Chapter 9

Bram

“Main Master, the bodies are delivered to the holding room awaiting your instruction. Is there anything else you need?”

I took in Lyle—his short black hair, his slightly crooked nose, amongst his handsome features. He had broad shoulders but wasn’t anywhere near my height. He had to have been close to his mid-forties. Choosing him was the wisest thing I could have done. I could trust him, and I would need to as I threw West a glance.

“I want you and a team of men to head to the far west wing. The part that isn’t used anymore. In the very back, you will come across a door. It leads to an abandoned garage and road. Scour every inch and find me something this murdering intruder may have left behind.”

“Yes, Master.”

He bowed his head and turned, taking off at a quick pace. I shut the door, wanting nothing but peace … and silence. I wanted to go over my slave’s kiss again. Watch it replay over and over. What had been in her eyes when she had pulled back and looked at me? Who had she seen when she stared up at me, afterward? Surely not the same man who was standing here now. Not the one that slammed her raped and bruised body on that hospital bed and told her what a madman he was. No … she wouldn’t have expected the monster or the secrets I divulged in those moments. I was losing it. Slipping, with my pent-up frustrations of not having her for myself.

“You look tired and it’s getting pretty late. I’m going to take off to my room. Are you okay? You sure there isn’t anything you need?”

I glanced at West, shaking my head. I couldn’t speak to him right now. Something was going on with him that was throwing red flags. I had learned to trust my intuition long ago and this had nothing to do with the jealousy I felt concerning my slave.

“See you tomorrow, Bram.”

I barely heard the door as it shut behind him. I was already heading toward my computer. Toward the one place that had been a window for me to my slave. I hit the buttons, pulling up Medical. She was curled on the bed, crying. The reality of it hit as I turned up the volume to hear the soft cries.

The nurse was standing at the far side of the room with her back to twenty-four-six-ninety, but I cared nothing about her. Fascination drew me closer to the monitor while I watched my slave’s tiny body shake. A sense of calm settled through and my shoulders lost their stiffness.

Happy or not, nothing mattered except for the fact that we were together now. Her sadness I could deal with. In her absence, I could not.

The door opened and a female doctor walked into the room wearing her designated white scrubs. She held a chart. While she read through it, she came closer to the bed. I went back and forth as I quickly let my fingers work to pull up our moment in the hall on a smaller screen.

“You have some bruising and tearing. Nothing that won’t heal from rest. As for your face …” She finally looked up. The woman’s brow drew in and she sat on the edge of the bed while twenty-four-six-ninety pushed to

sit up. “You’ll need to ice over the next few days to bring down the swelling. Do you think you can stay out of trouble in the meantime?” “Oh … well, yes. My Master …” More sobs.

“Her master is dead. She’s headed to Slave Row.” The nurse came up from behind to address the doctor. She got closer, stopping just a foot from them. “She’s the one I was telling you about,” she whispered.

“I see.”

The women looked between each other and my slave shifted uncomfortably as they did.

“I didn’t kill him. It was a man in a mask. They’re looking for him now. I ...” my slave sniffled, wiping away the tears as fear shadowed her face. It was evident the crying wasn’t over. She looked worse than ever. “I just want to go home,” she sobbed. “I want to wake up and know this was just a dream.”

“Shh,” the doctor said, reaching for her hand. “No more crying.”

The scene had me cocking my head as I watched. Why hadn’t I been aware of this doctor’s caring nature before? Or the nurses, for that matter? This wasn’t what was best for slaves. Slaves were meant to feel like no one. They weren’t supposed to get support from anyone but their masters, and only if the master willed it.

“Look at me,” the doctor continued. “Everything will be okay.”

“No, you don’t understand. Where I’m going in Slave Row, it’s full of rapers. I’m not a virgin. I’ve heard such bad stories. They’ll get me. They’ll be waiting. A guard had his hand cut off because of me. They’re going to want revenge. Maybe even to see me dead. I’m not safe. I’ve been assured that I am, but I can’t be watched at all times. They’ll know when to strike, and when they do, I’m done for.”

The doctor’s eyes cut up to the nurse’s. Both of the women’s anxieties were evident on their faces as they stared silently at each other.

“I know the man you speak of. He’s down the hall.” She took a deep breath. “What is your name?” the doctor whispered.

“Twenty-four-six-ninety.”

“No … your real name.”

More tears. “Everleigh.”

“That’s a beautiful name, Everleigh.” Her hand lifted my slave’s while her other came up to sandwich their embrace. “Listen to me, Everleigh. If men come for you, don’t fight them. I know that sounds horrible, and in other circumstances outside of here, I wouldn’t be telling you this. But this place is unlike any other I’ve ever seen. And like you, I cannot leave. We deal how we must.” She paused. “That’s why I’m going to tell you not to fight. If you fight, they will hit. Rape comes with injuries of its own, but I can help you with those. You may not be so lucky if they beat you again. Men can kill here and get away with it. I can’t help you if you’re dead. Do you understand me? Lay there. Do nothing … not until you’re able to.”

My slave’s nod was full of something I couldn’t even understand.

“We never had this talk,” she said, lowly. “But I am here should you need me.”

The doctor stood, glancing at the nurse who followed. The moment the door shut, my slave opened her hand and her eyes flared. Her fists were under the blanket so fast, I didn’t get a chance to see what she held.