Tender Mercies (3 page)

Lainey was waiting by the gold rope like a vulture. “Well?”

“I’m going home. Don’t ask me to come here again. I’m done with this fake bullshit.”

***

Three weeks later Grace had slipped further into a funk. Work, home, frozen dinners, sleep: that was life now. She’d avoided Lainey as much as she could, not wanting to be subjected to any more of her set-ups. The truth was, if she hadn’t crumpled the card and embarrassed herself by acting like a child, she might have called Eric.

If the island was no longer an option, he certainly seemed like he had it together. And in order to even
be
a platinum member of
Edge
, there couldn’t be any red flags. The club was careful about that. It was one of the reasons it was considered a relatively safe place to play and meet up with potential dominants.

She couldn’t bring herself to go back to the club because she was afraid she might run into Eric, probably with whoever he’d chosen to be the illustrious submissive of Mr. Investment Banker, a slap in the face she could do without. If she went back, it would be obvious she was on the prowl for a dominant, and he was off the table now––especially after that little scene the night she’d met him.

She wasn’t sure what the plan was now, but her dreams of the island had grown murky and disjointed. Where once they’d been vivid and so real she could swear she was awake, now they were a passing shadow that blurred around the edges, then puffed out of existence altogether.

While she was contemplating her lack of options for a kinky future, the phrase,
Stoneman has logged in
, flashed across the bottom of her screen. For a moment she didn’t breathe. He’d obviously been avoiding her, and if logged in, he’d been logging in invisibly. Or from a different account. Would he message her? Should she message him first?

The lit-up smiley face beside his name shone happily back at her while her stomach twisted in knots trying to figure out how not to fuck this up. Or even if there was a
this
to fuck up. Maybe he was just checking something on the account and then he’d be gone again, forever. Five minutes passed in limbo. Right as she was about to type something lame like
hey
, his words popped up on the screen.

Stoneman:
I’ll ask again. Are you getting on that plane, Grace?

She sucked in a breath and stared at the screen. He couldn’t start with the easy questions.

Gracie343:
I thought you were done with me. I haven’t had time to think about it.

Stoneman:
I call bullshit. I doubt you’ve thought much of anything else.

Gracie343:
I didn’t know it was still a decision for me to make. I haven’t had the opportunity to think about it like I would have if I hadn’t thought you’d abandoned me.

Stoneman:
You didn’t like me pressuring you. Now you don’t like me leaving you in peace and
not
pressuring you. Time’s up. Are you coming or not?

Gracie343:
When?

Stoneman:
I’ll buy you a ticket for tomorrow. Planes don’t land directly on Eleu, so you’ll have to take a short boat trip.

Gracie343:
How can I trust you when you’ve acted like this? You expect me to put my life in your hands now?

Stoneman:
We’ve talked for over a year. We’ve sent pictures. We’ve been on webcam. You’ve been given enough information about me to verify and confirm and check for a criminal record. I’ve given you the tools to do that. I’m no more dangerous than any other man you could meet in a bar.

Gracie343:
Except for the fact that you’d own me, and I wouldn’t have any legal rights.

Stoneman:
Which you’ve told me repeatedly that you want. Time to put your money where your mouth is. Would it be easier if you saw my face again? Do you want to talk on webcam?

Gracie343:
Okay.

A few moments later she pressed
Accept
on the video call.

“Hey.” His intense brown eyes drank her in. “You’re dressed.” He sounded disappointed.

“So are you.”

He shrugged.

Though they’d played on webcam, he hadn’t allowed her to use titles. No
Master
or
Sir
. Because he said it wasn’t real. He only wanted a title from her if she came to the island. It had been a hard thing to get used to, and if she went to him, the complete shift in their dynamic and where the power rested would be even harder to get used to.

“I won’t be an easy master,” he said.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

She sighed. “Are you trying to scare me off?”

“No, I just want you to know what you’re getting into and come to me of your own free will. So should I buy you a plane ticket?”

