Hear Me (7 page)

The table slammed. “Don’t talk about her that way.”

There was silence.

“Okay, brother. Okay. Take it easy. I’m worried about you too. You don’t even know her. What if she’s taking you for a ride?”

“Are you worried she’s trying to swindle me out of my dining tables?” her master asked dryly.

“You and I both know you’re more than a goddamned carpenter.”

“You’re right,” her master said. “I should visit the beach today. Maybe I can walk on water after all.”

“Very funny. What about what she wants? Do you think she wants to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere?”

She held her breath to hear her master’s answer.

Finally he spoke slowly, “Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s standing outside the door. Come in here.” The last was for her.

She stepped out in the doorway, keeping her eyes downcast. Though this time her lowered gaze wasn’t only a symbol of submission but of fear. She didn’t want to know, didn’t want to confirm the suspicion that had gnawed at her since she’d first heard the voice of her master’s brother. Last night… in the dark, he had sounded different. She had thought it was a result of whispering in the night, a result of whatever mood had made him cruel. But if he’d simply been a different person…

“Well, subby?” her master asked, not unkindly. “Do you want to leave here? He’s got a boat tied up just down the beach. You can be on your way to the mainland in a few minutes.”

She shook her head no, vehemently. Daring a glance, she saw her master’s eyes glitter with triumph.

“You heard her,” he said. “She wants to stay.”

“I didn’t hear her at all,” his brother said wryly. “She hasn’t said a word to you?”

She remembered:
When I found you, you spoke to me. You said you wanted to go home.

“We get along just fine,” her master said. “I figure that’s part of being a good Dom—reading the body language of your sub.”

“Right. And you were always the good Dom, weren’t you?” He stood. “I have business to take care of, but I’m not leaving the islands until tonight. You have until then to come to your senses.”

He made to leave but stopped beside her. She could see how she’d mistaken him in the dark. He looked just like his brother: the same height and muscled build. The same strong features, with shadows cut into his cheeks and stubble dotting his jaw.

The difference was that while her master seemed to wear jeans and a plain white T-shirt, and maybe the occasional plaid shirt, his brother wore sleek beige slacks and a sharp polo. While her master had dark hair and darker eyes, Brendan was blond with brown eyes that looked unnaturally light, as if she could see through them. His face had more laugh lines than her master’s, but somehow she wasn’t comforted by his humor.

His lingering gaze made her skin crawl, even beneath the lovely modest dress. Leaning back, he stared at her knees, and in his eyes she saw knowledge that damned them both. “Are those bruises I see? I hope my brother hasn’t been too rough with you.”

After he left the room, her master lifted the hem of her dress to examine her knees. “They are a little black and blue. When did that happen—on the beach?” He looked up into her eyes.

It doesn’t hurt,
she tried to convey. Although she did feel sick to her stomach now.

“I suppose I can’t tell you that you should’ve said something. But you should have. That’s what the safeword was for. You were supposed to snap if it was too much.”

She gestured to the floor behind her but then let her hand fall at her side. There’d be no way to communicate that she’d actually gotten the bruises on the floor. And even if she could say so, she wouldn’t. He could never know what she had done.

Even though she hadn’t had a choice, hadn’t even known it was betrayal at the time, he could never know that his brother had fucked her. She felt sure of it, from the competitive way they treated each other to the possessive way her master looked at her. He wouldn’t have shared her willingly, and he wouldn’t be happy to know it had happened while he slept. 

If she wanted to stay here—and oh, she did—then she would have to keep it a secret. Well that wouldn’t be too hard for her, after all. It was his brother Brendan she was worried about.

“I suppose you wouldn’t say it was too much, would you? Wouldn’t think so after what you’ve been through. Those marks on your body…” He looked at the door where his brother had left. “I’m going out for a walk today. I was planning on taking you, but now I don’t know.”

If he left her here she would be at Brendan’s mercy, and surely he would hurt her again, fuck her again. She shook her head, pleading with her eyes.

