Knight (An Impossible Novel) (7 page)

It was much more difficult to obey the sketch artist.  She wanted to know what that Bastard looked like, and recalling his appearance in detail had been traumatic.  Master held me for hours afterward, stroking my hair and whispering words of comfort.  He didn’t say it aloud, but his touch and promise of safety reassured me that I belonged to him now.

Clayton came to check in on me frequently, but he didn’t ask me any more painful questions.  Truthfully, he seemed to watch Master just as carefully as he assessed my own well-being.  I appreciated that he wanted to look out for Master, and I found his presence comforting. Clayton was always so kind and calm.  He laughed easily, and even Master’s more prickly comments seemed to roll right off him.

A psychologist came to see me once, but – much to Susan’s disapproval – Master scared her off.  Master and Susan had a heated argument about it in the hallway just outside my room, but Susan finally backed down.  It was decided that I should recover my physical strength before facing therapy.  I was immensely grateful to Master for protecting me from the pain of facing my past.

He was so good to me, and he never asked me to do anything for him in return.  All of his rules were established for my own benefit rather than his pleasure.  I was puzzled by this arrangement, but I knew better than to question my Master.  I eagerly accepted my new life, fully committing myself to serving Master and pleasing him through my obedience.

I dreaded the rising sun; daylight meant Master’s absence.  He stayed with me every night, and the pang in my heart that accompanied his departure in the morning troubled me throughout the long hours until he returned.

Now that pang had sharpened to the cut of a twisting knife.  Darkness had fallen hours earlier, but Master had yet to return to me.  He had called around sunset to let me know that he was going to work late.  He wanted so badly to track down the man who had hurt me, and apparently the FBI had found a promising lead.  I didn’t care about that, but it wasn’t my place to question Master’s wishes.

Susan had agreed to stay with me until Master could come back to me.  She had been with me since the crack of dawn, and lines of exhaustion appeared around her eyes as midnight approached.

The clinic had gone quiet.  Only minimal staff stayed on to cover the night shift, and the usual bustle in the hallway outside my room had lowered to intermittent hushed conversations.  Laughter emanated from the TV in my room.  Susan had put on some sitcom to help distract me from my growing anxiety, but the rapid-fire jokes exchanged by the beautiful people on the screen were lost on me.

Susan yawned widely and glanced at her watch.  Sighing, she turned off the TV and stood, stretching her muscles.

“I’m going to get a cup of coffee, Jane,” she informed me softly.  “And don’t worry.  I’m going to call Agent James to find out where he is.  I promise I’ll make him come see you soon.  In the meantime, close your eyes and try to get some sleep.”

I knew it would be impossible to fall asleep without Master’s warmth beside me, but Susan had given me an order.  Compliantly, I closed my eyes as she turned to leave my room.  I
did my best to brush off my uneasiness at being left completely alone.  I knew Susan would be back soon, and she was going to call Master.  She would convince him to return to me.  I took several deep breaths and tried to push down my rising panic.

A hand clamped down on my mouth, long fingers digging harshly into my cheeks.  Despite Susan’s order, my eyes snapped open as fear shocked my system.

The sick light in his muddy green eyes made bile rise in the back of my throat along with choking terror.

“Don’t make a sound, whore,” my former master whispered menacingly.

Chapter 6

No.

He couldn’t be here.  Master had promised that the Bastard would never touch me again.  But his cruel grip on my jaw and the savagely pleased smile that twisted his lips were all too real.

“You’re going to come with me quietly, slave.  If you resist me or try to call for help, your punishment will be even more severe.”

His chilling words threatened to make my muscles freeze.  But I had to fight him.  I couldn’t allow him to take me from Master.  I didn’t belong to him anymore, and I didn’t have to obey him.

I struggled beneath him, clutching at his arm in an effort to free myself from his grip.  His hand only left my mouth for an instant before it cracked across my cheek.

Pain and the taste of coppery blood ripped me from the present.  The warmly-lit room that was my new reality swirled around me as my head spun.

It wasn’t real.  It had never been real.  It was just a harsh trick that the Bastard – no, he was Master – had played on me to give me cruel hope that my life could be less painful.  He had told me He was taking me to Decadence to test me.  All of this had been a test.  And I knew I had failed.

Agony awaited me in my cold prison.  I didn’t want to go back there.  But I didn’t dare fight my Master.  The horror of the torture I would endure would only be that much more terrible if I did try to defy Him.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as His hand closed around my upper arm, but I swallowed back my despairing sobs.  He had ordered me to be quiet.

He wrenched me upright, jerking me from the comfortable warmth of the bed.  I stumbled as I struggled to find my feet.

“What are you doing in here?”  Susan asked sharply from where she stood in the doorway, a steaming cup of coffee clutched in her small, wrinkled hand.  Her stance was threatening, but she had never looked more slight and frail.  Master would hurt her if she stood in His way.

