Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

“Have you had a slave before?”

“Me?” he asked.

“Was my question not clear?”

A soft smile formed on his lips, like he was amused with my anger rather than threatened by it. “No. I’ve never had a slave before.”

“Then why do you want me?”

“You know what they say.” He rested his arms on his knees and returned his gaze to mine. “Always go for the new experience.”

I hated his vague responses. It was worse than no response. “Why did you capture me to hurt and kill me? How does that affect Bones?”

“It’ll piss him off—to say the least.”

“You overestimate his fondness for me. I can assure you he’s already replaced me with some other poor girl. Hurting me won’t hurt him. I can promise you that.”

He stared at me with erected walls, absorbing my reaction but not giving one of his own. “Three million dollars.”

My pulse weakened.

“Three million dollar is a big investment—even by his standards.”

“He was drunk when he bought me.”

He chuckled. “Nice try. We both know he wasn’t. The most he’s ever paid for a slave was a million. That’s three times the amount.”

“Maybe he got a raise.”

He ran his long fingers along his jaw, feeling his five o’clock shadow coming in. “He showed you what he does for a living. You only do that with an equal, not a slave. And he took you to the opera, knowing people who recognized him would see the two of you together. You meant a lot to him—a great deal.”

He had a funny way of showing it.

“And you know what I think?”

Now I looked away, annoyed with his arrogance.

“I think you made that happen.” His words hit my ears like a pin drop in a silent room. It amplified in my head simply because it was true. “I think you manipulated him like a mastermind to improve your situation. And to find an opportunity to escape.”

I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right. I’d take that truth to the grave.

“And that is immensely impressive.”

I didn’t react to the compliment. My eyes naturally wanted to look into his, but I stopped that from happening.

“You’re a fighter. You don’t stop until you get what you want. That was why I spared you from my men. Deep down inside, somewhere that I can’t really understand, was respect. I respected you. Still do.”

He hadn’t hurt me—not once. He made promises to hurt me, but they were just threats to keep me in line. I believed this man wasn’t as cruel as he claimed. I believed there was a chance he would let me go—if I played my cards right. “If that’s how you feel, why won’t you release me?” I turned back to him, stopping the plea from entering my eyes. No matter how beautiful this place was, I wanted to go home.

“My need for revenge is stronger.”

“Stronger than letting an innocent woman go home?” I asked incredulously. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? As a man, you’ll never understand what it’s like to be held down while you’re violated like an object. You’ll never understand what it’s like to belong to someone else. You don’t get it, and you never will.”

“I do get it.”

I searched his eyes and waited for something redeeming, something pure.

The look in his eyes hadn’t changed once during our conversation. His eyes were soft like satin sheets, but his jaw was hard with cruelty. “I just don’t care.”

***

I didn’t join my captor for dinner, because I didn’t want to look at him right now. The last thing he said to me sent me to another place with rage. Once upon a time, I thought the world was a beautiful place. There were bad people in it, but there were also a lot of good people.

But I realized I was dead wrong.

Every person served their own interests. Every person was selfish. Every person didn’t care whom they hurt on their path to get what they wanted.

It was despicable.

I hardly touched my dinner despite how delicious it was, and I left the half-eaten tray outside for Lars to pick up. At least my room was a safe haven. No one bothered me in there. It was beautifully decorated, and it had something that meant the world to me.

A window.

Sometimes, I could pretend I was free. I shouldn’t feel gratitude toward Crow for treating me better than Bones, but I did.

Even though I shouldn’t.

I got ready for bed and placed my book on the nightstand. The bed was comfortable, the best I’d ever slept on. The sheets were made of Italian finery, and the comforter kept me warm and cool at the same time. It healed my aching back and sore limbs. Being away from Bones for so long gave my body time to heal from the things it endured. But I wondered if there would ever be enough time to heal everywhere.