Unbound; The Dominator III Read online

  I came inside her, then, emotion fucking pouring out of my soul at the idea that I might not’ve had this… had something worse happened the night before, had I not been able to save her.

  I collapsed onto her, shutting my eyes tight to try to push away the flood of thoughts about Johnny, lying in a hospital bed, wondering how he could possibly survive without the woman he loved, how he’d face his children. He’d probably blame himself for getting involved in the Fete project; he’d wish he’d put out a hit on Leo Fucking Denarda months back when the bullshit had started.

  Then my mind flashed to that waiter with his gun to Tia’s head, his arm hooked around her throat.

  I rolled to my side, pulled her tighter against me, locking her against my body, burying my face in her hair, which smelled like it was supposed to. It took a while to fall asleep but when I did, I did it grateful to have her in my arms and vowing no one would ever fucking touch her again. I didn’t know how I’d manage that but fuck, I’d die trying to keep her safe.

  Two hours later I had to go beat on my heavy bag because nightmares of Tia under a pile of rubble, her beautiful face crushed, that hair covered in blood, woke me up.

  Angel

  Dare left me alone. I don’t know how long he was gone but I needed to do something. I needed the beach. Our spot. It would help me feel like me again, maybe. If it didn’t work, I’d have to fake an illness or something to get out of being seen by the Kruna leadership team for the rest of the day. I was undone.

  The beach. It’d help.

  I picked my clothing up off the floor and put it back on, and then I brushed my hair and checked the mirror. I didn’t look like me. I looked like her. Felicia. The slave who just beat someone bloody with a dragon’s tail whip.

  I turned away from myself in disgust and walked out of the bathroom and slipped on my flipflops. I felt for my collar to count my three strands. And then I walked out of the room and down the hall. I saw Truly coming out of a room a few doors down. She was wearing a double-strand collar and an emerald green merry widow corset with black thigh-highs and metallic green stilettos .

  “Felicia,” she greeted, a little smile on her mouth.

  “Truly,” I said.

  She slowed.

  “Walk with you?” she asked.

  I was a little surprised.

  “I heard what happened with Cleo,” she whispered, “Bravo.”

  I slow-blinked.

  “I need to warn you about something,” she said very low, her hand covering her mouth.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Are you allowed to come to the slave garden? There’s a corner where we can talk that won’t be picked up by cameras. It’s very important.”

  “Um…”

  She was still talking behind her hand, scratching her cheek to try to guard that her lips were moving.

  “I have about three hours free before I have to get ready for tonight’s party. If there’s any way you can get to me, please do. Your current situation depends on it.” She slipped away down a hall.

  I walked out the door and toward the beach, holding my collar the entire time, feeling the strands, feeling that there were three of them.

  I didn’t go far. I was easily visible from the patio. I sat in the sand right at the lapping water and stared at the water, thinking about what I’d done, thinking about who I used to be, thinking and wondering who I was now.

  I scooped up water and splashed my face. I fell forward on my knees and scooped more water into my hair. And then more. My hair started to go wavy. I sat down and played with a lock of the length of my now curling hair.

  “What the fuck?” Dare’s voice broke me out of a daze.

  I let go of my hair and glanced up at him.

  “I’ve been looking for you. I was ready to tear this fucking place apart!”

  He was mad at me.

  I blinked at him. My mouth opened. Anger radiated from every one of Dare’s pores.

  I lifted my hand and panned it out in front of me, gesturing at the beach, the water. I grabbed my collar and mouthed, “Three.”

  It must have satisfied him, been self-explanatory that I had to come to the one spot here that made me feel something other than dread and felt like I could because I was convinced I had my three-strand collar on, because he took in our surroundings and the anger drained out of his face. He went to his knees in the sand and thrust his fingers into his hair.

  “I was fuckin’ worried sick.”

  “I’m sorry, Master.” I said softly.

  He pulled me against him.

  I buried my face into his throat. I held him tight. Tears threatened. I pushed them away.

  “I don’t wanna be Felicia again.”

  He pulled back to look at me. He looked torn up. Remorseful.

  ”I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want this. I fucked up.”

  “Tell me to be your good girl,” I pleaded, “I’ll be your good girl for the rest of the trip and then maybe I won’t have to be her anymore after this.”

  “I won’t call you that name again. I love you, baby. Fuck, that scared me. You scared me. You okay?”

  He brushed my hair away from my face.

  I nodded.

  “They’re watching. They saw me strut this way, pissed.”

  He had me plastered to him on our knees but he hauled off and slapped my ass really hard. I jolted. He slapped it again and then let me go and aggressively pointed at the sand.

