Collateral Damage (7 page)

"Always."

"You grew up together?"

His lips twitched. "No. Cyrus has been as he is now as long as I've known him."

The man aged well.
Cyrus didn't look much older than Vince. "Are you related somehow?"

"No."

"Then why are you with him? Why is Alrik?"

"Because we were chosen."

Oh, this is not good. So not good.
"Is Alrik being taught like you were?"

"Pretty much." His eyes grew distant. "But I will spare him some of the lessons I had to learn the hard way." He curved his hand under my chin and stroked my bottom lip with his thumb. "Just as I'll try to spare you."

"That sounds like a very good idea." I stood, brushed his hand away, and then stepped around him. "Can you get out so I can get dressed?"

"Nicole, if you want me to keep you, you shouldn't ask me things like that." He folded his arms over his chest and arched a brow when I crossed my arms over the towel covering mine. "Your body belongs to me. I may punish you for hiding it."

"You'd punish me after what happened tonight?" My gaze flicked to the door. I'd never reach it before him. And I didn't have the strength to try. "Can't you give me some time to—?"

"You don't need time; you need to be trained. By me, or by Cyrus if he decides I can't handle you." He strode forward and then latched onto my nape in a frighteningly possessive way. "And I won't let that happen."

Part of me still rejected the idea of being trained, but deep down, I accepted it would happen one way or another. Another choice—do this willingly and hold on to myself in whatever way I could, or be completely broken by Cyrus. Then discarded.

"If I can be trained . . . I mean . . . will that help me become one of Alrik's teachers?"

"Yes."

"Okay." I gave myself a firm internal nod. I could do this. "Then train me."

His expression softened, and so did his grip on my neck. He wrapped my wet hair loosely around his hand and pulled me into a solid embrace, planting a rewarding kiss on my passive lips. "You will enjoy being mine, Nicole."

Sure. Until Cyrus decides to take me.

"You will go to him when I tell you to." His lips slid down to my throat where he sucked and bit lightly on my flesh. "To please me."

Oh, twisted.
But I could sorta see that being easier. Convince myself pleasing Vince mattered. Play at obedience. Let Cyrus or whoever else fuck me as part of the act.

And, all the while, I'd be figuring out how to get Alrik out of here. Before they turned him into someone like Vince.

Too bad I can't save him, too
.

"We have a lot of work ahead of us," Vince said in a way that told me he'd probably read that last thought. "Your submission will be real. I won't accept any less."

Whatever. "
Can we go see Alrik?"

"Once you're dressed."

Right.
I dropped the towel and then grabbed the panties from the top of the pile of clothes.

He shook his head and held out his hand. "I will dress you, pet."

"Like hell you will." My chin jutted up, even as I internally groaned. I'd volunteered for this. I could deal with him giving me to the other men, but him dressing me was too much.

"I don't expect you to like taking orders. You fought long and hard for your independence." His eyes showed a glimmer of sympathy before they hardened. "But you will learn." He pointed at the sink. "Bend over."

I stepped away from him and the counter. "Why?"

He closed the distance between us, barred his arms across my stomach, and then pushed down on the back of my head until I had to brace my arms on the counter or smash my face. "You know why."

Again? Already?
I rested my forehead on the ledge of the sink and opened my thighs hip-width. My face heated up as warmth trickled out, making my pussy wet and ready. Humiliating, but at least it wouldn't hurt. At least it was Vince.

The click of his belt buckle made my insides clench. A wisp of sliding leather and I had to bite back a groan. Any minute . . . .

"Count for me."

Swish! CRACK!
A stinging thud ripped a scream from my throat. I choked and gasped as I tried to throw myself on the floor.

He gathered my hair in his fist and used it to hold me up. "How many is that?"

He gave me a little shake. "How many?"

"One." I whimpered as he stroked my hair and then ran his hand down my spine and over the blazing flesh of my ass. "But I thought—"

"I was wrong to use pleasure as a punishment. It won't happen again." He patted my butt. "Now, behave, or I will bring you to the arena and chain you so all our guests can witness you being disciplined. And it will be much worse, because they pay to hear you scream."

