“A Keeper? Like one of the men there? Not you…”
“Yeah.”
“So you’re just like Caspian and my ex?”
“No.”
“Certainly sounds like you are.”
“The Keep is different. They treat the Kept more precious than gold.”
“But they’re forced into a social situation that involves sex and servitude.”
“So far, no one’s been forced into anything. The biggest resisters come from a group called the Reavers, and they’re living a good life in an apartment, free of sex. All their needs taken care of.”
“Do they have Keepers?”
“No.”
“Will they?”
“…yes…”
I see what she’s getting at, and I realize that despite my best intentions, I was only going to give her more of what she’s had.
“I realize the point you’re making,” I say quietly, “and I’m not too proud that I can’t admit when I’m wrong.”
“I like that about you.” She crawls beside me, her hand going to my shoulder. “That you’re different. At first, it was a bit unnerving, but your pragmatic views on things make you easy to navigate. You say what you’re going to say, whatever the fallout. Brett said nice things…then he sold me.”
“Do you ever worry that I’ll hurt you?” I ask, truly curious.
“Not anymore. I don’t know why you do the things you do, but I don’t think you want to do them to me.”
“I don’t know if you’re incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.”
“What?” she snickers. “Are you keeping me around to torture in a pinch?”
“No, but you’ve seen my good work, and that’s a powerful motivator for fear.”
“My life was pretty bad before you came into it. Salem made death preferable to breathing. I’d been planning on killing Madam Levy before you showed up, knowing I’d suffer the consequences. You weren’t my devil. You were hers.”
I consider her words and what they mean for us. This isn’t a beautiful love story. Fiona is damaged. So am I. In ways that can never be fixed.
Yet somehow, we found each other. Two broken people without a place in the world.
“I want you,” Fiona confesses, her breathing growing heavy.
What part of our conversation turned her on? If I had to guess, I’d say she’s not opposed to what I do. Quite the opposite.
Which means we’re better suited for each other than I could have hoped for.
“Will you take me on the roof? I want to look at the stars.”
This is…not ideal. It’s another deviation from the norm that I’m so comfortable with. The norm that keeps me from going on murderous rampages.
But for whatever reason, I can’t say no to Fiona, so I swallow my reservations and look at her in a way I know turns her on.
Yes, it’s a mask, but not a bad one. It’s not a complete lie. I just have trouble expressing my lust for her as normal people would.