“Can’t I have more time? I didn’t know I’d ever hear from you again.”

He shook his head, his face growing stern. “Absolutely not. You’ve had a year. You’re either in or you’re out. Take the risk or stay where you are. Make a choice now, Grace.”

She took a deep breath and looked around her apartment and thought of what very little she had to leave behind. Would she regret it if she said no and never spoke to him again? Or if she said yes and things went south? Everything about him had checked out. He’d admitted he wouldn’t be a pushover. He’d given her plenty of time to make a choice. Hadn’t he acted in good faith? She twirled a strand of hair around her fingers and finally nodded.

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

Two

Eight months later, Grace had her answer. She’d regret it more if she said yes and things went south. Reality was perhaps a crueler master than Lucas, but not by much. The day she’d gotten on the plane, she’d mailed a letter to Lainey, the content of which still made her cringe:

I know you were only trying to help with Eric, but I want something real. By the time you receive this letter I’ll already be on the island. I’ll miss you. Maybe he’ll let me instant message you sometime.

But that never happened. She’d begged and pleaded, thinking perhaps if she were good enough, he’d let her use the computer, let her contact someone from the outside world. Lainey had been right. Reality hadn’t been what she’d wanted, unless it was a reality she’d orchestrated with the circumstances that turned her on.
This
did not turn her on.

She wished more than anything that she hadn’t been such a brat to Eric, that she’d just tried things with him. If she had, maybe she would have fallen in love. Maybe he could have given her something that would have made her happy. Having only lived in one 24/7 relationship, she hadn’t been equipped to judge them all. Eric could have been different.

This realization came far too late as she hung in the chains in Lucas’s dungeon where she was beaten and violated, moving from the nightmare of being awake to the nightmares of sleep on an endless loop. As it turned out, he had no other slaves, at least not at the moment, though she desperately wished he did. Anything to cause him to turn his attention and obsession onto someone else. Anyone else.

She shuddered as she thought of her first day in Eleu.

***

“You understand the rights you are relinquishing and that you no longer claim citizenship in any country?” The question came from an older man with kind eyes.

Grace nodded, her stomach doing a little flip from both excitement and nerves.

“You are here of your own free will?”

“Yes.”

“No one has coerced you in any way to come here?”

She thought for a minute. Had Lucas coerced her? Their last video call had seemed pretty high-pressure. Then again, he’d waited a year, showing a level of patience that had surprised her. And he’d spent a full month away. It was pretty hard to coerce someone when you weren’t even talking to them. If she’d been wired any other way she would have gotten back
out there
, started looking for someone else and given up the fantasy of the island.

“Miss?”

Her gaze shot back to the customs agent and she flushed a little. “No.”

His eyes seemed to delve into her soul, as if trying to determine if she spoke the truth and if she showed any signs of distress. After a few moments, he nodded and slid an official-looking piece of paper across the desk.

“Sign this and hand over all identifying cards and other similar materials that you have on you: driver’s license, passport, etc.”

She read the paper, knowing what it said already. Lucas had emailed her a copy of the form several months prior. Still, she read it again just to be sure. She hesitated for only a moment before scrawling her name across the bottom, making her now and forevermore subject to the laws of the island. Her hand shook a little as she slid the requested materials back across the desk.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “There are few laws that will protect you here.”

“I’ve known him for a year.”

That seemed good enough for the agent.

Once she was finished there, she was taken directly to Lucas who was waiting out back, dressed in an expensive, dark suit. His eyes practically glowed in anticipation of possessing her.

She’d goggled at the size of his house when they arrived and bent to scratch the Australian shepherd behind his ears. The dog jumped on her and licked her face.

And that was the end of normal and safety.

She was taken to the incinerator in the basement. He took the things she’d brought to the island and tossed them in. They were things that reminded her of home, things that gave her comfort.

Her hand flew to her mouth as her belongings went up in flames.