"Arena?" Shudders raked my body, and my knees almost gave out. "There's an arena here? What happens there?"

Even as I asked, the answer presented itself clearly as a headline in my head.

Those screaming women. They weren't all teachers. According to Cyrus, there were only five of us.

"Let's make sure you never find out." He stepped back. "Are you ready?"

I gulped, folded my arms on the counter, and then lay my head on them. "I'm ready."

"Good. I'll stop at ten if you don't move."

I closed my eyes.

Swish! CRACK!

My hips jumped as I absorbed the pain, but I managed to stay put.

"Two!"

* * * * *

All the way up to the second floor, the throbbing, bruised sensation hobbled me, making each step slow and tentative. I leaned on the doorframe as Vince opened the door to Alrik's room, afraid the sobs I'd held in would break free if I went any farther.

The room looked normal enough. Dark blue carpeting that appeared black beyond the light spilling in from the hall. Pale blue walls. Cars everywhere. Toy cars scattered on the floor, a car print comforter, car motifs on the walls. Above the simple, single bed was a stop sign.

Curled up on the bed, his tiny head peeking out from beneath the blankets, Alrik slept peacefully. He was paler than I liked, and his cheeks were gaunt, but, other than that, he seemed okay.

"Why is he so thin?" I said quietly as Vince crossed the room to retrieve an empty cup from the nightstand. "Don't you feed him?"

Vince didn't speak until he came to my side. "He refused to eat for a while. Cyrus finally found a way to get through to him."

"How?" I dragged my feet as Vince pulled me away from the room and shut the door. It didn't make sense to me that a boy that young would be able to hold out on eating long enough to get that skinny. "And did you bring him to a doctor? How do you know he's not sick?"

"He's perfectly healthy, just very stubborn." Vince gave me a look that said we had that in common. "Cyrus told Alrik he could choose the teachers he liked best from those we'd screened. You were the last. Cyrus spoke to Alrik just before he went out to lure you in. I'm not sure what was said, but, when Alrik joined me in the van, he ate his first meal in days. So it worked."

I was right.
Bile with the consistency of curdled milk filled my stomach and throat.
They are using me to manipulate him.

I put my hand on Vince's arm. "Who are Alrik's parents?"

"None of your business." He grabbed my wrist and towed my away from Alrik's door, further down the hall, away from the stairs. "And God help you if you
ever
bring them up to him. Swear you won't."

"But—"

He slapped me.

Shying away, I tried to pry my wrist from his painful grip. The slap hadn't really hurt—he hadn't put much force behind it—but I was shocked he'd hit me.

"Swear it!"

"I swear!" I sobbed when he jerked me into a room and shoved me toward the bed. He was a monster, worse than Darryl or Cyrus. Unpredictable—almost kind, then inexplicably cruel. I scrambled to the other side of the bed when he reached for me.

"Don't touch me!"

"Nicole . . . ." He let his hand fall and tipped his head back to glare up at the ceiling. "Alrik had a nanny. She asked him about his parents. Just once." Boots scuffing on the carpet, Vince went to the window and then parted the curtains, letting in the moonlight. His features became still in the lunar glow, once again nothing but carved stone. "Cyrus let her kiss Alrik goodnight, then brought her down to the arena. What was left of her once he and Darryl were done . . . ?"

"You're lying." I scraped open the scabs on my palms. "You're trying to scare me."

"If you weren't already scared, you're stupid." Vince eyed my hands and shook his head. "Stay here. I'm getting you something to eat."

"I won't eat."

"Then I will stuff the food down your fucking throat. If I indulge you and your issues, you'll end up dead. And that's not an option."

He left the room and slammed the door behind him. I listened for Alrik, sure the
bang
would wake him.
Nothing
. I scrambled off the bed, crept to the door. But I couldn't force myself to touch the handle. Fine, I could probably get to Alrik's room before Vince came back. I might even make it to the front door with the boy. But then what? Vince would catch me. If I was lucky, he'd just bring me to my room and tell me to stay again.