  He laid down and pointed at his stomach.

  “Lay on my belly so we can talk,” he demanded.

  I did.

  “I’m turned on,” I whispered into his stomach, kissing it.

  “That’s good,” he said, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood for beach sex, “I fucked up, baby. I tried to give you what I thought I’d want. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  “Shhh,” I shook my head and gestured toward the spot between my boobs. I was wired. “We’ll talk about that later. I have to get to the slave garden. Can I go see Truly for a few minutes alone?”

  “What?”

  “There’s a Zen garden, a courtyard at the slave quarters and Truly ran into me in the hall and says she has to warn me about something. Says there’s a private spot in the garden.”

  “Truly?”

  “One of the girls. Redhead from the Townsend room the other night.”

  “What could it be?”

  “No idea.”

  “You trust her?’

  “I… I don’t know. She and I were never close. She’s close with a few girls, I heard she was really tight with Lisa back in the day, but Cleo didn’t let anyone be my friend. You know…”

  “I get it. But you gonna be okay?”

  I nodded, “I don’t think I have anything to worry about with her. Unless she’s overheard somehow.”

  “I just had a meeting with some partners. We’ve got the cocktail party in a half an hour where I’ll meet some others. Am I gonna have you with me? They didn’t say.”

  “It’s up to you.”

  “I’ll go alone. You go there then and see what she says. I’ll say you’re in our room.”

  “Okay.”

  “You really okay?”

  “No,” I told him, “But some time alone and this beach helped. Truly got me thinking, too. And what we, you and me are here doing? If that works out, that’ll help, too. A lot.”

  He sat up and pulled me to straddle him. We made out for a little while.

  I wasn’t over what’d happened in that punishment room, a room where I’d been punished in my first few months here. But I had to count my blessings. I had Dare. This place wasn’t my home. I had a home, friends, family, and hopefully once this was over, we’d have helped that task force in their efforts to take Kruna down.

  Back in our room, Dare texted Lisa.

  “Can Angel trust Truly?”

  Lisa had replied instantly.

  “Absolutely. Yes. 200%”

  ***
<
br />   The slave quarters were just the same, a connected maze of several dorm rooms that housed two hundred slaves, twenty per room. It was weird. I’d only been gone a couple months so of course nothing was really different. I was the one who was different.

  There was a girl sitting on the mat that used to be mine and I was right. She was Mr. Delgado’s slave the night before and so she’d obviously replaced me.

  My eyes landed on her and the way she looked at me? She knew. She knew who I was and she knew she was on what used to be my bed. She seemed like she thought of me as a quasi-celebrity, the way I’d thought of Monalisa.

  This dorm room had thin mats with thin blankets and a tiny pillow. These mats were placed around the perimeter of the room. Truly didn’t sleep here. If I recalled correctly, she was one room over from my former room, which would be closer to the garden. I walked past her bed, which she was sitting in, reading a book, and I went outside to the garden, ignoring the others, some of whom had eyes on me or who were whispering.

  I got to the door and I heard someone clapping low. I glanced behind me. Eyes were on me but the clapping stopped. I saw teeth. Smiles?

  I walked out, hearing a few more claps. It wasn’t enough to draw attention, hopefully, but I was getting a little bit of a round of applause. Word traveled fast around here and people were happy to hear about what I’d done to Cleo.

  I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

  If I put myself in their shoes and found out that a former Kruna asset, now married, came back and whipped and broke Cleo for being so awful to her? Yeah, I guess I’d want to clap in applause, too.

  It wasn’t easy to be in my skin at that moment or feeling the guilt, like I was as bad as Cleo, after the fact. But this? This little bit of validation was kind of helpful. I straightened my back and went outside.

  Truly strolled past me quickly and sat at the corner of a koi fountain by the wall. I sat down beside her, but not too close. I looked into the water.

  “This corner, the water, the camera angles? This is one of the few places safe to talk. But not for too long.”

  “Oh,” I kept my eyes on the water.

  “Every slave that leaves to be owned gets a room named after them. When they come back, they’re brought to the room. Their reaction can have consequences. Your former family name was Macleod, wasn’t it? Your father’s name David?”

  My eyes moved to her face.

  “I saw the plaque go up two days ago. They may make up a backstory. It may contain some truth. Be prepared for either.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “I’ve been here ten years. I’ve seen a lot. I’ve seen one of those plaques go up a dozen times. Not every master brings his slave back, but if he does, the slave is taken into a room with her former name. If she reacts poorly, her master finds out that she’s holding onto her old life. I’ve seen masters punish or reject slaves for their reaction. Three were left for re-training after that. Only one of those three was taken back by her master. I would hate to see that happen to you. It seems like you got a good one. I wanted to warn you, so you can steel your emotions, if you still have those old emotions. I’m guessing you do, judging by your eyes when you came back here.”

