How to Fall in Love (72 page)

He does. My father’s glare comes back to me, and with a growl, I sit, too.

“James,” my father begins. “This is my son, Benjamin. He will take over the company when I go. He’s very talented, and I’m sure you’ll find him suited for the tasks we have set out for him.”

The man reaches over the table, and shakes Ben’s hand. “Good to meet you, son.”

“And this is Will.” My father looks me in the face as he says to the man, “He’s a silent partner.” Not his son
. Never his son
. “But he comes to these things to be kept in the loop.” Father’s voice is empty, as though I’m no more than a piece of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

He doesn’t refer to me as his son because he’s ashamed of me; he always has been. My chest coils tightly, and the urge to reach over and grasp his collar, strangling him until all the breath leaves his body, is quite strong.

“My name is William,” I growl, glaring at my father. He snorts, and waves me off.

There’s not a person around, aside from Ben, who calls me Will. My father knows this, yet he does it anyway, because he enjoys bringing me pain.  The man turns his bored expression to me, and studies my face. “What happened to you?”

I stiffen, but like every other time that question is asked, Ben steps in.

“That’s none of your concern. We’re here to discuss the finances, so let’s get started so we can leave, yes?”

I stare at Ben, and he gives me a warm smile before we turn and begin going over the finances.

It can’t end soon enough.

CHAPTER NINE

NUMBER THIRTEEN

Lying on this bed hurts, it hurts so badly. By the time I get back to my room and shower for the night, I am utterly exhausted. I crawl into bed after eating dinner, and I cry out when the sheets feel like sandpaper against my skin. I roll to my side, and throw the blanket over my body so my back is exposed to the cool air. Even though the pain is awful, I still find myself spinning quickly into the deep sleep that takes me each night.

We’re woken early the next morning, with the guards swinging our door open and barking at us to get up. Slowly, I force my sore, aching body out of bed and I stare over at the door with blurry eyes. “You girls are doing the kitchen as well as the washing today. Because of your stupid mistake to try and escape yesterday, you’re taking over the chores for group three today.”

Great.

Like zombies, we all drag our bodies from bed, our eyes heavy, our heads hanging. We eat, dress, and then head out with the guards. As we walk down the halls, we pass the others girl’s rooms. I see some of their doors are open, and they’re sitting on their beds. I stare in at them, feeling oddly connected, even though we’ve not had a chance to interact at all since the first day. I guess it’s just an emotional connection because we all understand something about the other person.

We are all in the same boat.

We’re set to work with the washing first, and between thirteen girls, guards and a master, that washing isn’t a small amount. We set out with a task each—one washes, one dries, one irons, and one folds. It takes a bit of time between each, so we sweep floors and tidy up as we wait. By the time lunch rolls around, my back is throbbing to the point where I feel ill. I know I can’t stop, though, so I push myself to continue.

In the kitchen, I can only see one camera, which is good to know. There’s also a massive walk-in pantry, so every now and then we slip in there and whisper to each other. It’s mostly the other girls checking to see if I’m okay, but at least we can talk without being seen. Obviously we are figured out, though, because a guard comes into the room instead of waiting outside, and he stands watching us for the rest of the day.

There’s just nowhere to escape.

~*~*~*~

WILLIAM

“G
irls, kneel, please,” I order.

Nine girls go to their knees slowly, their heads bowed. I stare down at them, and I know they’re frightened. I understand that. I respect that. The only way for them to understand what I’m doing here is to learn to trust that I know best. I do not want them to fear me; fear is a weak man’s way of getting what he wants. I don’t use fear as a tactic to gain. Instead, I am trying to teach them that I have their best interests at heart.

“It’s been a few days now, and you’re all doing very well. I know you understand where you came from, and you understand your lives before this were less than desirable.”

They don’t move. They don’t need to. They understand what I’m telling them. This group of girls knows about their lives. I’ve allowed that. The group I have selected for myself don’t. They’re far more damaged; it’s up to me to keep those memories from them until I feel they’re ready to accept them fully without breaking down. This is one of the few chances I have to speak to the other nine girls while my group are handling all the chores.

