Atonement (Master's Protege 2)

“My bad, then.”

She drags her knees to her chest and buries her head on them. “I remind you why I’m here, and all you’ve got is ‘my bad?’ No apology?”

“I don’t owe you an apology.”

She leaps to her feet, and I half expect her to smack me upside the head with the cudgel, but I’m quicker than she is. In one quick movement, I’ve swept her off her feet and I’m carrying her back up to the house.

“Put me down! Put me fucking down!”

“No. I have to show you something.”

“You can’t show me while I’m on my own two damn feet?”

I don’t say anything for long minutes while I carry her back to the house.

“Violet.”

Sometimes the sound of my voice when I call her name is enough for her to settle down. She sighs, a little of the fight draining out of her. “What?”

“I asked you if you trusted me.”

She nods, again trying to look away. Her face turns away from mine. “Yes.”

“And do you remember what you said to me?”

We’d sat in bed, her curled up on my lap after target practice, a week after we found Skylar. “Do you trust me?” I’d asked her.

She blows out a breath. “I said there’s no one in the world I trust more. But that was before.”

“Before what?” We’ve almost reached the top of the hill. The bright beam of yellow light from the kitchen casts a welcoming glow on the path before me.

“Before I… knew you would take so long.”

I almost laugh at that. I would, if she wasn’t so damn serious.

“Do you trust me now?”

She thinks before she speaks, but it doesn’t disappoint me. I like that she only speaks the truth. It gives strength and merit to her words.

“I do.”

I wasn’t ready to show her anything. I wanted more information before I let her in, because I don’t want to give her false hope. But it’s time.

We reach the back door. I settle her to the ground and take her by the hand.

“Then follow me.”

Chapter Five

Violet

Damn right he should’ve talked to me.

He’s got to go and play the damn trust card on me.

No fair.

Of course I trust him. There’s no one in the world I trust more than him, but I’m not a patient girl. I’ve never even pretended to be any different than I am.

I don’t trust people easily, but when you’ve been through what Cain and I have together… things are different.

I knew it the first time I looked into his eyes after he’d killed a man. There was a stark honesty and fearlessness I’d never seen in another human.

Ever.

And yes… I trust him.

But down in the living room, with the cinnamon-scented pinecones decorating the mantle, and pumpkin spice everything being cooked up in the kitchen… it reminds me that Christmas is coming.

My parents were killed at Christmas.

I feel as if the days are passing like sand through an hourglass, and I’m not sure where we’ll be when the last grain of sand falls.

After we secured Skylar, I made a promise to Cain, and I always keep my promises.

I remember the conversation well. He was sitting in his office when he beckoned to me. He explained how he would help me find my parents and what he’d ask from me in return.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you.”

“Me?”

“You. All of you. Carte blanche to do whatever I want to you, whenever I want to. Anytime, anywhere.”

“I have the distinct feeling I’d… both hate and love every minute of what you’d do to me… yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Cain. I accept your terms. I’m yours.”

And I’ve given him… me. All of me. Over, and over, and over again, and no, it hasn’t been painful. Ours is a unique relationship, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and it honestly goes far beyond mere sex.

There’s an intensity to Cain I crave. A fearlessness. One might label him an “alpha male,” but that only scrapes the very surface of who he really is.

What he really does.

Cain Master is a man in a camp of his own.

And I prided myself on understanding that. On understanding him.

At what cost?

Has he used me? Has he kept me here with him for companionship, never fully intending on helping me find my parents’ killer?

Or… has he found that there’s nothing but dead ends?

I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what to hope for.

I don’t even know if I’m ready to face my parents’ murderer, but I know it was what brought me here, right to his doorstep, ready to barter.

I didn’t have the money he charged for a job like this. All I had to offer him was me.

My skills. My talents.

My body.

I never planned on whoring myself out, but now that I’m here…

No. No, I won’t let my mind go there.

Cain’s huge, rambling mansion of a house overlooks the Salem waterfront north of Boston. This time of year, the leaves have mostly fallen, leaving stark branches that warn of cold winter days and impending snow and ice, but a few brilliant orange maple leaves still cling with tenacity to low-hanging limbs. Cain brushes past them, and a few more flutter to the ground.