“I can’t trust you to tell me when something is wrong out there. You’re safer here.”

I’m not,
she thought fiercely.
I’m not safe here with your brother.

He frowned. “Maybe he’s right about you. About us. I didn’t want to send you off alone with strangers in a uniform. I figured they could do more harm than good, not understanding what you needed. But Brendan’s a Dom too. He can take care of you.”

No. Please no.
Brendan scared her but more than that, she was healing under her master’s hand. Already she felt more able to think for herself, and she was terrified to lose it again.

His expression softened. “It won’t be so bad. He always knows the right thing to say.” He gave her an echo of a smile. “Most people prefer him to me anyway.”

Strangely it was his softening that alarmed her the most, as if he were apologizing for a decision already made.

“Please.” It was a breath of a sound, and it came from her.

His eyes widened a fraction as her word floated on the air between them. Slowly he leaned back in his chair, like a contented cat. “So, subby, you really do want to stay.”

Chapter Six

Apparently going for a walk included chopping down trees. He was a veritable lumberjack, her master. She found it adorable, although she doubted he would appreciate her sentiment. He wouldn’t know, of course. She hadn’t spoken since that one word in the kitchen.

He hadn’t tried to push her to talk more. He hadn’t even made a big deal out of the fact that she had, just went about his preparations for their walk, asking a couple of yes or no questions to which she nodded or shook her head. A weight had lifted. She knew she
could
speak. She just didn’t have to.

Ironically, her speaking seemed to have spurred on his own. He had sat her on a rock uphill so that he could measure and
touch
the trees.

“I don’t do this too often,” he panted, between swinging his ax. “Mostly I have the wood imported. I know that sounds strange, what with all these trees around, but I don’t want to do damage while I’m here. I just take a couple trees for smaller projects. This wood works beautifully for smaller carvings.”

Every thwack of wood resounded around her, through her, creating a strange emphasis to his words. As if there were something important in them—vital.

“The wood I order comes from sustainable farms on the mainland and considering my brother came this way anyway, it wasn’t much trouble for him to include my wood on the way in and my furniture on the way out.”

The tree fell over, swishing through the air and landing with a crash.

“Although now that his business here is over, I guess I’ll need a new plan.”

Suddenly she knew what she needed to ask. “What did he import?”

It was surprising how effortless it was to speak. Her voice sounded low but not hoarse.

He paused then strode quickly up to where she sat. “What did you say?”

She thrilled to see the banked excitement in his eyes, to know that he cared about her and what she had to say, but something heavier weighed on her now. “His shipping business. What does he ship?”

Master cocked his head. “Parts for manufacturing, for building. Once he got to transport a shipload of Maseratis. I think that was the high point. It’s mostly boring stuff. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious…Master.”

His look seared her. “You can call me by name.” He stepped directly in front of her and held out his hand. “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.”

She stared at it curiously, large and calloused and inexplicably familiar. Finally she reached out, and he took her hand and pulled her to him. She was enfolded in his arms, tucked under his chin, and she never wanted to leave.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“…don’t know.”

“Okay,” he said, accepting her words as if it were completely normal not to know her own name. As if
she
were normal.

“Number forty-five,” she mumbled. “Slave forty-five.”

She curled into his embrace, as if she could climb inside him, breathe only his musk, and be the beat of his heart. He smoothed her hair, ran his hands along her arms, still answering her unspoken pleas even though she could speak.

“I know this must be scary for you,” he murmured. “I’m going to help you however I can, but one day you’ll go back. No, shhh, not right now. You don’t have to leave tonight. But we could try to contact someone. Surely there are people who miss you, who want to know that you’re okay. A family.” He paused a beat. “A husband. Can you remember any of it?”

“Can’t… she doesn’t… she doesn’t know.”

The silence was stark then, so complete between them that the faint buzz of a nearby insect intruded. Nothing had fazed him, not the scars on her body, her overly submissive ways, or even her inability to speak. But now he seemed at a loss,
she
was at a loss, unable to even say the word
I
.