“I’m allowing you to ask me one question each. It’s the only chance you will have. One at a time, you can ask me a question, and I will answer it.”

George walks over, and he taps Number One on the head. She lifts her eyes, staring at me with a look of confusion. I’m in the shadows, so they’re only able to see a very small amount of me.

“Ask your question, Number One. It will be your only chance.”

“W...w...what do you want with me?”

“That answer is simple; I want to give you a better life. But to achieve that, you need to learn your place.”

“Number Two,” George says.

“Are you going to...r...r...r...rape me?”

That word makes me sick. I would never, ever inflict that kind of pain on another person.

“No, I am not,” I grind out, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Number Four.”

“I w...w...want to know about my younger sister. Is she...d...d...d...dead?”

My chest clenches. I promised I’d answer any of their questions, but not all of them have good results.

“Are you sure you want the answer to that, Number Four?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Then I’m sorry, but yes. Your younger sister is gone.”

She makes a pained sound. I take a deep breath, and move on.

“Number Five?”

“Are you going to kill us?” she asks, her voice stronger than the rest.

“Of course not.”

It’s going to take longer for them to understand this than I’d anticipated.

“Number Six?”

“Will we be hurt?”

“That depends,” I say quietly. “If you misbehave, then yes, you will be punished. Sometimes that punishment will hurt. As I’m sure you know, Group Four was punished yesterday. One of the girls received twenty lashes to her back for trying to escape. If you don’t wish this to happen, then you need to follow all my rules.”

She makes a whimpering sound, but nods her head and lowers it.

“Number Eight?”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Number Eight,” George says again.

“I have no questions,” she mutters.

“Are you sure about that?” I say, curious.

“Yes,” she bites out. “I’m sure.”

“Very well,” I say. “You won’t get your chance again.”

“Number Nine?”

“Why aren’t we allowed to see you?”

I flinch. It takes me a moment to be able to answer her as truthfully as I can.

“You need to earn the right to communicate with me, Number Nine.”

“Number Ten?” George continues, cutting off her small protest.

“Can they find us?”

“Define they?” I urge.

“Our old masters.”

I understand her fear. She came from a man who was rather brutal and cruel. She was sold to him a little more than four years ago, but that was long enough for him to change everything about her.

“No, they cannot find you here.”

She seems to lose some of the tension in her body.

“Number Eleven, you’re last,” George says.

“I have nothing to say to you, you fucking pig.”

I straighten. Number Eleven is one of the more brutal of the group, but she’s also had quite a hard past.

“I’ll give you only one chance, Number Eleven. Ask a question, or stay quiet. If you wish to run your mouth off, then you will be punished for it.”

“So punish me, you sick fuck,” she growls.

I sigh, rubbing my temples. “George, escort Number Eleven to the main living room. Have her sit with a gag in her mouth, chained to a chair. She will sit and watch as all the other girls walk past her, staring at her, and she will learn and understand that it is rude and disrespectful to bite the hand that feeds you. She will learn that if she wishes to embarrass me in front of a group, I will return the favor. If she does not learn, then she will remain there until she does.”

“You piece of...”

She doesn’t get to finish before George hauls her up and drags her out of the room.

There’s always one.

W
e’ve been here ten days now. Nothing has changed.

We get up, we do our chores, we go to see the Master, and then we go to sleep, only to start it all over again. To say I’m confused would be putting it mildly. I don’t know why we’re here, or what purpose he has for us. He’s clearly not intent on hurting us, at least, not if we’re behaving, and he’s certainly not going to rape or torture us. So why does he have us? What could he possibly need all these girls for?

A finger trails over my thigh, and I shiver. It’s not a bad shiver, but a curious shiver. I’m with Master William again tonight, and as always, he’s got me on his lap. He rarely speaks, and if he does, it’s usually in a different language. He murmurs words I don’t understand into my ear while he holds me. The first few times he did this it scared me. Now I seem to find a strange comfort in the words I don’t understand.

