Romance: Auctioned To The Panther: BBW Dragon Shifter Romance Standalone (Wild Shifters Book 2) (7 page)

“Oh, uh, it's nice to meet you,” Grace said.

“And you,” Miranda enthused warmly. “Say, Christian doesn't happen to be around, does he?”

“No, he's out at the moment,” Grace answered. “Some work business. Did you need to talk to him?” She wondered why the woman hadn't just called on the phone… And Grace didn't want to be the jealous type, but she hadn't heard Christian mention a 'Miranda' in the whole time they'd known each other, but if they were such good friends that they just dropped by one another's houses every so often… Well, Grace didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it all just seemed a little strange.

Miranda was still smiling, though. “Actually,” she said, “it was
you
that I stopped by to see, not Christian. Do you mind if I come inside?”

Grace blinked, automatically backing into the house to give Miranda space to enter. The woman swept past her and led the way to the sitting room, clearly very familiar with the place. “Did you want a drink, dear?” Miranda asked, pausing by the bar. “What I need to tell you might be...a bit disconcerting.”

Grace swallowed hard, thinking back to how she had originally come to be there in Christian's home. Had she been wrong all along? Was Christian really involved in the sex slave trade ring? Grace didn't want to admit that she might have been deceived again, but…well, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Miranda could clearly tell the direction her thoughts were running based on her facial expressions, and Miranda herself began to look sympathetic. “Yes, I'm afraid it really is that bad,” she said. “Why don't you have a seat and I'll make us a couple drinks. Trust me, I'm your ally here.”

Grace nodded dazedly and sat down on the couch while Miranda went about mixing a couple drinks at the bar. “Is Christian involved in the...sex slave ring?” she asked tentatively.

Miranda sighed, handing Grace a drink—and one whiff of it told Grace that it was
strong
. That was probably for the best, though. “It's a bit more complicated than that,” Miranda said, sitting beside her on the sofa.

She spun a lock of hair around one finger, clearly thinking of how to say what she wanted to say next. “You see,” she said, “I once belonged to Christian. I escaped...a few years ago now. In fact, I'm surprised it's taken Christian this long to move on to his next victim.” She paused. “Because that's what you are, dear—as much as I hate to say it. You're his victim.”

Grace started to interrupt her—she didn't feel like a victim; Christian had been nothing but kind and caring to her! But Miranda held up a hand. “Please, let me finish,” she said. “It's...difficult to talk about.” And Grace fell silent at that, thinking back on her own story and how difficult that party still was to even think about, let alone talk about.

“Christian bought me, just like he bought you,” she confided. “And I'm guessing he played the same tricks with you as he played with me. Yes, for the first few months of the relationship, he was so kind and so caring, almost letting me believe I was free.

“We'd have breakfast in bed, and we'd have incredible sex. He'd show me around town, take me to parties and make me feel like a princess, make me feel as though I was the only woman he had ever truly had eyes for. I'd never felt so beautiful or special in my life. He promised me a life free from worry, where we could spend all day in bed if we pleased and where I could focus on my hobbies rather than work. I began to think that I'd found the one.

“But that was a lie, of course. By the time anything had changed, I'd fallen out of touch with my friends and family: he was my entire world. Nor was I going to work—why should I need to, when he was there to pay for everything? In short, there was no one to comment on the bruises that began to pop up more and more frequently, and no one to miss me when I eventually disappeared.

“The first time he hit me was around three months into our relationship. I'm sure you've had a taste of how sharp his anger can get, but you probably disregarded it—he was angry at the other men at the auction, but that was righteous anger on your behalf, right?

“It's a bit different when that anger is directed at you.”

Miranda paused and took a deep breath; Grace took a large swallow of her drink, hands shaking. She couldn't believe that first Liam and now Christian had fooled her so easily.

