I move the cushions around, but still nothing.
Frowning, I stare at the dark leather like it’ll tell me what happened to my things.
They should be right here.
Maybe on one of the entertainment unit shelves? Or in the drawers?
I walk over to the TV and start checking the shelves and drawers. While they aren’t empty, none of my things are in them.
Standing, I turn to face the apartment, running my gaze over everything. I don’t get far in my scan, pausing on the kinky furniture directly in front of me.
It’s been moved around.
The spanking bench is up against the wall, and the cross that Xavier restrained me to is now in the middle of the open space. I dart a quick look over at Darcy’s rainbow wall and see that themajority of the ropes are missing. Only a few stripes of black and blue remain.
Okay, so, yeah, they have been here. Definitely Derek to collect my things, I know that much. And Darcy must be using his actual ropes on me, so it makes sense they are missing. As for the furniture being moved around, maybe they were cleaning? Or just doing the thing people do when they reorganize furniture to create a new look or something.
Nodding to myself, I figure I’ll try the bedroom in case I’m misremembering where I left my supplies. The last rays of natural light are filtering in through the open window and landing on the brand-new light-purple duvet. What happened to the pink and white cover?
And right there, on my pillow, is a teddy bear I’ve never seen before. Light pink fluff and satin paws, with a satin ribbon. It is cute as fuck. But what is it doing here?
Forcing my gaze away from the bear, I scan the rest of the room and check the dresser drawers, but still no sketch pad and graphite set.
There is zero chance it’s in the wardrobe or the bathroom, but I have to check, otherwise my brain will demand another sneaky visit to make sure.
Where I expect the wardrobe to be completely empty, like it has been every other Friday I’ve come to the apartment alone, it’s not. There are several of those fancy bags that high-end stores put their dresses in hanging where I normally put my things. And there are strappy heels and sandals on the floor beneath them.
Unease lines my stomach and the trembling from the hallway returns.
Swallowing, I turn to check the bathroom but don’t even need to step in before I see the vanity lined with all things feminine.
Makeup and brushes. Perfumes. Creams and lotions. And a million other things I can’t focus on because my vision is getting blurry. There is a heavy pounding in my head, and I try to focus, but all I can see are the new things where my things usually go.
What the hell is going on? Why is all this stuff here?
When I first came to the apartment, there had been nothing. It was bare. They said they rarely ever brought anyone to the apartment. But clearly someone is staying here now.
I think I even remember one of them saying something about waiting for the right baby girl to help them fill all the empty space.
Have they found the right baby girl?
Is she one of the women from the club?
Someone not a student at their place of work?
Have I been replaced?
Not with Xavier. He’s never left me. But the others…they’ve been keeping their distance. I assumed it was because I’d asked that of them, but what if…
My brain stutters over my thoughts.
I can’t be here anymore.
I scramble to get out of the bedroom, bumping my thigh against the foot of the bed before I dash back toward the front door, ignoring the sharp flare of pain. But as I pass the kitchen, my gaze snags on a black box sitting on the counter, and as much as I know I really shouldn’t fucking look inside, I can’t help myself.
It’s not very big, square and maybe the size of a dinner plate, and only an inch or two high. With blurred vision, I carefully lift the lid, then muffle my sob with the back of my hand.
A collar.