I still fear him though, because there’s something about this situation that warrants a good amount of fear. It’s really the only emotion we understand right now, and so we hang onto it, like it’s the only thing we have control over. He’s unpredictable, and none of us are sure that this isn’t just an act to gain our trust before something worse comes along.

I don’t remember anything. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, there’s nothing but a fuzzy mess. My memories have been stolen from me, and it’s not likely they’re going to be handed back anytime soon. The fact that they have been so cleverly taken tells me that they’re worth protecting. He doesn’t want me to have them for a reason, and it doesn’t matter how many times I ask him, he refuses to give them back.

He’s keeping a piece of me from myself, and that’s not something I’m okay with.

“You’re behaving well tonight,” he murmurs, shocking me out of my thoughts with his smooth, deep voice. “I’m rewarding your group with a notepad and a pen each. You can write on it, or draw, whatever you like.”

I feel my lip tremble, but I don’t know what to say. So, I say the only thing I can.

“Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

––––––––

M
aster is having a dinner guest tonight, so we’ve been put on kitchen duties to make sure it’s all prepared and ready to go. It’s day eleven, and each day I count and mark in the tiny notepad I keep by my bed. We’ve been working in the kitchen all day, and it’s getting hot in here. None of us speak a lot to each other. We’re still so tangled up in our own desperate thoughts.

“Master has requested that you finish up in here, and get back to your room,” the guard says, entering the room just as I’m finishing up.

I nod obediently and finish flavoring the roast, and then I push it into the oven. I slide a tray with vegetables and potatoes in the other oven, the one that I’ve set at a lower temperature so they cook slower, then I turn to the guard. “The meal will be ready within two hours.”

“We can take it from here.”

He shoves Number Seven and I out of the kitchen, and leads us to our rooms. The others girls were sent off two hours ago to tidy up for the arrival of Master William’s guest.

The minute we step into our room, the guard turns and barks a few orders at the others guards walking past. He walks off down the hall for a second, to speak to the guard right at the end, and it’s at that moment I forgot that I didn’t turn the oven on for the roast; I was too busy seasoning it. They’ll be waiting all night if I don’t do so. Not wanting to be punished again, I run out of the room and head towards the kitchen.

The guard doesn’t notice; he’s too busy laughing with the other guys.

I’m nearly to the kitchen, when I round a corner and slam into a tall, muscled form. His hands instantly come up and curl around my arms, steadying me. 

“Whoa there, I’m sorry—I didn’t see you,” he says, letting me go quickly.

I straighten up, letting my eyes dart up to the man in front of me.  He’s a tall, extremely beautiful man. He smiles down at me, causing the skin around his sky-blue eyes to crinkle. I can’t help but flush. He’s the kind of man that gives you a funny feeling in your belly. He’s tall and well built, wearing a gray suit and a blue tie. He’s got unruly hair that sits messily on his head. His face is heavenly, his olive skin and sky-blue eyes giving him a breathtaking look.

“Hello there,” he almost purrs. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Do you work for Will?”

He’s talking about the master, and he’s also clearly not aware of who I am. I could tell him—the urge to do so is massive—but if he didn’t believe me, I could be punished again, and ruin all chances of escape. Panic rises in my chest, and I find myself fighting against being sensible. I want to tell him who I am; I want someone to give us a chance to be freed from this. But I don’t know who this man is, and it’s too big a risk to take. I open my mouth and stammer, “I’m just...I ah...”

“Do you have a name, sweetheart?”

Do I have a name? My mind is becoming confused, and that familiar swell of frustration consumes me. I let my eyes travel past him to see if the guards are around, but they haven’t come for me yet.

“I, well, I...”

He smiles warmly, and chuckles softly. “I have this affect on most women, but rest-assured, I won’t bite. I’m Ben,” he murmurs, extending his hand.

I reach out and take it, feeling my heart hammer against my chest. He shakes my hand softly, still smiling down at me. “That name?”