Plaything: Volume One (3 page)

Amy

I flailed like a fish on a line, digging my heels into the carpet and lashing out at the stupid old brute at the end of the chain. The bastard was stronger than he looked, but I already knew that. Years of practice, I assumed. I wondered how many other women he’d dragged along this very corridor. His stoic dedication to the task at hand didn’t bode well for my predicament, but I put up a good fight regardless; same as every other day this week, and every day the week before it. I was tiring him, but not enough, losing ground with every groan of his exertion. The library doors up ahead were closed, but I already knew what lay beyond.

The man they called Albert gave me one tremendous yank as he kicked the double doors open, propelling me over the threshold and straight into the gaze of my tormentors. Today I made no effort to hide my modesty, no effort whatsoever to scrape back the dignity they’d torn from me. The old man was in his usual position, puffing on those ghastly cigars like a cartoon villain. Only he wasn’t a cartoon. He was all too fucking real.

My eyes narrowed to slits at the sight of the monster son, muscles tense and ready to fly, but he didn’t make a move towards me. He was wearing his trademark smug smile, reveling in his sadism. Disgusting prick.

“Good luck with this one,
brother
,” he spat.

I followed his eyes, flinching at the sight of the additional man in the room. The family resemblance was plain as day, only this man was taller, fitter, and thoroughly fucking mortified. His jaw was gritted in malicious intent, but for once it wasn’t directed at me. So
this
was the elusive son, Robert. It had to be. In just the few sorry weeks I’d been here I’d heard enough to know he’d left a sour legacy. If a family reunion was on the cards, he didn’t look pleased about it. From the hate in his eyes I’d say he wanted the old man dead nearly as much as I did.
Nearly.
As he took a step towards the desk I realised I’d made a misjudgement. He wanted him dead
more
than I did, if that was even possible.

“This is bullshit,” he snapped. “No fucking deal.”

“Don’t be a fool,” the old man laughed. “I’ve got your balls on the chopping board, you know it as well as I do.”

A flash of my old humanity fizzed up my spine, and I folded my arms across my breasts. I needn’t have worried, when the stranger’s eyes landed in my direction they locked firmly on mine. We shared a long moment, and in that heartbeat I dared to hope.
Get me out of here. Please, do something.

It was crushed in a flash.

“I need some time alone with her, before I agree to this.”

The old man smiled, gestured to the door beside the fireplace. “Be my guest.”

I backed away as the stranger made his way towards me, scrabbling at the collar on my neck as I reached the end of the chain. He took the end from Albert, but he didn’t pull. Instead he stood still, expression unreadable until I abandoned my efforts.

“Please,” he said, simply. His tone was low and steady, an accent I couldn’t place. He let the chain fall limp between us, stepping to my side and placing a solid hand between my shoulder blades. Then he waited.

My gaze veered between the old man and the asshole Alistair, before coming to rest on the blonde girl at his side. My heart lurched at the dullness in her eyes, the forced meekness of her posture. Anywhere would be better than here. I took a step forward, and the stranger moved with me, keeping his hand on my back with steady pressure until we reached the doorway. He opened it into the darkness beyond, hunting for the light switch before inviting me inside. I eyeballed him suspiciously, but stepped on through. He closed the door on the laughter from the bastards in the library, and then he unfastened the chain from my collar. Clearly he knew the secret, as I’d struggled to wrench myself free from the thing more times than I cared to remember.

I shot away from him on reflex, backing up against the wall on the far side of the room as I weighed up my surroundings. We were in an extension of the library, the same high ceilings and wood paneling. There were no books in this room, merely a few items of furniture. A deep red chesterfield sofa, and matching armchair, one of those antique globes that holds spirit bottles, and a low coffee table. This was a lot more pleasant than the cell I’d been summoned from.

“I’m Robert,” the stranger said. “Please sit.”

I opted for the armchair, pulling my knees high to my chest as he took a seat on the sofa opposite. He shrugged off his jacket, offering it across the table. I mumbled thanks and dressed myself gratefully. It was long enough to hide everything it needed to. I breathed slightly more easily, soaking in the appearance of the long-lost son.

Robert was an attractive man; the kind of man I’d have noticed on the street. He was chiseled and groomed, with serious eyes and a ghost of stubble across a sculpted jaw. His brows were heavy and dark, his hair slightly tousled as though he was travel weary. I guessed he was. There was the faintest peppering of gray at his temples, placing him older than his asshole brother, but none the worse for it. His jacket smelled of musk, a fine rich scent without being overbearing.

I leaned forward in my seat. “You have to get me out of here. There will be people looking for me, family. They’ll have called the police already, you’ll all be arrested, all of you!”

His low laugh took me aback. “You wouldn’t be here if that were true.”

“Friends, then,” I persisted. “I’ll be missed.”

“Whereabouts in England are you from?”

His question took me by surprise; enough to answer without thought. “Worcester, you won’t know it.”

“By Birmingham, I do know it. I should have guessed from the accent. I’ve spent a lot of time in England.”

I couldn’t contain the sarcasm. “Good for you.”

“There is nobody coming after you, is there? Be honest. I’m not one of
them
.”

I wrapped his jacket around me a little tighter, and shook my head. “No.”

“How did you stumble upon the misfortune of meeting my brother?”

His eyes were so calm, the darkest green, like bay leaves. “A club in Vegas. I’d just split from an asshole boyfriend. Alistair seemed
nice
.”

“Nice and loaded.”

“I’m not a gold digger. He told me he loved my singing, said he knew people who knew people, you know how it goes.”

