Indulgence (377 page)

“Trying to make my hair look like something that didn’t roll
out of the forest.”

He sat beside me and, damn it all, he pulled off his shirt.

“How long have you been at it?”

“Uh—” I looked at the clock, “About forty minutes. You’re
late.”

“At least you kept yourself occupied.”

“My arms refuse to work much.”

“Turn around. I’ll help,” he said, snatching the comb from
my hand.

“You’ll help comb my hair?”

“Unless you want me to let you sit here and suffer while you
do it yourself.”

I turned my back toward him, and he adjusted so I could lean
against his leg while he worked.

I grimaced as soon as he grabbed a clump of hair, waiting
for the pull and the pain. I could barely sit still as a kid when my mom tried
to detangle my hair, and back then my scalp hadn’t been abused beforehand.

He tugged and gently pulled at each section, very few times
did it ever verge on pain.

“Are you actually doing anything, or just trying to appease
me?”

He kissed my shoulder. “It’s going to take a while, but yes,
I can manage to comb hair. I thought you’d like me to inflict as little pain as
possible.”

“Well then, you’re surprisingly good at this.”

“I had a little sister.”

Had. I wasn’t sure if he referred to her in the past tense
because she was gone, or because he was separating himself from his own life.
“I didn’t think that was a brother’s thing—brushing his sister’s hair.”

“She was sick a lot. Couldn’t always do it herself, and she
refused to let Mom cut it.”

“At least she had a good brother.” I wanted to know more,
but was afraid to pry. One more glimpse into who he really was. “Is
she—did—um….” I couldn’t think of a good way to phrase anything.

“She died when she was fourteen. She had cystic fibrosis,
and despite everything the doctors could do, she had trouble with lung
infections—for a while it seemed constant. My parents didn’t even know they
were carriers, and they took it pretty hard when she died.”

“I am sorry.” I wanted to say more, to somehow find a way to
ease the pain in his voice, but I didn’t have the slightest idea how. My side
spasmed, and I flinched, sending waves of pain through the rest of my body. “I
think I need the pain pill now.”

Barely moving me, Kirk reached around me to hand me the
water and the pill. “Hello oblivion,” I whispered as I popped it in my mouth
and swallowed.

As my eyelids grew heavy, my defenses fell again. “I had a
big fight with my sister, and we’ve barely talked since.”

“You’ll work it out,” he said, tugging at a difficult knot.

“Will we? It wasn’t even our first big fight. She got
everything she ever wanted and as soon as something didn’t go her way, she went
running to someone for a pity party—our parents, an ex… It became a
never-ending cycle. She moved in with me, and things got serious between her
and my best friend, Peter. That’s when everything started to go to hell.”

He smoothed out a section of hair and laid it over my
shoulder. “What happened?”

I shook my head, starting to feel too sleepy to hold myself
up. I wasn’t supposed to be talking about my family, about life before this.
“That’s not this life.”

“Come on, Sugar, you brought it up.” Kirk laid down the comb
and wrapped his arms around me.

I closed my eyes and drifted into his warmth. “I always had
a thing for Peter, but they were good together. I don’t know what happened, but
she started hanging out with an ex. She and Peter got into a fight then Chey
and her ex went out and blew half of her rent money on booze. We got into it
and she moved back with Mom and Dad. She wanted an apology. I wanted an
apology. We were at a standstill.”

“I imagine she’s at least half as stubborn as you.”

“She found out she was pregnant after our big fight…. I
didn’t handle that too well either.” The surge of guilt churned my stomach, and
I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to be thinking about things I
couldn’t fix—especially the ones I might not get the chance to fix. I moaned
and used the back of the couch to pull myself up. “Are you going to leave my
hair half done?”

I managed to stay conscious as Kirk spent the next half hour
working though all of the knots in my hair until it fell around my shoulders
again in smooth strait strands.

“You’re good,” I mumbled, curling up against his chest.

“Try to sleep.” He kissed the top of my head and tucked a
blanket around me.

“Keep the nightmares away.”