I don’t know,
was what she had meant to say, but even in her mind she tripped over it. Like she wasn’t even a person anymore. How much had they taken from her? Too much, now this.

“Subby.” His voice raw, as if he’d been shouting. “Who did this to you?”

She swallowed. “I…I…”

I think it was your brother.

Her memories from her old prison were muted but clear enough to make out faces. She had never seen him there, even though her skin tingled with sick familiarity when he touched her last night. But even if he hadn’t abused her, she suspected he was involved with them. How much shipping industry could there be in a group of islands?

More than that, he had known. He had known that she couldn’t speak, he’d known that she had been trained. All without ever meeting her before.

But she only had to get through today. He would be gone tonight.

“How often does he come? Your…your…Brendan?”

“Maybe every few weeks. Sometimes a couple of months go by. Why?”

“Rather be alone.”
With you.

He squeezed my arm. “I suppose you’re attached to me because I was the one to find you. But you don’t have to worry about my brother. Not all men are like the ones who hurt you.”

She looked down, wishing she could believe it.

“He’s a good guy.” His gaze was off into the trees, far away. “We didn’t used to get along. When we were kids, we were competitive. Even when we grew up, we would keep in touch just trying to one-up the other. Then something… something happened. I want to say it’s all his fault. For a long time I did think so, but I take responsibility for it now.”

He paused, and she thought he wouldn’t continue. She nuzzled her nose into his chest to prompt him. His gaze snapped back to the present, to her, and he smiled slightly. Then it faded.

“We used to Dom together. It was just something we did. There isn’t any excuse for it. It wasn’t that we just shared the girls… we used them. Pushing them harder and farther and longer just because we had something to prove.”

He sighed. “Then I met a woman. We started dating, then she moved in. Pretty soon she was subbing twenty-four seven, like you. I had so much damn pride. Too much. Then I found out she was seeing my brother.”

A small sound escaped her. She had some idea of where this was going now, of the part she had played in this sibling rivalry. It had been bad enough knowing she had betrayed a nameless Master, distant and aloof from herself, but now that he was opening up to her, now that she knew how much harder he would take it…

“We had shared her when we started dating, only once, and I knew that would be the last time. When I found out she was still seeing him, I went a little crazy. I broke up with her. Didn’t even pay attention to the fact that she was totally dependent on me, just kicked her out. She got mugged and killed a few days later.”

He looked down at her, eyes like swirling mercury. “I finally gave up the fight. Moved down here. So my brother won after all. At least that’s what I thought. But her death affected him too. He came down to visit me, saw some of my furniture, and carted it back to the states. This is as close as we’ve ever been.”

A sudden premonition that she would ruin this fragile peace left her cold. Surely she wasn’t important enough to warrant that. She was a piece of trash he found on the beach, not a treasured lover. Not his lovely pet. She shivered.

“We should head back.” Abruptly, he stood, catching me from falling off his lap with a firm grip. “Hey. Don’t worry. Everything will be just fine. You can talk to him at dinner tonight. Who knows? You two might hit it off.”

* * *

The savory smell of the steaks that Brendan had brought simmered in the air. Her mouth watered even as her stomach turned over. She was a bundle of nerves, a mass of fear. If Sam found out that Brendan had fucked her, he wouldn’t only cast her off, he would give her to Brendan.

Maybe worse than that, she had to get through a meal with Brendan. It wasn’t just what he had done to her. She had been hurt before, worse. He didn’t seem especially cruel. There was something about him that made her skin crawl with both wariness and recognition.

She slipped on the dress Sam had laid out for her, a soft purple one that flared out at her hips and ended mid-thigh. She had figured out by now that these clothes had belonged to the woman Sam had loved.

It was only a little bit creepy to wear the clothes of a dead woman. After all, the cell she inhabited had been covered in a gooey metallic substance when she arrived, and it hadn’t taken a genius to figure out what had happened. Any squeamishness she might have had in a former life was long gone.