He smiled gently. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“Next thing I know I’m drinking vodka from the bottle in his Ferrari, speeding through mountains to wind up in this Godforsaken hell hole. I thought my luck was in.” I blinked back the tears, shoving the pain back down behind the mask. There was no way I was breaking for any of them. No fucking way.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and I believed him.

“They tried to sell me, didn’t they? To that Arab?”

“They did sell you.”

I put my hands to my temples, reeling. “Shit, this can’t be happening. Why am I here? Why is this happening to me?”

I wasn’t expecting an answer, but when one came Robert didn’t pull any punches. “Because you’re attractive... young... vulnerable. Because you have spirit enough to sell. Because there will be nobody coming after you. You told him you liked it rough, didn’t you?”

I felt the bloom of embarrassment across my cheeks. “Sorry?”

“Alistair picks the easiest targets. The easiest targets are the ones who admit to having submissive tendencies. They take to the lifestyle a lot more easily. Sometimes he even manages to convince them it’s what they want. Sometimes, rarely, it
is
what they want.”

I shuddered at the thought. “I don’t want that! I’m not even a submissive! Not really! I told him I like pain, I never once mentioned being a submissive. I’m not. I like everything on my own terms, my own way. It’s bedroom only.” I stared past him, into nothing. “This is insane. This whole thing is insane.”

“Yes, it is.”

“What are you going to do to me? Are they giving me to you now instead or something?” I closed my eyes, willing the whole crazy scenario away.

I heard him sigh. “You’re to be retrained, given back to your
owner
when you have become more compliant. They want
me
to train you.”

My eyes flew wide. “
Train
me?! What does that even mean? If you think you’re going to force yourself on me I won’t go down easy.” My mind whirred, grabbing hold of anything. “And I’m diseased! You’ll catch it!”

Another laugh from him, but there was no malice in it. “Please don’t lie. They’ll have done your bloods. You spent the night with Alistair, I imagine. And then what? The next day? The next night? The one after? And then I imagine you had questions, wanted to leave. They’ll have drugged you, taken a blood sample and put you in a cell to recover. Am I right?”

The shakes started, fear creeping back in. “I didn’t know about the blood.”

He rubbed his temples. “And in answer to your question, no. I’m not going to force myself on you.”

I let out a breath of relief. “Please, Robert, please get me out of here.”

He leaned back in his seat, and I realised how tired he looked. He looked ashen, exhausted. Exhausted by all this, no doubt. “They’d never let me out with you, and even if I managed it, they’d find us before you reached the airport.”

“I don’t need to reach the airport!” I hissed. “I can hide! Anywhere! Just get me out of this house!”

“They’ll find you,” he insisted. “Believe me, I know. There’s no escape, not really. The best you can hope for is a pleasant life. Most of the girls are well taken care of, my family’s clients are rich, powerful men who invest a lot in their
companions
. They may like things a little rough, but they won’t want to damage their investment. In time you may even come to enjoy it.” He stared me straight in the eye. “You must enjoy sex, Amy, or you wouldn’t be here. Frigid, inexperienced girls are a completely different market. You’re here because Alistair knew you’d make some rich dom a very good purchase, even if there are some teething problems.”

I couldn’t repress the heartache this time. My eyes filled without restraint, tears spilling faster than I could swat them away. For the first time in the weeks I’d been here I felt hopeless. Truly, utterly hopeless. Nobody would be coming for a girl like me. Nobody. The friends I did have would assume I’d skipped off with some guy or another, chasing some crazy dream. I was all alone.

Robert didn’t try and comfort me, and I was grateful. Instead he shifted forward in his seat and kept his eyes on mine. His expression was so sad. Sad but calm. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll turn down their request, they can go to hell.”

My words were choked when they came out. “What happens then?”

“I’ll leave, be damned with the consequences. I can only imagine Alistair will have another shot at
taming
you for your purchaser. Stay strong as long as you can, he doesn’t quit easily.”

I could hardly control my breathing. “And that’s it?! It’s all over for me? I’ll be given back to that horrible Arab guy, whether I like it or not?”

“I’m truly sorry.” He stood to leave. “Keep the jacket, I’m sure they will take it from you, but it’s the least I can do under the circumstances. I’ll try alerting the authorities to your plight, but I wouldn’t hold out too much hope. My family’s connections reach far and wide.”

I watched him pace to the door, ready to leave. Leave me. Leave this shitty fucking country, most likely. The only semi-reasonable human being I’d spoken to in weeks, and he was leaving. “Wait!” I cried. “Just a minute.”

He paused with his hand on the doorhandle, turning back to face me. “Yes?”

I could hardly speak through the tears. “I’m really being sold, aren’t I? Whether I like it or not?”

“I’m afraid so.”

My stomach lurched, churning in defeat. “Why do they want you to train me? Have you done it before?”

“Not for a long while.”

My eyes crashed into his. “But you
did
? You
did
train girls? Girls like me? You trained them to submit?”

“Yes.”

“And they enjoyed it? They wanted it?”

A faint smile crept across his lips. “Almost always, yes. Submission is more than a game, it’s a mind-set, an entire way of life. If a woman is so inclined, and has the guidance of a man who truly knows how to awaken that part of her, it can become all-encompassing. She can find fulfilment through submission, genuinely. I’ve never been like Alistair or my father, I’ve never broken a woman to submission that I didn’t believe suited the lifestyle.”

“I don’t think that’s me!” I wailed. “I don’t want to be some vile man’s plaything!”

He retreated his steps enough to crouch at my side and place a warm hand on my wrist. The contact burned, shot through my arm like a charge, but I didn’t pull away. “You said your
games
were always on your terms, bedroom only. Did you enjoy BDSM, Amy?”

Tears kept on falling. “Yes. That doesn’t mean I wanted to end up here, though.”