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  I dropped my hand, glowering. “Don’t I have that power? After all, I invited you onto my yacht. I showed you things I haven’t shown anyone. I kept you safe.” Smugness helped smother my vulnerability with cocky half-truths. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be talking. If it wasn’t for me, you’d probably have thrown yourself into the sea by now.”

  She froze, rage painting her features.

  The staff returned, sweeping up the half-touched platter and replacing it with mains of herb-stuffed sword-fish with gnocchi and garlic butter. It smelled divine, but nothing could tear my attention from Pimlico or hers from me.

  We locked in an eye-war, wondering who would break first.

  Picking up her fork, Pim tore her gaze away. The fact that she’d broken the spell didn’t mean she’d lost. She’d managed to scoop out my insides and leave me hollow. Her lips parted as she stroked the fork as if it was a wand and could grant her magic.

  Slowly, she smiled. “I had every intention of arguing with you—to try to discuss what happened like adults. But I don’t need to.” She held up the fork. “This is all the proof I need.”

  My forehead bunched. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re right, Elder. Without you, everything would still terrify me—including every man I came across. Without you, I would probably be dead by my hand or my old master’s, and I would’ve gladly entered a coffin to be free.” She stroked the sharp silver prongs. “You want to free me now when I’m finding freedom in your captivity? Well, that’s your decision, and nothing I say will change that. But you should know…if you send me away to return to a time warp where I no longer belong, return me to people who don’t know what I’ve been through, if I have relapses or nightmares, or have to relearn to survive all over again…then fine.” Her eyes glowed. “I can do that. I will do that. And I’ll do it because of you. Because of you, I’m strong enough to endure whatever comes next.”

  She upended the fork and dug it into the wooden table. “But you should also know that because of you, I can hold this fork without fear of being beaten. I can sit at this table without cowering for a kick. Because of you, I can be human and not a pet because you showed me I’m valuable.”

  Taking another sip of water to ease her unused throat, she smiled. “So thank you, Elder. Thank you for waking me up and smashing me open. Because by doing so, you broke every piece I had left and revealed something so much stronger within. The girl I was. The girl I thought was dead. The girl who will eventually take her life back and won’t need you or anyone to be happy.”

  I sucked in a gasp. Everything about this recovering slave sucker-punched me in the goddamn gut. I’d never seen her look so elegantly refined but with a lethal dazzling edge. Her smile was sharp. Her shoulders straight. And the glitter in her gaze made me want to attack her from across the table, shove the food away, and have her as my main course.

  I didn’t move, doing my best to control myself.

  Don’t do it.

  Don’t do it.

  Don’t do it.

  The law of threes.

  I thought in threes. I operated in threes.

  However, the mantra didn’t help. My desire only grew worse. I shifted in my chair. Her eyes flashed to mine while she licked her lips free of butter.

  Fuck it.

  I couldn’t do this anymore.

  I couldn’t lie to myself or her.

  Launching upright, I grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. She gasped as I shoved aside her plate and fisted her hips. With a quick yank, I placed her on the table. The side of her black dress soaked into the gnocchi sauce, but I didn’t give a damn.

  Her hand came up still holding her fork, but I brushed her arm away with a sharp elbow then captured her chin. “You want to stay? Fine, but I’ve run out of patience to treat you kindly. If you stay, you accept that.”

  Her skin whitened, but she tilted her head regally in my hands. “I won’t let you hurt me. I won’t let anyone hurt me ever again.”

  Fuck, the courage in her. It radiated off her like heat waves over the tide. She was luminous.

  “I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”

  She locked eyes with me, distracting me as she wedged the fork against my jugular. The sharp tines dug into my skin. “What’s your word worth?”

  I narrowed my gaze. “My word is worth a fuck load more than anyone else’s. If I say I won’t hurt you, I won’t.” I licked my lips, pressing my neck into the deadly prongs. “Under one condition.”

