I can.”

“You think you can, Brianna?” he said, his voice taking on a slightly harsher tone.

I took a deep breath and gave him what he wanted. “Yes, Master. I can do it.”

“That’s better,” he said with a clear smile in his voice.

Then the pressure on my hip disappeared.

“Begin.”

He’d asked that I talk about my mom, so I focused my thoughts only on her. I took the first tentative step and started talking. “Mom had me when she was only nineteen. She wasn’t ready to settle down and get married, so she decided to move the two of us to Dallas.”

As soon as I said the word
Dallas
, I felt the slight pressure of the stick again. “Shoulder,” I said, before continuing with my story.

It seemed like I had talked for hours, telling him about my mom going back to school to become a teacher and how she’d gotten me a dog we’d called Rusty because of his red coat. I told him about Cliff. How mom had fallen head over heels for him and married him after only knowing him a month, but that when she was diagnosed with cancer, he’d taken off and served her with divorce papers not long after.

I hadn’t fallen, although it had been close a few times. Only once in the story did I miss calling out when he’d touched me. His response had been a harder tap to my thigh that left a light sting in its wake. I didn’t forget again.

Stephan

After contemplating Brianna’s reaction to the man at the store, I decided that it came down to focus. She had lost all knowledge of her surroundings when she saw him looking at her with primal hunger in his eyes. Her panic had set in because she could not rationalize that she was safe in the store with me rather than in danger.

We needed to work on getting her to stay focused even when her mind was on other things, especially if school was going to happen. This had seemed like the perfect place to start.

As she’d talked about her mother, her dog, and even her stepdad, I had moved around her, changing both my position and the angle at which the thin branch I’d selected made contact with her body. Keeping the touches unpredictable.

She’d done well. Four times she’d lost her footing, but in each instance she kept herself from falling. Only once did Brianna not immediately pause her story to do as I’d instructed. And after the small reprimand she seemed even more determined not to make the same mistake twice. Brianna had a stubborn streak. That thought made me smile.

I learned a lot about her as she talked. Brianna had grown up quickly, especially after her mother got sick and her stepfather abandoned them. I’d known she was strong and smart already, but this just made me admire her more.

And as much as I wanted to end today on a positive note, I knew that the time had come to get some real answers from her. The phone call from Oscar meant that her father was looking for her, and I needed to know how she would feel about that.

But before delving into a subject I suspected would be difficult for her, I told her to stop moving and let the stick drop to the ground as I stepped closer. I stopped just inches in front of her. And even though her eyes were still covered, she knew I was there.

Her breathing picked up, but there was no sign of panic. I leaned in and let my breath brush the hair behind her ear. “Not bad, Brianna. Only one slip.”

It took her a few seconds before I heard a soft
thank-you, Master
fall from her lips.

Keeping my face just a breath away from her skin, I moved my mouth down the line of her jaw so that my own lips were hovering just above hers. I could tell she was waiting for me to kiss her, but I wanted to see if she’d ask. I was hoping she would ask.

It took one hundred and forty-two seconds before I heard the words from her that I had wanted to hear. “May I kiss you, Master?”

I moved my lips directly in front of hers before I answered. “You may,” I whispered back.

Brianna’s mouth blindly sought mine. Our lips came together, and I followed her lead.

Her mouth glided with mine. It was so innocent that it was difficult not to plunge my fingers into her hair and kiss her the way I wanted.

I controlled myself, though, and waited until she pulled back slightly.

The look on her face was one of happiness that I was beginning to see more and more.

This time when the impulse to touch her came, I didn’t stop it. My hands came up to thread through the hair at the base of her neck. “Are you ready to continue, Brianna?”

“Yes, Master.”

I allowed my fingers to linger at her neck for a moment then took a step back and retrieved my makeshift cane from the ground. As quietly as I could, I moved to stand behind her. And just to make sure she was paying attention, I placed the tip of the stick at her lower back. Obediently she said, “Back.” My only response was a smile, which she couldn’t see.

It was time to get to the information I really needed. “Now, Brianna, I want you to tell me about your father.”