I woke up with my head in Kirk’s lap, staring up into his
sparkling blue eyes.

“What are you grinning about?” he asked.

“No dreams that time,” I lied.

The corner of his mouth lifted, and I suspected he saw right
through my lie. He saved me and he protected me. It wasn’t a stretch to say
that the more I learned about him, the more I adored him.

That also frightened me.

He said that letting me in would only make things harder in
the long run because for us, he never expected a long run. I’d be his until he
finished the job, and then I’d be on my own again. On my own to deal with the
memories and the nightmares.

“Come back to me,” Kirk said, brushing his thumb over my
lips.

“I’m here.”

“Your mind isn’t.”

I didn’t want it to be. He broke down my defenses too easily
now, but I pressed a smile to my sore face. “So, what’s next, boss?”

“You heal.”

“You’re not in trouble for—”

“I told you I wouldn’t be. The meeting was about the others.
We have to deal with everyone who can’t be trusted. Soon.” he breathed, “Milo
is coming in two weeks. Ross said he held it off so we could finish getting
everything cleaned up. I think he’s worried about keeping his job after all of
this.”

That was the most terrifying good news I’d ever heard. “That
means you’ll have your chance. We just have to play it off for a couple of
weeks.”

A couple weeks—more torment—and then I’d lose him.

I told myself to stop getting attached, to remember that
what we had wasn’t real. It was a product of the circumstances. There was no
evidence that the two of us would ever work outside of this environment. Hell,
there was no way we’d be together any other way. If the two of us had passed in
a bar a month ago, I wouldn’t have turned my head, and I doubted that he would
have either.

Whatever connection we had wasn’t real.

It wasn’t meant to last.

Initiation

After a peaceful week, I know it was wishful thinking that
we’d make it through the weekend without anyone bothering us, and the
early-evening knock on the door confirmed it. I pulled the blanket over myself
and flattened out on the couch where no one could see me. Covered in swollen
bruises, being violated by Gabe and his crew had made me even more anti-social
than normal.

Kirk understood, but I doubted anyone else would—especially
not Ross. He was the one person I couldn’t bear to see. Except a resurrected
Gabe, but he was a frequent visitor to my dreams.

I briefly heard muffled voices then the door closed.

“It’s for you,” Kirk said, holding out a box.

“Unless it’s chocolate, send it back.” I sat up just long
enough for Kirk to reclaim his seat at the end of the couch, and then I laid my
head on his lap.

“It’s from Ross,” he laid it on my stomach, but I drew my
hands away from it.

“Definitely send it back.” I was sure Ross didn’t like me
much and Kirk was now on his bad side, too. Probably more so than he was
willing to admit.

I wanted to know the details so I’d know what to expect, but
even more, I didn’t want to know anything anymore. I didn’t want to know who
Kirk really was, to wrestle with the things both of us had to do to survive.

It was bad enough when I was only concerned with myself.
Now, I was terrified of doing something that might give him away.

“Just open it, Silver. It really can’t be as bad as you’re
currently imagining.”

“How do you know?” I lifted the box and pressed it to his
chest. “You want to know, you open it.”

Shaking his head, he jerked the box away and popped off the
top. He laid the box on the arm of the couch and pulled out a snakeskin tube
dress with huge cut outs running down each side.

“Swanky,” I mused.

“There’s a matching thong.”

I stifled a laugh at his exaggerated enthusiasm and it hurt
like hell, but humor was more valuable than pain. “Lookie there, our
rat-skinned Master thinks of everything.”

Kirk chuckled, dropping the lingerie back into the box. It
was rare to see him with a genuine smile, the kind that tightened the skin
around his eyes and brought out his dimples. “Just wait.”

I heard something else move in the box and he pulled out a
pair of stiletto heels with silver snakes coiled around the spike.

“I’d kill myself,” I said, instantly losing the humor.
“That’s like a six inch heel.”

Kirk flicked his eyebrow up then ran his hand over his
mouth.

“There’s more?” I asked.

“You’re to wear them to the Outlook tonight.”