Miranda shook her head. “The thing about Christian is, he...isn't human. He's a beast, preying on innocent young girls like you or me. He gets away with it because he has money and can pay the authorities off, but everyone knows what he's up to. Who do you think arranges those 'parties' as a front to a giant sex slave trade? Christian pays his henchmen to go out and find eligible young women. Some of them get off lightly, with only a night's worth of horrors to contend with. Others, like us, are not so lucky.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, and Grace couldn't help but scoot closer to her on the sofa, putting a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder. “I just can't believe...” she began, then trailed off. Why should she trust Christian, after all? She hardly knew anything about the man except for what she'd heard from him herself, and that could easily have been lies designed to keep her from going to the authorities about this whole thing.

“He's a horrible, wicked man,” Miranda continued after a long moment and a sip of her drink. “The only way I was able to escape was that he injured me badly enough that I ended up in the hospital. For a while, I wasn't even sure I would survive, there was that much internal bleeding.

“After that, fortunately, Christian decided he was tired of playing with me and moved on to other targets. I tried to go to the authorities, but no one seemed to care—they all already knew this was going on, and they just turned a blind eye to it. So I left town and set up a life somewhere else, but...this is my home, and all my family lives here. It's not fair that I should have to leave just because of this monster. Anyway, I was always worried that there would be someone else like me who was drawn into Christian's web without any sort of warning.”

Miranda turned pleading eyes on Grace. “Please—you have to promise me that you'll listen to my warning and leave this place. I don't want to see you hurt the way I was. He's a beast, I'm telling you—an absolute
beast
. Maybe next time he won't stop at injuring someone but will actually
kill
them. You seem like a nice girl; I don't know you, but at the same time, I don't want that to happen to you. Things like this should never happen to anyone.”

Grace shook her head helplessly. “I just… He's been so good to me. But it all makes sense, when you tell me what happened to you. I guess I sort of suspected it as well...” She felt a pang in her heart: she'd so wanted for this one to be different, and she'd thought it was. But the things Miranda was saying rang eerily true.

“I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Miranda said sincerely.

Grace sighed and impulsively leant over to hug the other woman. “Thank you for coming out here to tell me this,” she said. She swallowed. “I guess I need to get out of here before Christian gets back—who knows what he could be planning or how long I have before he...snaps.”

“That's probably the best idea,” Miranda said sympathetically, nodding her head sagely. She pulled a small slip of paper from her clutch and passed it over to the stricken Grace. “If there's anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to call me, please. You aren't alone in this.”

“Thank you,” Grace said again, standing slowly and moving to deposit her glass at the bar. She shook her head dazedly. “I guess you know where the door is? I'm going to grab some things and then...leave.”

“Do you need a ride anywhere?” Miranda asked. “I could–“

“No,” Grace said, cutting her off. The sooner she got away from these crazy socialites, the better! “Thanks, but I'll be fine—I'll call a cab. You wouldn't want to take a limo into my part of town anyway; too many narrow streets and sharp corners.” She tried a smile, but she could feel that it fell a bit flat.

“All right,” Miranda said. “Like I said, though, if you need anything—even if you just need to talk for a bit—you know how to contact me.”

Grace nodded and headed towards the stairs, thoughts whirling around her head.

She could hardly believe that Christian was the man Miranda had described. She thought back to the first time they'd had sex together and how gentle he'd been, how eager he'd been to pleasure her, how hard he'd tried to make her feel comfortable and safe again.

But of course that's what he'd do: it kept her in line. He wouldn't want to have someone unruly calling the police on him, even if he had paid off the authorities. Best that he trick her into loving him and then break her heart.

Grace could feel tears bubbling up, but she refused to let them get the better of her: she'd done enough crying over the past month. What she needed to do now was to formulate a plan.

She'd need to confront Christian about all of this—even though she believed Miranda and was afraid Christian might lie to her, she wanted to see his face when she accused him of being a monster, see if maybe there was the possibility that it wasn't true. She also felt, somewhere deep in her heart, that she owed him the chance to give an explanation for himself, even if he was a monster.

