Five Stars (Desire Island 5)

“That’s a great story,” Adam said, delighted. “So, you really are a noble princess, Princess,” he added with a grin. “A warrior who found a way out of a bad situation.”

“Yeah,” Shani said, the smile falling away from her face. “I still can’t believe I put up with it as long as I did. How could I have been so fucking stupid to let it happen?”

“Don’t beat yourself up over that,” Adam said emphatically. “Abusive situations often happen like this. It starts slowly and you get sucked into a pattern of behavior it’s hard to break free of. Especially when you’re financially and emotionally dependent on someone. But what’s most important is that you did get away, Shani. Tell me how you did that. How you got yourself free.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding with determination. “That last morning, he’d tied me by the hair to a hook in his study ceiling. He did that sometimes, so he could reach over and fondle me while he was working at his desk. Like with everything, it was sexy at first—very Story of O-like.”

Color rose up her cheeks and she ran a hand over her face, clearly mortified by her confession. But then, through what was obviously a sheer act of will, she forced herself to continue. “That day, he had some errands to run. He had a bunch of boxes of stuff he was returning to the post office. I begged him to let me down before he left, but he said that, no, he liked the idea of thinking of me there waiting for him like that, and that I’d be just fine. He left my hands free and told me I could masturbate if I wanted to, to pass the time. Then, he left, leaving me alone in the house.

“That’s when I noticed the pair of scissors he’d left on his desk, along with the packing tape. After a lot of awkward maneuvering, I managed to get the scissors to the edge of the desk with my foot. Then I was able to reach them with my hand, though it felt like I was tugging my hair out of my scalp.

“Once I had the scissors, I tried to cut the rope that was wound in my hair, but it was too thick and I couldn’t get a good angle. Time was passing and I was sweating bullets, afraid he’d return at any moment and catch me in the act.

“Finally, desperate, I just started cutting my hair, shearing it any which way in an effort to get free. And I did it! I managed to get myself loose, leaving my hair hanging in the rope in a tangled mess. Panicked and thrilled, I raced up the stairs and grabbed some clothes from the bureau in the guest bedroom where I’d initially put my things. My purse was tucked into a bottom drawer, and I grabbed that too.

“I flew down the stairs and through the back hall to the garage, where my old VW Bug was parked next to Brandon’s second car. I pushed the garage door opener and rushed to my car. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely get the key into the ignition. Thank god the old clunker started. I was terrified he’d come home before I could get away.

“But all remained clear as I backed out and down the driveway. My sister, Malia, the one I’m closest to in both age and friendship, lives in Portland too, though on the other side of town. I’m so glad I never told him where she lived. Thank god she was home that morning. She’s a nurse like my mom and she sometimes works the night shift. Anyway, she took one look at me with my hair hacked off and my face streaked with tears, and pulled me in the house, just holding me while I sobbed.”

“Thank goodness you had someone to turn to,” Adam said. “Did you call the police? Have this guy arrested?” Even as he asked the question, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“No,” she admitted, confirming his conjecture. “I was ashamed. I’d entered willingly into the Master/slave relationship. I didn’t want to put my family through me having to testify against this guy. Portland may be a big city in some ways, but when it comes to things like the BDSM community, the population remains painfully provincial and uninformed. I could just imagine the nasty snickering that would go on at the police station once I’d filed my report, not to mention on the reservation. My mom would be humiliated.

“Malia wanted me to get some guys together from the tribe to go beat him up. But I didn’t want any of that. Violence begets violence, and I was done with it all. I just wanted to put it behind me, and when she understood that, she let it go.