“Tonight?” I pulled myself up into a seated position. “I
have more dark spots than an over ripe banana.”

The corner of his mouth turned up as he dropped everything
into the box and tossed it under the coffee table.

The hardest part about knowing his secret and actually
understanding him, was that I cared about how he felt. Distant and brooding
meant he was going to have to do something he didn’t want to do.

I swung my leg over his lap, straddling him in an attempt to
distract him and at least avoid the brunt of his sullen side for a moment.

“Silver,” he breathed, putting his hands on my hips.
“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? We still have a whole hour before we have to
worry about anything that happens at the Outlook.”

“I need to go talk to Ross.” Kirk began to lift me up, but I
shifted my weight to delay him.

“Why? I mean, I get that you want to protect me from
whatever he has planned, but we should just do what he says.”

Kirk grimaced and leaned his head back. “Since when are you
gung-ho to do anything anyone says?”

“I don’t want to die here—”

“You won’t.”

“Not if we both keep playing our parts. You get too soft on
me. He already sees it, so just…,” I shook my head. I couldn’t believe the
words that were about to come out of my mouth. “Let him do what he wants to
do.”

*****

I didn’t think Ross had asked us to the Outlook out of
concern for my condition and recovery.
Initiation
. The word flooded my
mind. I knew it was coming. I hadn’t even healed from the last attack, part of
me hoped that meant he’d take it easy on me, but I doubted it. As we entered
the giant twelfth-story club, I wanted to press myself against Kirk, a single
whiff of him, the touch of his skin, anything to calm the growing panic inside
of me.

One thing I had on my side while I was injured was the pain
meds, even though Kirk had taken me down to half a pill at a time. They didn’t
make walking in stilettos easy, however.

Kirk took a seat at the table, and I knelt next to him,
holding back my grunt of pain as my stiff body settled into the uncomfortable
position.

“She really is a tough girl,” Ross mused.

“She is,” Kirk cupped my cheek. “And she’s still healing. I
guess we all underestimated Gabe’s vindictive streak.”

Ross scoffed. I glanced around, usually he had at least one
slave at his feet, but today there were no other slaves around. Three other men
entered the room, but I didn’t recognize any of them.

“Ross….” Kirk growled.

My stomach flipped and churned, the sound of his voice
validated my fears.

I struggled to catch my breath.

Miles paused at the doorway and scanned the room. So far, he
was the only one to enter with a slave.

Looking under the table, I managed to catch a peek at
Alley’s face as she sat down, but she bit her lip and kept her eyes down.

My heart pounded, and my body started to shake.

Please
, I begged an invisible power, biting into my
lip.

“She’s hurt; she’s not ready for this.”

“She’s out of time,” Ross hissed. “One chance to prove
herself before Milo gets here.”

Six men and two slaves. That was eerily close to the odds
I’d faced when I woke up in the basement.
Keep it together, Silver
.
Only
a little longer
.

I could hear their voices over me, but not a single syllable
registered as having any meaning. The tendons of Kirk’s hand pulsed as he
fisted it against his leg. I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep up the
show.

Ross stood, looking down on me, and I heard my name, just
before his hand clamped down on my collar and pulled me to my feet. My feet
slid out of the shoes as I stumbled toward him.

I was actually quite thankful to be rid of the shoes. At
least I wouldn’t be ending the night with a broken ankle—I hoped.

As we passed, Kirk took a deep breath but didn’t otherwise
move.

I followed Ross—although it wasn’t as if I had a choice
since he was dragging me by the metal ring around my neck. He placed me in
front of a small table. It was as tall as his waist and just big enough for a
person to lay on.

He lifted me on to it and pushed me back. My muscles were
tense, but I tried not to resist as he positioned me so that my head rested
against what looked like a movable portion.

“I hear you’re good with your mouth,” Ross said, pressing
two fingers to my lips. I opened my mouth and he shoved them inside, straight
to the back of my throat. I gagged, pulling in a breath of air through my nose
and trying not to clamp down on the invading fingers.