After that, well… She didn't really know what she would do. She didn't feel safe returning to her apartment: if Christian and Liam were really coconspirators, it would be too easy for him to find her there. But just as Miranda had said, she hadn't really kept in touch with very many people over the past month that she'd been staying with Christian: they wouldn't have understood, she didn't think, and anyway, she'd been so focused on making things work out with Christian that she hadn't really...thought to talk to anyone else.

Even now, her mind's eye was clouded with memories of Christian running his smooth hands over her body—of him turning away from his office desk to give her a wicked smile—of him stroking himself to full hardness before slowly pressing into her body… There were so many ways he had distracted her.

As if that had been the plan all along.

Grace threw herself across the bed, pressing her palms against her eyes, her resolve breaking and her tears getting the better of her. She wanted to believe she was just as special as Christian had made her feel, but faced with the evidence, she had a feeling she must've been duped again.

Chapter Nine

Grace didn't intend to doze off while she waited for Christian to return, but she supposed it was almost a good thing she had, otherwise she would've driven herself insane with the thoughts she was chasing around in her head. She didn't want to just accuse Christian of playing her; that would be too easy. No, she would need to be tactical about this. Maybe if she did some snooping, she'd be able to find some solid evidence, rather than just hearsay from what she knew and what Miranda had told her.

There had been something mysterious going on for a while now, if she wanted to admit it to herself. She'd heard those shouted phone conversations and knew Christian had a tendency to disappear at odd hours. And yet, somewhere in her mind, she knew that she trusted him wholeheartedly, despite what Miranda had said.

She loved him, she realized. Although she hadn't known Christian for very long, she really did love him. Sure, he had his secrets, but who didn't? She couldn't believe that he would ever hurt her, not after the concern she'd seen from him on numerous occasions. That said, she still knew she needed to confront Christian about all of this; not only did she want to know about Miranda, but she also wanted to know what was going on.

With that thought in mind, she crept downstairs. Christian must've returned from his business things by now. The lights were on in the front hall, and she could hear someone puttering away in the kitchen, but she doubted that was Christian. She crept towards the office but stopped when she heard noises coming from outside, around the back of the house.

She couldn't make out exactly what the noises were, but it sounded like...a fight? That was odd.

Grace moved slowly towards the back door and opened it carefully, holding her breath and praying that it wouldn't squeak and give her away. She peered out through the crack and was surprised at what she saw. Miranda was still there, and there was Christian. Christian looked angry, while Miranda had an unreadable look on her face.

Grace wanted to jump forward, afraid that Christian would hurt Miranda, but something—maybe her own fear and self-preservation instincts—told her to wait and watch for a minute rather than get involved right away.

“Are you joking me?” Christian yelled. “Or are you not remembering the story correctly?
You
dumped
me
—so you could run off with Liam Henderson or Ryan Davis or whoever the hell it was! I've helped you out with money over the past few years because I always remembered how you used to be, but I didn't
owe
you anything, especially not since you ran off with most of what I owned when we first broke up!”

Miranda laughed. “Does it really matter, Christian?” she asked, voice full of mirth. “You know you don't deserve to be with Grace—you're a
monster
, and we all know it. You use your 'business' to destroy people's lives! But then again, Grace is probably just after your money anyway.”

She swaggered a few steps forward. “But don't worry: I've rid you of
that
little problem. This afternoon while you were away, I stopped by and befriended her—and I told her what a monster you were, how you use and abuse people and how she was nothing more than another of your victims.
She's
never coming back to you.”

Christian stared blankly at her for a moment, mind struggling to make sense of the words she'd just said. She couldn't have...couldn't have possibly convinced Grace that Christian intended to harm her, had she? But then, he knew that Grace didn't fully trust him even then—and she had reason to: Christian still hadn't been able to tell her what he really was, to tell her that she was his mate and that he was a panther-shifter.