Her intake of breath was so sharp she almost choked. “I know you lived with him after your mother died. Tell me about him.”

This time when she didn’t talk or move, I brought the stick down on her behind with a slight flick of my wrist. She responded immediately. Slowly she took a small step and began to speak in the same monotone voice she used when she was distancing herself. “My dad came to my mom’s funeral, and then he took me back to Two Harbors, Minnesota with him. He’s the . . . leg . . . county sheriff.”

“J . . . John. He . . . My father . . .” I brought the stick to the top of her breast and it seemed to bring her out of the haze she’d started to fall into.

After answering with the appropriate body part, she continued her tale once again in the same lifeless tone. “Living with John was different. He worked and I went to school. I made dinner, did homework while he watched television. We didn’t . . . ankle . . . talk much.”

“Mom was outgoing. John . . . hip . . . was . . . leg . . .reserved. Mom always wanted to get out. Do things. John insisted we stay . . . home.”

I hadn’t missed her hesitation or the fact that she’d stumbled as she’d forced that last word out of her mouth. Leaning in, I once again pressed my lips close to her ear. “Where is your father now, Brianna?”

And then I heard a whimper escape her throat. “I don’t know, Master. Please don’t . . . I want to stay with you. I . . .” When I came back around to her front, the tears were streaming down her face.

I tossed the stick aside, pulled her into my arms, and lowered us to the soft ground. With her tucked into my chest, I reached up and removed the covering from her eyes.

She blinked several times, but instead of calming she cried harder and clung to my shirt. I wrapped my arms around her and just let her have a moment to release what had been building inside. Although I didn’t have all the answers yet, I did know one thing. Brianna had no desire to see her father.

We sat for a long time before her tears began to ebb. “Are you ready to talk to me?”

She nodded and burrowed her face even deeper in my chest.

I let a little chuckle escape me at that. “Love, I think it will work better if you talk to me rather than my shirt.”

She stiffened a little, but I rubbed her arm in reassurance. I wasn’t upset with her, and I could only imagine how difficult this was for her.

Brianna shifted slightly in my arms so that her cheek was resting against my shoulder. I brushed her hair back from her forehead and placed a soft kiss there, letting my lips linger. “Tell me how you came to be with Ian,” I said softly.

Again she nodded. “It was a Saturday. I was home . . . alone.” She swallowed and readjusted her grip on my shirt. “J . . . John.” I felt her lean into me when she said his name. “He’d gone to Minneapolis for . . .”

She paused. I felt a drop of moisture land on my hand and knew she was crying again. I held her tighter. It was all I could do at the moment. “He said he was going for . . . work.”

I had her folded against me with my arms around her waist. Her right hand wiggled its way out of its place between our bodies and gripped my hand. I gladly laced my fingers with hers.

After taking another deep breath, she continued. “I’d just finished cleaning up after lunch when the phone rang. It was . . . John. He told me that he wanted me to join him for dinner at a friend’s house in Minneapolis. That a car was on its way to pick me up. To be ready by three o’clock. To . . . dress nice.”

She held my hand tighter. “At three, a black car pulled up to the house. A man got out and opened the door for me.”

Brianna stopped for a minute, but not like before. This time, she appeared to be thinking, considering her next words. With more caution, she continued. “John was a simple man and . . .” She paused. “I don’t know much about cars, but I knew this one was expensive.”

And then, as if she was talking to herself, she quietly added, “Maybe if I’d . . .”

“No second guessing yourself,” I said. “Just tell me what happened next.”

She seemed a bit startled at my response to a comment she’d obviously not meant me to hear. But after a minute she continued her story. “He never spoke to me. Even after I asked him how much farther it was.”

“I didn’t start to get nervous, though, until I looked out the windows and realized we were heading back out of Minneapolis. When I tried the doors, they were locked. I . . . started to . . . panic, but I knew . . . I knew it wouldn’t do any good,” she said as the tears starting flowing fresh. “There was nothing in the car or my purse I could use to get out, even if I thought I could.”

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