  The fork at my throat fumbled. “What condition?”

  “You just admitted you are sick of being Pimlico. You want to be who you were.” I wrapped my hand in her hair and tugged to arch her neck. “Who is that?” I bit her collarbone, switching teeth for tongue the moment she stiffened. “What is her name?”

  She squirmed as I opened her legs, settling between them. The table wasn’t high, so I had to duck to kiss her neck, but the sensation of being between her legs unravelled me.

  My hand came up against my control. Landing on her knee, I slid up her thigh to the one place I wanted more than anything.

  The pressure in my jeans was excruciating.

  Instead of pushing me away, the fork lowered, and she bowed in my arms. Her breathing wasn’t steady, and I didn’t know if it was from the fear or arousal that always seemed to hum between us.

  “What’s your name?” I murmured into her skin, nipping her chin, wanting so much to kiss her but knowing if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “Pim…tell me.” I sucked her flesh, tasting her.

  “It’s Pim…for now.” Pushing me away, she sucked in a breath. “Keep me. Teach me. Make me strong enough to stay in the light without going blind or burning—eradicate the darkness inside me, and I’ll tell you.”

  The bargain wasn’t fair.

  Not only did I have to keep myself on a leash, continue helping her, try not to touch her, and do my utmost not to hurt her—all just to earn her true name and secrets—but I also had to protect her from myself, those who hunted me, and her awful past.

  It wasn’t a deal I should strike.

  I should throw her overboard because she’d be safer in the depths than with me.

  But I’d never been good at running from challenges.

  I wanted her. Any fucking way I could have her.

  I just had to hope I didn’t break.

  Grabbing her hand, I ripped the fork from it and looped my fingers with hers. Shaking in agreement, I said, “I’ll let you stay…for now. But I don’t just expect your name, silent mouse. I expect everything from you. Every history and memory. Every pastime and secret. Every damn thought and experience. Promise me that, and we have a deal.”

  She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and dressed in courage until she shimmered with resolution.

  She nodded. “Deal.”

  Chapter Six

  ______________________________

  Pimlico

  THE SEXUAL TENSION didn’t vanish.

  Even when Elder returned to his seat and we resumed eating. The damp spot on my dress from the butter sauce didn’t bother me in the warm dining room, and each time I brought a piece of fish to my mouth, I relished in how much I’d changed already. How using utensils no longer terrified me. How raising my voice wasn’t a suicide mission but a way to set ground rules and boundaries with the man I found intoxicatingly dangerous.

  We didn’t speak while we finished the main course and settled back to a simple dessert of strawberries and vanilla cream.

  Elder didn’t have a sweet tooth, and after a second cream-covered berry, he pushed the dish away and reached into his pocket. Giving me a look that dared me to say anything, he pulled out a joint and a lighter then lit it without apology.

  My mouth went dry as he inhaled deep, his head tipping to the ceiling as the end of the joint glowed red. He held his breath for a long second then exhaled a lungful of grey smoke, twirling and twining between his lips.


  I knew I shouldn’t like him smoking. That smoking was terrible, and drugs were wrong. But my God, it made my heart hammer with interest. Why did he use? Was he in pain and it was medicinal? Was he a dealer and that was where his money came from? He wanted to know who I was, but in return, I wanted to know him.

  I shifted in my chair as he inhaled again, his fingers slim and strong on either side of the weed cigarette.

  After a few tokes, he glanced at me. Outwardly, he didn’t look any different. His eyes were still calculating and shrewd. His body still tense and ready to fight. But there was something less edgy about him—his mind perhaps? Something I couldn’t see, but I could feel. It had calmed down, muted the fizzing awareness between us, taming the drives that rode him.

  I chewed my question before murmuring, “Why do you smoke?”

  He smirked, holding the joint away from his mouth. “Ah, you’re too late for that question, Pim.”

