The Slave (44 page)

Somehow, her exhaustion and despair overcame
her aches and she slept again. It was a struggle, a twitching of
consciousness that kept her wavering from a near dream state to
painful wakefulness and then back again.

“
You have to understand, Robin, that this
is an experience that will make a mockery of everything you have
ever believed in,” Chris was saying to her. A
nother lecture, this one after a grueling
drill session in behavior and situational problem solving.
“Liberty, justice, equality―these are all denied a slave. You will
lose every right that you have been taught to believe belongs to
you from birth, especially the right to pursue happiness. Your
owners can do what they like to you for any reason, and your only
alternative is to end the relationship, to quit and go on home. And
the price for doing that is losing everything.”

“
I understand,” she
replied.

“
No you don’t,” Chris said. He looked
somber, and for one moment, a touch of sadness landed in his eyes.
“But you will.”

I do, I do,
Robin cried out, grabbing for
his knee
. I
understand now, make it all go back, make it right, I understand
now!
But he
dwindled, and then vanished, and his voice kept going, a Cheshire
cat of a man, she thought
. I am crazy at last, hearing people who are not
here. Hearing things I heard a year and a half ago.

“
... been here since?”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
There is a brown leather bag in my
car. Fetch it, and bring me a wet towel and a comb.”

Damn, but it sounded like Chris.

Chris
!

Robin struggled awake again, and groaned.
Being in that half conscious state was far preferable to being
fully aware. Now, in addition to the pain of her beating, she was
stiff from lying on the hard floor for so long. She also felt dirty
and was aware of her own smell. She opened her eyes, this time both
of them, and saw a black engineer boot by her face. Tentatively,
she reached for it, and felt the smooth leather under her
fingers.

“
Hello, Robin.”

Even as relief poured through her, shame
followed, and Robin brought her hand up to her mouth and bit her
own finger, feeling still more hot tears squeezing their way from
her eyes. Chris Parker bent down next to her and put one hand on
her shoulder, but suddenly she didn’t want him there. Didn’t want
him to see her like this, to witness her humiliation in this
fashion. But he was real, and didn’t vanish as conveniently as his
phantom had. Instead, he put one hand under her other shoulder and
began to lift. She made a sound of protest, but went with him,
until she was sitting up, her back against a huge bag of birdseed.
She tried to keep her eyes down, but couldn’t help glancing up into
his face.

He looked different. He had allowed his
beard to grow in at last, and although she liked smooth cheeks, it
did suit him. He was wearing a white business shirt with the
sleeves folded carefully up to his biceps, and she could swear that
the flames that had been licking at her body were all over his arms
as well. She blinked, and dust and tears made her vision a foggy
haze. She tried to look up into his eyes, but they were hidden by
sunglasses.

Raul appeared at the shed door with the
items Chris had sent him for, and Chris briskly took them and made
a dismissive gesture. “Tell your masters that I will be in
contact.”

“
Yes, sir.”

Chris looked toward Robin again and sighed.
“All right, girl, let’s get you out of here.”

She kept silent as he wiped her down with
the towel. In the brown bag was a pair of her jeans and a T-shirt,
and a long sleeved blouse, plus her old sneakers. Chris also had a
bottle of water and aspirin, which she took eagerly. The water
tasted sweet and wonderful, and for a moment, almost seemed to
banish the steady, throbbing pains that still wracked her body.

Getting dressed was a slow and irritating
maneuver. She’d barely worn long pants since she had been sold. The
sneakers felt strange, absurdly soft around her feet. But when
Chris pulled her up, she was grateful for the softness.

He helped her out of the shed, taking her
arm like any gentleman walking an injured lady. There was a
gleaming Lincoln parked at the top of the drive, and he led her to
the back seat and pushed her gently down, to lie on her side. She
didn’t know how long it was until he returned to hop into the
driver’s seat and take off, and she didn’t know where he was taking
her. But the hum of the engine and the velvety softness of the seat
beneath her cheek lulled her back to sleep.