“She fell, and I came in to help her up,” Master replied smoothly.

Susan’s eyes narrowed as she appraised Master, taking in His blue scrubs before studying the way that His hand gripped my arm.  “All of the male staff members know to stay out of Jane’s room.  And you certainly shouldn’t be touching her.  What’s your name, orderly?”

Master’s fingers dug into my flesh as His muscles coiled.  I couldn’t let Him hurt Susan.  I knew He would punish me if I spoke without permission, but I had to try to protect her.

“Please don’t hurt her, Master,” I whispered imploringly.

Susan’s eyes widened, and she gasped as comprehension dawned.  To my horror, she lunged towards us rather than turning and running as she should have.  I clutched at Master’s arm in a desperate attempt to hold Him back, but He had always been far stronger than I was.

My efforts allowed Susan a s
plit-second to punch the nurse call button beside the bed before Master was on her.  There was a sickening crack as He slammed her head against the wall.  Her body slid to the floor, leaving a crimson streak on the white paint as she fell.

Master cursed as He grabbed me, His hand gripping my sex roughly.

“This cunt is mine, slave,” He snarled.  “You thought you could run from me?  You’ll always belong to me.”

Approaching footsteps echoed down the hall.  Master released me, shoving me away from Him with another curse.  I dropped to my knees automatically, desperate to prove my supplication.

“No amount of groveling will save you,” He told me furiously.  His boot drove into my side, and the world flickered out of existence as agony ripped through me.  “I’ll be back for you, slave.”  His vicious promise drifted down to me where I lay on the floor, my body curled protectively around my injury.  I heard Him walk quickly away from me, but I felt no sense of relief.

“I’ll be back for you, slave.”

He was going to return.  He would come back to torment me, to use me.  He always did.  I had to do everything I could to appease Him.  Maybe He wouldn’t hurt me as badly if I pleased Him.

The t-shirt and sweatpants that I wore grated against my skin.  I wasn’t allowed to hide my body from Him.

Shoving back the pain that paralyzed me, I tore at the clothes.  Once I was appropriately naked, I pushed myself up onto my knees and spread them wide, exposing my cunt for His use.  My hands clasped at the small of my back, and I thrust out my breasts as I straightened my shoulders.  I bowed my head, staring at a spot on the floor.

I had thought the abused slave no longer existed, but that was a lie.  The agony that radiated outward from my side, the throbbing of my cheek, and the tang of blood in my mouth made that all too clear.  My tears burned as they rolled over my frigid skin.

“What the-?  Susan!”  The woman’s voice was panicked as she raced into the room.

I didn’t look up.  I barely breathed for fear that any movement would be taken as a sign of defiance.

“I need help in here!”  The woman shouted.  Shrill beeping filled the room when she pressed the Code Blue button.  “Oh, shit, shit!  Susan!”  Her voice was tinged with hysteria.

Susan. 
Master had hurt Susan.  But I couldn’t go to her.  The only way I could help her now was to prove to my Master that I could be good.  If I pleased Him, then maybe I could convince Him not to hurt her again.

The room was suddenly cacophonous as several people stormed in.  Sharp, quickly-spoken words punctuated the incessant beeping.  All of the sounds swirled together to become a high, piercing whine.

“Jane!”  A masculine hand reached out for me, but I didn’t recognize it.  I couldn’t allow anyone but Master to touch me.  He wouldn’t like that.  I cringed away from the man, but I didn’t break from my submissive pose.  “Someone get me a sedative,” the man barked.  Seconds later, a syringe appeared in his hand.

I shook my head vigorously.  I didn’t want the sting of the needle.  I didn’t want the oblivion that would come along with my reward.  It hurt too badly when I was denied its kiss.  I would rather endure the pain of the beating that was coming than return to that state.

“Get away from her.”  His voice boomed through the small space, and all of my attention honed in on him. 

He
was real.  My new Master was real.

The whining quieted, and I realized that the sound had been issuing from my own throat.

He crouched down in front of me and placed his fingers beneath my chin, forcing my head up.  His concerned eyes filled my vision, and a fresh flood of tears welled up.  Only this time, they were tears of relief rather than despair.

“Tell me what happened, girl,” he ordered evenly.

“Master came for me,” I whispered.  “He hurt Susan.”

His eyes flashed.  “What have I told you about calling him that?”  He demanded harshly.  “He’s not your Master.”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed.  My mind was reeling, torn between my past and present.  The pain and fear that gripped me threatened to pull me under, to return me to my deadened state where nothing existed by the need to please my former Master.  But now my new Master had returned to me, and my heart yearned to accept him.

Master’s gorgeous eyes regarded me carefully.  “Address me properly, girl,” he commanded evenly.

“I’m sorry, Master.”  The acknowledgement of his ownership centered me, and the paralyzing terror eased from my muscles.  Master had claimed me.  He would keep me safe.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised.  “But if I’m your Master, then why are you following his rules?  I ordered you not to take off your clothes without specific instructions to do so.”