Maybe he'd use the belt. My butt was sore, but that wasn't much of a deterrent.

However, what Cyrus would do to me . . . yeah, my imagination was all over that. I'd accused Vince of lying, but I knew he wasn't. I didn't understand why he stood by Cyrus considering . . . or maybe I did. If he'd been here his whole life, what else did he know? He planned to train me—maybe I could teach him?

That would definitely improve the odds.

The door creaked open, and I grabbed the blanket, covering myself as Vince entered the room. He didn't look at me as he handed me a tray with a glass of milk and a sandwich on it. A simple sandwich. No big, fancy meal to make everything better. I wanted to hug him.

He pulled off his shirt and tossed it towards the dresser. "Don't ever question me like that again, Nicole. I don't like hitting you."

My fault. Of course.
I rolled my eyes as I ate the sandwich.
If I'd just obey,
everything would be peachy keen. I'd never be smacked around or raped—

The bread and peanut butter clumped up in my throat. I washed it down with the milk. While Vince brought the tray to the dresser, I reclined and plumped up the pillow under my head. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." He sighed and came to lie beside me on the bed. "But you will be."

About a foot separated us, but tension made the distance seem greater. He stared up at the ceiling, and I watched him, wondering if there was any way I could get through to him.

"Why did you bring me up here, Vince?"

He rolled over to face me. "After what happened . . . I didn't think you should be alone."

"Because you slapped me?"
No. That was after.

"That was necessary." His lips drew into a hard line. "But what Cyrus did . . . ."

I held my breath.
Don't get your hopes up!

"He shouldn't have. It taught you nothing."

"Are you saying he was wrong?"

His glare made me shift my gaze to the shadowed wall. He put his hand on my waist and drew me up against him. "I didn't say that."

Eyes shut tight, lashes wet, I nodded. I'd expected too much, too soon.

Vince grunted, and then held me while he tugged the blanket out from beneath us, using it to cover us both. He pressed my head to his chest, his hand splayed over my cheek. "But he was."

It's a start.
Each inhale, each exhale, stuttered in and out as I made myself relax.

Right now, I was where I needed to be with him. I had to believe it.
But this is good. This
is very good.

And an open mind was all I'd ever needed.

Chapter Six

"Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, that can denote me truly. These indeed
seem
, for they are actions that a man might play." I took a gulp from the water bottle Vince handed me and then took a deep breath. "But I have that within which passeth show, these but the trappings and the suits of woe."

Alrik's pencil slipped from his slack hand, rolled off his desk, and then hit the floor with a soft
click.

I jumped, making my chair squeak and startling Alrik awake. He gaped at me as I covered my mouth to smother a sob.

Vince rose smoothly from the chair he'd pulled beside mine and went to pick Alrik up. His tone was light as he carried the boy from the room. "Naptime, buddy.

We'll continue after dinner."

Alone in Cyrus' dark office, I thought back on the week I'd spent failing to get Alrik interested in Shakespeare. Cyrus had told me through Vince I had two weeks to prove myself. For Alrik to choose me. So far I'd tried everything from using sock puppets to act out the parts with the voices that had been so popular in the daycare, to bribing the boy with the sweet treats Vince provided. But Alrik refused to even attempt to sound out the simple words from the small passages I showed him—he just couldn't get into the story. Not that I blamed him.

He was five. He couldn't read. He wasn't going to start with this.

Training with Vince showed much more promise. He'd avoided anything sexual, insisting I needed time to heal after . . . anyway, things were going well. Most of what he taught me seemed like basic rituals. Positions and such. Going through the motions took me away to a peaceful place, where all I had to do was respond to Vince's commands. Where all I wanted was the warm look he gave me that told me I was doing well.

I wanted to be in that place now. Vince told me eventually I'd have to learn to anticipate what was expected of me. That confused me at first—how the hell was I supposed to know what he wanted if he didn't tell me? But then I started to notice the little changes in his expression before he gave instructions. We went through the same routines. When we ate together, I had to wait for him to give me permission before I started. If he left the room, he asked me to kneel when he returned . . . .