Buttons and Shame (Buttons 4)

We took our seats and were in the air within minutes. She sat absolutely still and stared at the seat in front of her. A Disney movie was playing, and she watched it without the sound on.

Since I was always paranoid about the unexpected, I kept my eyes peeled and my ears open. This woman seemed harmless, but when it came to someone’s need to survive, there was no such thing as harmless. When I met Pearl, she stabbed me without thinking twice about it.

The thought of my sister-in-law brought on the guilt for what I was doing. I loved Pearl and hated everything she’d endured. What I did was unforgivable, but she forgave me because she loved my brother so much. That was the first time I’d ever seen a true instance of love. It made me wonder if there was hope for all of us out there.

But now I had my own slave, an innocent woman who’d been taken from her former life. Stripped of all her rights, she was treated no better than livestock. She was starved and beaten, stomped on like dirt.

And now I was her captor.

I knew what I was doing was wrong, but that didn’t stop me from doing it. My need to have her outweighed my good conscience. My only justification was the fact that I wasn’t evil like Tristan and the rest of his men. I wouldn’t starve her or make her bleed just for the hell of it.

Not my style.

We arrived in Florence a few hours later. I had my car delivered to the parking lot, and after we got inside, we returned to my apartment at the corner of the city. The sun had disappeared, so now the city was dark. Only the lights from windows and sparse streetlights lit the way. My apartment was on the top floor of an old building. Until my new place was ready, it would have to do.

The second we arrived in Florence, her eyes soaked everything in. Her face was pressed against the car window as she watched the buildings pass. She’d probably never been to Italy, judging by her reaction.

We entered the gate and walked up to the third story. Fog had settled into the city, so the green hillsides in the distance were nonexistent. I got the key in the lock, and we stepped into my personal space, the place I called home.

She entered the living room and stood absolutely still, as if she was waiting for permission to touch anything.

When Pearl first became Crow’s slave, she was adamant about escaping. She fought him tooth and nail, as well as with that fiery attitude. But I didn’t seem to have to worry about this girl. She wasn’t looking for the exits or the knife drawer.

Annoying.

“This is my place until the house is ready.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking cold in her t-shirt and jeans. “You have another place?”

“Just bought it. The place is almost furnished.” Seeing my brother live in peace away from the city made me crave the same privacy. I didn’t need a vineyard and olive trees. But I wanted to look out my window and not see a soul for miles.

I wanted to be alone.

“Then where will I be staying?”

“The house.” Maybe she was docile now, but she could change her tune once she was comfortable. Being so close to other neighbors, including the police station just miles away, made her captivity precarious.

I walked down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. It had a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a large window that had a great view of the cathedral across the street. “This is where you’ll be sleeping.”

With her arms still over her chest, she walked inside and inspected it. She didn’t give any noticeable reaction to the accommodations. She lowered herself to the edge of the bed and sat down, testing the firmness.

Anytime I saw her near a bed, there was only one thing on my mind. “The doctor will be here in a second, so don’t get comfortable.”

“The doctor?” she blurted, her head cocked to the side. She ran her hands up and down her arms. “The bruises will go away on their own. No need to worry about them.”

“I never said I was.” I shut the door and walked back to the entryway. My phone rang in my pocket, so I fished it out. When I saw Crow’s name on the screen, I knew exactly why he was calling. He knew the deal had been made, but there were millions of dollars missing from the account.

How would I explain that?

“Hey, I just got back into town. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“You’re back?” my brother asked in surprise. “Why are you back but our bank account is empty?”