Rhys looks at me as if he knows I’m choosing my words carefully because we’re in front of Cassie. He can hear the echo of what I’d say if it weren’t filtered.
“Okay,” he says. “That’s not a problem, but I’m going with you on your job search.”
“Fine,” I say, defeated.
I might not be a slave, but I’m still a prisoner.
Chapter 7 - Rhys
After the girls get ready, I drive them into the nearest town center, not sure if I should take Sadie to places owned by pack members or ordinary humans.
Where would she feel more comfortable? I can’t risk her exposing us, so it might be better if I only take her to places I know.
“Rhys, could you take me to a department store or something?” Sadie asks, almost through gritted teeth.
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Some clothes. I can’t go job-hunting like this.”
“Oh,” I say. “No problem.”
I look sideways at her, trying not to stare at her.
I thought she just liked comfy old clothes. Am I missing something here?
“Clothes were left for us,” Sadie says, filling in the blanks. “I just don’t like mine.”
“Oh,” I say again, suddenly realizing I made no provisions for either of them and trusted the pack to take care of it. “That’s fine,” I say. “You should have told me. I can get you anything you need.”
“I like to take care of myself,” she replies.
We drive in silence for a few minutes, and I wonder how I should respond to that.
I want her to feel comfortable here, but at the same time, she is technically my prisoner. If it wasn’t for the ritual, I would never have seen her again.
The thought chills me to the bone. I’ve grown so close to my daughter over the last week, I can’t imagine life without her now, and not being able to tell her the truth is beginning to eat away at me.
When can I tell her? What should I tell her? I don’t even know what’s going to happen…
When we pull up at the shopping center, Cassie bounces out of the car, looking beautiful in a pale blue dress with frills. When Sadie gets out, I finally take a good look at her faded corduroy slacks and flannel shirt.
Impossible to tell if they deliberately dressed her like this or just didn’t care. Either way, someone clearly made an effort with Cassie.
We go into the department store, and Sadie heads for the women’s section while Cassie drags me towards the toys. I don’t want to split us up, but Sadie says I should take Cassie and let her shop.
She wouldn’t run out on her daughter, would she? I don’t think so, but I don’t want to let her out of my sight, either.
Finally, I let Cassie drag me over to the toys and spend some time watching her press all the buttons on the noisy ones and bounce up and down with excitement at the resulting chaos. To my surprise, she likes dinosaurs and fancy model cars.
“I thought you’d like dolls and pretty things,” I say, pointing at the girls’ toys.
“Ick,” Cassie says, making a face. “I like fast cars and big, scary dinosaurs a lot more. I like your car, Rhys.”
She frowns a little, and I ruffle her hair.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“It’s weird. I’ve never called a grown-up by their first name before, except my babysitter.”