  I scowled. I knew what he meant. That night at the very beginning of whatever dance we rehearsed. He’d promised all his secrets if I just asked him that one question. At the time, I wasn’t ready mentally, physically, or in any way, but now, I wished I could go back and surprise him by opening my mouth to ask.

  I dipped another strawberry into the vanilla cream. Even though he hadn’t answered me, I gave up a piece of myself in hopes he’d do the same. “A few years before I was taken, I tried it once. I didn’t like it. Made me paranoid.”

  He inhaled deeply, holding his breath again until smoke curled from his nose, slowly siphoning like silver threads to form a halo around his head. “I’ve heard it can do that.”

  “It doesn’t do that to you?”

  “Never. If anything, it’s the opposite.”

  “The opposite?”

  He cocked his head, deliberating. “I’ll answer that question because one of us has to show some element of trust.” He took another drag then leaned forward and stubbed it out on a crystal ashtray in the middle of the table. “It allows me to relax—just like it does for a lot of people. But it plays multiple roles in my life.”

  I kept my lips glued together so as not to ask. My curiosity nibbled at me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  He chuckled quietly, seeing my internal battle. Standing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Marijuana doesn’t make me paranoid, Pim. It makes me open. The suspicion and doubt I have toward others when I’m sober are muted while I’m under the influence. It makes me a nicer person. It keeps other issues at bay. I can…relax.”

  Before I could test out his theory—to see if he truly was softer and kinder and easier to talk to…he gave me a smile and left.

  * * * * *

  The next day, the sun hid its golden warmth behind wispy clouds, occasionally peeking out but most of the time sulking behind grey mist. The ocean was sullen and uninviting, making the Phantom seem like a comforting warm cocoon in the midst of hostile water.

  I didn’t see Elder and settled for relaxing in my room, trying to recreate the origami rose he’d given me. Tearing a piece of paper from my genie notebook, I concentrated on folding creases and doing my best to turn flat into three-dimensional.

  I failed even as time crept onwards and my attempts became sloppy as my fingers grew tired. Morning had switched to evening before a knock sounded on my door.

  My heart skipped, hoping it was Elder, but as I opened the door, dressed appropriately in a lemon sundress, my hopes fell as a male steward smiled. “Mr. Prest wanted me to inform you we will dock in Monte Carlo at eight a.m. tomorrow and wishes you to be ready to disembark with him.” He looked over my shoulder to the jumbled mess of paper and half-concocted roses. “There is an alarm clock in your room. However, if you need help setting it or would rather a wake-up call, please just dial one, and we’ll arrange it.”

  I nodded, slipping back into silence. I smiled to show gratitude, but for some reason, the thought of speaking to strangers still overwhelmed me. I’d become proficient at conversing with Elder first.

  That was enough, for now.

  The steward bid me good night and I closed the door.

  It wasn’t late—dinner hadn’t even arrived yet—but I made sure to set the alarm clock and prepared for an early sleep so I could be ready for whatever Elder wanted to show me.

  Chapter Seven

  ______________________________

  Elder

  DAWN.

  I loved this time of day. When no one else was around. The world was new. Mistakes hadn’t happened yet. And my mind was quiet.

  Pulling into Monaco was almost as appealing as smoking a joint to relax. This was my domain. No one stepped on my turf without me knowing, and I had an entire factory full of workers who would stand by me if anything from my past decided to show up unannounced.

  Dressing in light denim jeans and a dark grey t-shirt, I opted for loafers rather than flip-flops because I intended to walk a fair distance around the warehouse and introduce Pim to my way of life.

  Once I’d finished work, I’d take her to lunch. Or maybe spoil her rotten by buying whatever ridiculously expensive garment I could from the main street.

  Then again, perhaps I’d ignore her entirely so she got the message that I wouldn’t put up with her arguments. That my word was law. That the deal we’d struck meant she owed me absolutely everything that she was.

  To agree to those terms and not pay up would wreak the worst kind of havoc on my already strained psyche. She had no choice now.