“That life is over,” he said gruffly. When the tears flowed freely down her cheeks he said, “I told you I’d be a hard master. You should have listened to me and taken it seriously. Strip.”

Grace felt numb. Her first instinct was to run, but even if she got out of the house, this wasn’t her homeland. There was no one who would save or protect her here. She’d be a runaway slave, punished in whatever way their law dictated. There was nowhere to go.

As if a switch had flipped, she went into survival mode. The idea of happiness and contentment leeched out of her like so much petty frivolity, replaced by a need to appease him, to do whatever it took to stay alive. She hurriedly took off her clothes.

“Jewelry, too,” he said.

She took out her earrings and handed them over, then looked down at the garnet ring on her hand.

“Please, not this one. It was my mother’s.”

He’d already tossed her clothing and earrings in the fire, and now his hand was out, waiting for the ring. “Now!” he barked. “You don’t want punishment on your first day.”

She struggled to get the ring off and gave it to him, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see it tossed in to be destroyed with everything else that held meaning to her.

“I don’t understand . . . why . . . why are you being this way? You weren’t like this before.” She knew she sounded naïve and stupid, but she’d thought she’d been so careful, so smart about everything. But how smart was it to fly thousands of miles to give yourself over to a practical stranger to do with as he wished? Of course he would be decent online, where he had no power.

Her eyes focused on the ground, unable to look at him after she’d walked right into his trap. She jumped when he laughed.

“Sweet, little Grace. I like slaves who are careful, who agonize over the decision. You’re the one I had to fight hardest to acquire. I found several potentials to replace my last slave, but they were all too stupid. After a week they were ready to come here. But you . . . you were different. You were a prize worth owning.”

“What happened to the last slave?”

“Oh no, pet. You won’t have an easy slip into peaceful death with me. I sold her last week. I won’t be at all surprised if he kills her, though.”

The tears fell silently, and she had to take slow, deep breaths to stay quiet. She didn’t resist when he put her in a cold, dark cell and left her for the night.

***

He’d left her there three days, feeding her bland food through a slot in the door. It was as if he were sending her the message that she wasn’t all that important; he wasn’t so taken with her that he had to play with her right away. She was expendable and easily forgotten.

When he’d finally stepped into the room, she’d been so desperate to please him, to gain any level of favor at all to improve her situation, that she’d obeyed him without question. But nothing was ever good enough. Nothing had stopped his cruel words or his brutality. The words “good girl” hadn’t passed through his lips again.

The door to the dungeon creaked open, snapping her back to the here and now. She knew it would hurt worse if she tensed, but she couldn’t stop herself from holding her body rigid. If only she could just relax and let the pain wash over and pass through her.

“Have you had time to think about your mistake, pet?”
Pet.
The word was such a mockery. An endearment from before, a word that indicated some level of care and affection. And yet there was no care or affection between them. There was only sadism on his part and desperation and fear on hers.

“This slave begs forgiveness. She won’t be bad again.” She couldn’t stop trembling in the chains. No matter how many times this happened, the terror didn’t stop. She kept hoping she’d become desensitized to it, that by some miracle she could learn to hover outside her own body so that whatever damage was done couldn’t touch her but would only touch the body of
that girl
, the one that wasn’t really her. It would be bad enough to just watch. But if she could watch and not
be
, that would be better.

“Are you sure? I feel you should be past the point of breaking dishes when I bring you food. How do I know this isn’t some rebellion on your part?”

She remained silent because it was the smart thing to do. She’d long ago learned that when in doubt, just be silent. Her master loved hearing himself speak. When he wasn’t calling her
pet
or telling her she was a worthless piece of shit, he used the word
you
, as if only when he spoke to her did she have form or life. When she spoke of herself, it was always in third person, as if she were an inanimate object that could not have thoughts or feelings or needs. If she ever spoke the words
me
or
my
or
I
, the punishment was swift and severe. He’d broken her of the habit of seeing herself as a person in the first two weeks.