Perhaps, she thought, as she drifted off,
this is all still a dream.

* * * *

“
I didn’t do it, sir,” Robin finally
said. It was such a relief to get that line out at last! She winced
as the doctor coated another cut, but really didn’t mind the
sensation. Hell, after the actual beating and lying on a floor for
a day and then some, these minor stings and prickles were almost
pleasurable.

“
That’s a problem,” Chris answered. He
was sitting in a hard backed chair, taken from the desk in the
outer room of the suite. Robin was lying on her stomach on the bed,
towels underneath her, while the gentle doctor, who had already
given her a shot and treated her black eye, was busy checking to
make sure that her cuts were clean and healing normally. He had
actually chuckled when he’d seen her.

“
This is nothing,” he had said, waving
a hand over her body. “Just a few nicks and scratches!”

“
Good,” Chris had replied. “Then it
shouldn’t take too much of your time.” About the only thing the
doctor actually grumbled about was finding several splinters. After
removing them, he had cursed owners who didn’t maintain proper
equipment.

“
Damn idiots. Didn’t their fathers
ever tell ’em, ‘right tool for the right job?’ What did they use,
dowels? Tsk, tsk. And there’s such a good quality of rattan coming
in these days, too. Not to mention all these plastics they’re
always coming up with. And they’re so easy to keep
clean!”

But after that, he fell silent and bent to
the task, tsking once in a while. He was almost finished when Chris
came in to sit down and look Robin in the eye. Now, he sighed and
tapped one finger against his leg.

“
Who did it then?” he
asked.

“
I don’t know!”

“
Keep calm. Remember who you’re
talking to here.” Robin nodded and cast her eyes down. “Now think.
Who had access to the earrings? And why would they hide them in
your office?”

Robin thought for a moment. “Almost anyone
could have been in that room,” she finally said. “Probably, we all
were at one time or another that weekend. But they had to disappear
between midnight on Saturday and eight on Sunday morning, because
Eve said that she’d seen them the night before.”

“
Meaning?”

“
That someone snuck into the guest
room while they were asleep. It’s not that hard. The door wouldn’t
have been locked, and we all know our way around those rooms in the
dark.”

“
I would suppose so.” Chris leaned
back and looked over her shoulder. “Finished?”

“
All done. I’m leaving some
antibiotics, but the infection is very light, I wouldn’t worry.
Nicks and scratches, that’s all. Ice to relieve the swelling on
that shiner, and try not to do any hiking until the cuts on the
feet heal. Take aspirin or something over the counter for the pain,
unless she’s supposed to feel it. Otherwise, she’s ready to go back
to work.” He took his gloves off with two snaps. “I send my
bill....?”

“
To them. Thank you for coming.” Chris
saw the doctor out, leaving Robin to stew for a few minutes. When
he came back, he took the same seat and looked at her
expectantly.

“
I don’t know what to say,” she said
softly.

“
Well, you’d better think of
something. I think you realize what’s at stake.”

“
But it’s not fair! I didn’t do it!
The evidence is circumstantial! How can they just punish someone
like this over circumstantial evidence?” Robin bit her lip and
guiltily added, “Sir.”

“
I don’t recall ever
suggesting that fairness came into the owner/slave equation. Your
owners could have done this to you any time they wanted to. Every
Saturday night if it amused them sufficiently.” Chris folded his
hands, and Robin thought
, that’s another strange thing about him.
He’s not smoking. He really did quit.

He continued. “Of course, the real issue
here is not your physical punishment, but the fact that Eric wants
your contract declared violated and you tossed out of the
Marketplace. Now unless you have some suggestion for me concerning
how to convince him that you are not a thief, or to prove to him
who was the real thief, you are about to be in some very serious
trouble.” He paused and rubbed his forehead. “Let’s start with the
most obvious question. Is there anyone in the house who would
benefit from your removal?”

Robin blinked. “Do you mean that the
earrings might have been deliberately planted to get rid of
me?”