Oh, no.
  I had disobeyed him.  I trembled as I braced myself for his anger.

His hand stroked up and down my arm in a soothing rhythm.  “It’s okay, girl.  I forgive you.  But know that there will be consequences if I ever hear you refer to him as ‘Master’ again.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master,” I said quickly.  “I’m sorry, Master.”

“That’s enough apologizing,” he told me steadily.  “Get dressed.”

He did most of the work for me, directing my limbs as he wanted them so he could more easily pull on my clothes.  When he was finished, he hooked one arm under my knees and placed the other around my back, cradling me to his chest as he lifted me up.

I realized that the only person left in the room with us was the man who had been holding the syringe.  Susan was gone.  A pool of her blood mingled with her spilled coffee.

“Where’s Susan?”  I asked shrilly as panic threatened to claim me once again.

“They’ve taken her to ICU,” the man replied.  He eyed Master warily.  “Where do you think you’re taking Jane?”

“You people are obviously incapable of keeping her safe,” Master said derisively.  “I’m taking her into protective custody.”

Without sparing the man a backwards glance, he strode from the room and carried me out into the unfamiliar outside world.  The prospect would have terrified me, but I was calm in his arms.  So long as I gave myself over to his will, he would keep me safe.  I didn’t have to think, didn’t have to worry,
didn’t have to be afraid.  Master would look after me and tell me what to do.

I stared up at him in order to avoid the overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells of the outside world.  His ferocious scowl would have been terrible to behold, but I knew his ire wasn’t directed at me.

The scent of damp asphalt filled my nostrils as we stepped out into the night, and the summer air hit my skin for the first time in longer than I could remember.  The way the warm breeze played over my skin and ruffled my hair was both exquisite and disconcerting.

Master’s eyes keenly surveyed the area before proceeding beyond the threshold of the building that housed the detox facility.  When he deemed it safe to do so, we crossed the short span of sidewalk that separated us from a shiny black sedan.  His movements were hurried but his hands were steady as he situated me in the passenger seat.

A pang of fear made my stomach twist when he released me to circle around the car, but it soon eased when he slid into the driver’s seat and the car doors locked with a reassuring click.  He wasted no time cranking the engine and slamming his foot down on the gas pedal.  The speed of the moving car as we wove in and out of traffic made the lights of the city flash through the interior of the car in rapid starbursts.

Despite Master’s comforting presence, my body was going into sensory overload.  Since I had been freed from my prison, I had known nothing but the small room in the clinic.  Adjusting to that radical cha
nge had been difficult enough.  Now I was reminded of just how big the world was outside of those confined spaces.  Memories that belonged to the woman I used to be stirred in the depths of my mind. 
She
was the one who recognized this wide world, but I couldn’t allow myself to access her awareness of it.

That woman was a wild thing, a real person with free will and independent thought.  Those capabilities were beyond my realm of experience, and attempting to harness them would shatter me.

“Clayton,” Master said abruptly.  “I need you to get to St. Paul’s ASAP.”

I felt a moment of confusion, but then Master continued on.  “That Bastard came back for her.  Fuck!”  He barked out.  “I should have been there.”

There was another brief pause.  I realized Master was talking to his friend on the phone.

“No.  She’s with me.  She’s a little banged up and traumatized, but she’ll be okay.  I ne
ed you to get over to the clinic to see what you can find on that Bastard.  And take Miller with you.  I want him in on this.”

Clayton’s voice emanated from the phone in an unintelligible, distorted rumble.

“No.”  Master growled the word.  “There was no sign of him.  I would have searched the place, but I was more concerned with getting her out.  Check the surveillance cameras and question the staff.  Don’t let anyone leave that building until they’ve been vetted.  The fucker hurt Susan.  It looked pretty bad, but she might be able to tell us more if she makes it through.”

Pause.

“Of course I’m going to ask her what happened.  But I’m not about to put her through that tonight.  And no, you can’t question her.  I’m taking her to my apartment.”

Pause.

“She’s not going to a fucking safe house, Vaughn,” Master snapped.  “I don’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.  You can come by my place in the morning if you want to argue with me about it then.”

Master didn’t say anything else; he had ended the call.

Despite the horror of what I had been through in the last hour, a small smile played around the corners of my mouth.  Master was going to keep me with him.  He was going to protect me.  Just like that, the last vestiges of my fear melted.  So long as he was by my side, I would be safe.

A few minutes later, the car stopped, and Master was at the passenger side door.  He gathered me up in his arms again, and I pressed my face into his chest as he carried me, honing all of my focus on him.  His rich, amber-tinged whiskey scent enfolded me, anchoring me.

There was a
ping
and the sensation of upward movement.

Elevator.

I shook off the recognition.  Where I was didn’t matter.  All that mattered was that Master was taking me where he wanted to.  There was only his will and my compliance.  Nothing else mattered.