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“C-C-Cain.” Tears drip down onto my hand, and I lean down to kiss along her cheek, savoring her taste as I go. I love her tears. I’m sick, I know. “T-T-T” she sniffles in, trying to speak through her adorable stutter that only I am privy to. Only I ever get to see her fracture from her well-put-together self. “My c-cupboard...”

Fuuuckkk me. It seems her feelings about small dark spaces have changed since I rescued her from near death. I sync the rhythm of my thumbs together. One along her pulse point, one along her lower back. All while keeping her glued to my front and taking deep breaths. Co-regulation is the best thing for a panic attack.

“I’m here, you are safe.” She presses her face to my chest, taking the help and trying to settle herself down. “Behind these walls are large corridors. We can travel throughout the house unseen. I am here. You are safe.” Her breathing slows, settling, connecting, and matching with mine. Her hesitation dwindles as she hands her worries over to me, allowing me to guide her through this.

How is it that someone like her exists in this crazy, fucked up world? With all she’s been through, her trust in me is my most precious treasure.

She steps back a fraction, just enough to take my hand and glue herself to my side. I walk, counting the paces I’ve spent hours memorizing. There were torches mounted along the walls, but that defeated the purpose of this place. If I want to make this a safe place to hide, I don’t want someone else to be able to light their way and follow along. So, every corridor is memorized. How many paces, how many steps on each staircase, all of it. And she will know them, too.

“How many languages do you speak?” Violet sings in a variety of languages, but I’ve only heard her speak English and Russian in conversation.

“Just our national languages. Although I understand everything I sing.”

“I want you to expand on that… Most importantly.” With my hand on her back, I sign, “sign language.”

“Okay.”

Such a good girl, accepting my lead.

We walk along the corridors and up and down stairways in the west wing. Violet stays at my side as I count our paces in a whisper. We do this 3 times before I guide her back to where we started. I thud against the spade, and we swivel back into the hallway.

I take her to her room, shutting the door behind us. This is certainly my least favorite part of every day. Well, I’m not sure which is worse, going to sleep or waking up without her by my side. When she moved into the manor, I wanted to empty half of my bureau and move her things into my space. As it is, having her just a few rooms down from me is almost too obvious. We are the only two people on this level in this hallway.

Leaning against the door, legs crossed at the ankles, I watch her. She slips her dress onto a hanger and hooks it on the side of her full-length mirror. When she removes her bra and braids her hair, revealing herself to me, I swallow at the sight, my marks still healing over her back and hips. The ones on her ass are peeking out from her tight shorts. It takes everything I have not to throw her down and feast on her. It’s all I want, but I stop myself. She needs to heal; she needs to rest. I can’t exhaust her every night. I will have her soon, though.

Violet grabs a lace night gown from her wardrobe and slips it on, looking like a soft angel from an old period film. I push off the door to meet her, nudging her chin up with my knuckle, and press my lips to hers.

She climbs into bed, pulling the blankets up over her shoulder. And like every night, I grab a sketch pad and charcoal I’ve been leaving in her nightstand drawer and take the chair next to her bedside. Sketching something for her to wake up to as she drifts off to sleep.

I was wrong. This isn’t the worst part of the day.

The worst part is leaving her after she’s gone to sleep.

Violet

Chapter 14

“You look soooo good.” Pru beams at me through the mirror. She begged me to let her pick out my outfit, and of course, she chose something from her closet instead of mine. “The boys will eat their hearts out.” Pru isn’t just petite; she is tiny, and her clothes leave nothing to the imagination on my more athletic frame. Today, she has me in a long-sleeved black knit dress that hugs my curves and stops just below the knee. My blonde hair is down, draping over my shoulder and down my back in long waves. It reaches close to my tailbone now. At first, she wanted me to wear a dress with a plunging back that stopped at my mid-thigh. But there was no way I’d be going out in something that made me feel completely naked.

“I told you, I’m not looking to get attention.”

“And why is that again?” I divert my gaze, grab my plum lipstick from my vanity, and reapply. I’ll have to bring this with me tonight. Cain left a hickey so dark on my lip it’s practically the color of my lipstick. Purple is his favorite color, and he bought me the lipstick to hide the evidence of our rendezvous, which he frequently leaves behind. Can’t have anyone knowing that we are together every night. That he conditions my body and mind to serve him while honoring myself, that he brutalizes me in the most poetic and beautiful way, then kisses and takes care of me as if he actually cares about me.

It hurts to keep us a secret. He says it’s for my safety, but he won’t tell me what he is keeping me safe from. It’s starting to feel like he’s embarrassed that he wants to do these things with me. Or maybe this is just what he’s into, and he knows none of the other women he could be with would want to do it. Maybe he doesn’t like me at all, but he likes what I can provide for him.

I swallow those thoughts and tuck them away. If I feed into them the pain will build to the point I’m physically ill. Whatever we have will come to an end soon, that is, if it’s not already over. I never really believed that he would marry me. And now that my mom is getting worse, I know that my time with him is coming up. I refuse to live with my Uncle. I’ll marry Marcus, and he will be free to be with Morgan.

Because that’s right! She’s back… I never minded her much, but while we were doing our makeup at rehearsals last night, she told the entire company that she moved back to be with Cain. How they reconnected on his deployment, and she thinks it’s for good this time.

That made me instantly nauseous. I know we never discussed being exclusive, but I’ve been putting in major effort to stay loyal to him. Pru asks me every week to go out on double dates with her, and it’s starting to get really hard to say no.

Maybe I’m being selfish or wanting something more than the dynamic we have. But I don’t want to share him. And… Maybe I wish he wanted me in that way, too.

“Seriously, I thought you and Cain were going somewhere. His sketches told me so!”

“I guess not.” I hook my arm with hers, and we make our way to the dinner theater.

Dean invited us all for an early dinner before the club opens. The social butterfly can’t go for half a day without needing to surround himself with people. I, on the other hand, could go days on my own so long as I had a good book and some music.