“
That would appear to be the case.
Don’t you agree?”

She lowered her eyes and thought, ignoring
the itchy feeling along her “nicks and scratches.” It did make
sense, but no one in the house would benefit directly from her
absence. Jimmy wasn’t perplexed by her presence anymore; he even
enjoyed having his own personal gift shopper available. Raul was
the chief of slaves, he had no beef with her. And although she had
stopped sleeping with Carl, it was by mutual arrangement, and
besides, Carl was already Jimmy’s favorite, so he had nothing
further to gain. And Jeff was nothing; what could he possibly
have...

She looked up and her mouth dropped open in
shock and anger.

“
It’s that little punk, isn’t it?”
Chris asked casually. “The houseboy.”

“
Yes,” Robin whispered. “It would have to
be. But... why?” She thought about it some more. Jeff alone had not
gotten comfortable with Robin, not even in the length of time she
had been there. Jeff had renewed his own contract just a month ago,
and there had been a state of some tension, as though he had been
expecting to somehow move up in rank. But he remained what he had
always been―the fuck-hole, the toy who couldn’t be trusted with
important tasks, the pet and the lowest-ranking slave.

And even though Robin never personally
used or abused him for her own purposes, she had never objected to
the times when Carl encouraged her to make use of Jeff’s body or
mouth.

But those times had been rare, and had
mostly ended. The most she ever saw of Jeff was when he was
emptying her trash basket or sucking someone off in the corner.

But if she were gone, he wouldn’t rise in
ranking, he’d still be the lowest boy there. It made no real sense.
Slowly, she explained the situation at the house to Chris. He
nodded from time to time, and gently encouraged her to tell him
everything. And when she was finished, she added, “But I can’t see
any way to prove anything. I mean, if my case is based on
circumstantial evidence, then my case against him is based on pure
fantasy. There really is no clear motive for him to do it.”

“
Life,” Chris said as he got up,
“rarely meets expectations. Criminals don’t always have sensible
motivations. But nevertheless, your observations have given me some
food for thought. Stay here.” He stretched and glanced at his
watch. “I will be out for some hours. Take your medication, and, if
you get hungry, order some food and charge it to the room. If it
will help you fall asleep, you may watch television.”

“
Thank you, sir.” She watched him
leave, and then stared out the window. In time, she actually did
get hungry, and had some soup and a sandwich while she caught up on
the world by watching CNN and a little MTV. She didn’t recognize
half the bands. Then, she took more aspirin, slipped between the
soft white sheets and pulled pillows around her for comfort and
slept, feeling like a princess.

She was surprised when she woke up and saw
the digital clock by the bed reading ten thirty. She hadn’t slept
this late in ages! She pushed herself up, and felt the twinges of
the few really bad cuts, but sighed as she realized that she felt
one hundred percent better than she had yesterday morning. In fact,
her whole recovery seemed somewhat vague and shadowy already,
something she felt grateful about. She got out of bed and showered,
and was surprised to see that the only razor in the bathroom was an
old-fashioned straight edge. Had she never seen Chris shave? Why,
no, she hadn’t. He’d always gone into the bathroom in the master
bedroom, and she was never allowed to follow him in there.

Hmm. Well, it suited him. It was also
useless to her. She knew better than to experiment with it, and she
could live without a shave for one more day. There was just a light
dotting of short hairs where she normally shaved on her cunt. Her
legs she kept clear with wax. But after one experiment with getting
a bikini waxing, she decided it was worth the extra effort with a
razor.

Besides, she wasn’t sure if it was going to
matter. In the mirror, her face looked horrible. On TV, people who
got into fights were often shown with only a little bruising and
maybe a piece of white tape on their face the next day. By the
third, they were all healed. But her bruises looked frightening,
dark-colored and misshapen. And the cuts from the stakes looked
terrible too, with little black marks where every line crossed
another and some more where the tips hit. It was hard to look at
them. Each one seemed to throb from an individual memory of
pain.