  Stupid girl traded freedom for an unwinnable deal with me.

  Thinking of her made her materialize. She moved taller with a glint in her eye that hadn’t been there before. She braced her shoulders as if prepared to argue yet again, and undo all the hard work I’d done at getting myself together.

  After dinner, I’d spent most of the night drilling myself with the need to keep myself in check, not raise my voice, and above all, prevent my temper from ruining everything.

  Our eyes met as Pim smiled in greeting.

  I didn’t smile back as I glanced at the clock above the small coat check where wet weather gear and other outdoor equipment were stored for disembarking. “You’re two minutes late.”

  She gathered her dark hair into a twist, placing it over her shoulder. She didn’t reply. My ears twitched to hear her voice, but at the same time, I didn’t expect it. To enjoy conversation with her was still a novelty.

  The side of the yacht was already open; the ramp lowered, waiting patiently for us to leave. The subtle scents of sea and sunshine invited us to explore Monte Carlo.

  Pim glanced past me to the turquoise bay and the bustling toy-size city on the faraway shore. Her face brightened, filling with eagerness at adventure rather than paling with fear.

  I’d given her the choice to join me on land last time. Morocco had been a starting place for many things—including whatever we now felt for each other. This time, she didn’t have a choice because she’d thrown that gift in my goddamn face the moment she demanded I keep her.

  I wanted to shake my head in derisive amusement all while I whispered in her ear that she’d made a terrible mistake.

  You should’ve left when you had the chance, Pim.

  She swayed forward, hypnotised by the view; her weight balanced on delicate toes ready to explore.

  I struggled to remember the broken waif I’d rescued. Struggled to recall her bleeding and bruised and too broken to speak to me. To have her evolve so much in such a short amount of time made me proud for having some measure in her progress and pissed that every day she needed me less and less.

  I hadn’t acknowledged just how much I needed to be needed. To have someone to care for after being so goddamn alone.

  Stop being such a dick and man the fuck up.

  She’s not in danger from you because you’ll control it.

  And you’re not in danger from her because you’ll do what? Motherfucking control it, that’s what.

  “Everything’s all set.�
�� Selix pushed past, heading down the ramp.

  Pim startled, her mind already in Monte Carlo before snapping back into her body. The way she jumped then looked immediately at me as if I’d save her from anything harrowing made me grind my teeth.

  Goddammit, did she have any idea the agony she caused? The way her tenacity made me want to take what I needed while her hesitation made me want to be the fucking hero and guard her?

  “Ready?” Holding out my arm, I waited until she’d looped hers through mine. “Are you comfortable?” I glanced at her too-big-for-her blue dress. Once again, the loose material was somehow sexier on her slim frame than a tight miniskirt. The breeze rippled the material around her shape, revealing she wasn’t wearing underwear beneath.

  My jaw clenched as my mind returned to her on my lap and me inside her.

  Christ, will this desire ever go away?

  I waited for a sneer and a comment about her hating clothes and how she’d prefer to be naked, but her quip never came.

  Come to think of it, the past few days she’d willingly dressed with no coercion from me. Either she’d finally accepted social decorum or something else had changed inside her besides the willingness to talk.

  Things had happened between us and not just because of what’d occurred in my room. The storm had broken us down to basics, allowing new versions to build on whatever remained.

  Who knew weather had such power over emotion?

  “Depends,” she said. “Will it be cold where we’re going?”

  Her question tickled my ears. Quiet and respectful, she had none of the bite from dinner last night. It made me want to shove her against the wall and kiss her and cover her in bubble wrap at the same time.

  Get it fucking together. Enough with the inner monologue. You sound like a fool.

  I cleared my throat. “No. Monaco is hot this time of year, and the places we’re visiting aren’t overly air conditioned. My workers prefer to sweat rather than shiver.”

  “I prefer that, too.” Her lips twitched, looking me up and down. “By the way, you look…nice.”