Everything beyond that light is swallowed by darkness. Pitch-black.
There, in the cover of the shadows, The Restorer is waiting. Watching. Measuring. Hunting me.
The hair on the back of my neck stands. My hands twitch at my sides.
Get it together. He’s only a man.
A man who took off my clothes. Who touched me. Who demanded I wear this see-through garment.
Oh no.
I forgot to button the dress. I must have gotten used to it over the last few hours.
A rush of heat crawls up my neck before I remind myself that the tiny button won’t do me any good.
Hugging myself might help, though. My heavy arms move, crossing over my chest to cover my breasts. Nothing I can do about my pussy.
Nothing I could do about my breasts either if The Restorer decides to…handle me once Mary is gone.
At that, my stomach knots tight. My teeth knock together.
By the time we reach the pedestal, I’m shaking with fear.
I’m scared of him. Of myself, too. Of the inexplicable pull drawing me toward the sick stage waiting for me where I can’t see him.
Even as every instinct I have screams for me to run, I’m gravitating toward it.
What the hell is going on?
Mary picks up on my hesitation and gives me a slight nudge. My legs tremble as I climb onto the pedestal.
“Mary?” The light beam feels like it’s closing in on me. My ribs, they’re pressed in, digging into my lungs. I don’t want to be left alone with The Restorer. “Can you stay?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” She pats my hand. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”
With that, she leaves us alone. Me and the man who holds my future in his hands.
My eyes scan the room as the tension keeps rising, high enough to split me in half.
“Hello?” I whisper, when what I really want to do is scream.
Time stretches, the silence growing unbearable the longer it lasts.
The tension is about to snap. I’m about to scream.
Then—
He’s coming.
At first, all I hear are dress shoes moving across the stone floor.
A tremor sweeps through me when he steps out of the shadows. Tall and lean. Broad-shouldered. He’s only a silhouette, but I know it’s him.
He’s the one who waited for me at the window. The one I saw when I was drugged.
He’s definitely not from town. Not one of Barclay’s bookies either. I feel foolish for not realizing it sooner. They aren’t built like this, none of them.
So if it isn’t them, who is he?