  I was in shock.

  “Cleo deserved what she got. You deserved this warning. You didn’t deserve to be treated like a pariah while you were here and we didn’t want to do that to you but I’m sure you understand that we did what we had to do.”

  I nodded, “I did understand.”

  “This is my thank you for paying her back just a tiny bit of what she is owed. One of the patrons, Mr. Jackson, he really likes me and he’s due here next month. He likes to watch punishment porn while he fucks. Maybe I can request he play that one so that I can see it. And maybe, if there is a God, one day she’ll get paid a little bit more of what she’s owed.”

  I moistened my lips, “Thank you, Truly. Truly.” I smiled a little.

  I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her so badly that Dare was going to try to take Kruna down. I couldn’t.

  She didn’t respond.

  “I won’t forget this.”

  She smiled and shrugged.

  “It could’ve been you that went with him, you know?” I said, “He asked for a redhead. You’re on the shortlist.”

  “I know,” she smiled sadly, “He’s a good one?”

  I nodded, “So good.”

  “You deserve that.”

  “You do, too.”

  She shrugged, “Someday my prince may come.”

  “I hope so.”

  She got up, “Hope ain’t worth much in here. You know that. Hard not to hope, though, seein’ what you got. Is it true that you’re in the same family as Monalisa?”

  “Yes.”

  “She is the shit.” She smiled fondly, “Tell her hi from me and Lulu.”

  “She is. I’ll tell her.”

  “She never had to see her plaque.” She got to her feet and wandered down to another part of the pond and looked in, “And she never had to come back after her Master died. We’re all happy for her. Can’t sit here too long. We’ll draw attention. If we don’t get to talk again, good luck out there.”

  “We’ll talk again,” I promised. And that was all I could say but I tried to tell her more with my eyes. She smiled a resigned, sad smile.

  I got up and casually wandered the other rooms and then left the slave quarters, smiling at every face that glanced my way.

  I felt for these girls and the couple of men here. I really did. And I prayed that God would help my Master get them freedom.

  I thanked God that Truly gave me that warning. Even if Dare didn’t plan to leave me behind or punish me at how I reacted to seeing my old name on a plaque; it might’ve complicated matters.

  ***

  I typed a very quick note on Dare’s phone, which was in our room, telling him there would be a room named after me and to hide reactions from them, that they’d be measuring my reaction to see if I was being obedient.

  When he came back, after cocktail hour, to fetch me for dinner, he got a shower and then used his phone to call his office to check in. And then I knew by his face that he’d read the message. We’d discussed on the beach that I’d leave a note there to tell him if there was something valuable in my secret discussion with Truly.

  He kissed me, not saying anything about it, and then we got changed and headed to one of the larger private dining rooms, where a meal for all present partners was held.

  ***

  Mr. Chen gave a speech at the start of the dinner, where about twenty people were present, slaves included, stating that all but two partners were there, this year, which was a record year for attendance. He talked about how the event was mostly to celebrate together, and to talk to partners about what the leadership team could do make the club the best it could be.

  He said that through discussions in an earlier meeting, they would be ramping up membership in the coming year, adding another hundred members, which would mean that they would want to recruit more Kruna assets. My stomach churned.

  Many other wives and owned slaves were there with their masters. I recognized a few but not all.

  A few on-site Kruna slaves were at the feet of partners. A few sat in chairs with double-strand collars. I saw a few women on their knees in triple-strand collars, which meant they were owned and still on the floor.

  I was lucky. I was extremely lucky. I counted my blessings at that table, my handsome husband beside me. We were dressed up. I had my own plate of food and didn’t have to rely on him to remember to hand-feed me throughout the meal. I was going to be fine. He was going to make sure of it.

  Cleo, as a trainer, would never sit here. She ate in a staff room for staff members who were previously slaves. She slept in a dorm room slightly better than the slave quarters but she didn’t sleep in a VIP room, in a bed next to a man who loved her, who held her tenderly, who did his best to give her what she needed and who, when he screwe
d up, felt bad, admitted his mistakes, and tried to fix things. She didn’t get to leave to go home after the partner summit, back to a regular place with regular people. And shopping malls. And Starbucks. And feeding ducks. To people who loved her.

  It was definitely better to be me.

  Dare

  This day, this week. I wanted it fucking over. I’d gotten information that day during the meetings where Angel wasn’t with me with her wire, that I’d texted off to the number Zack had given me for the task force. Names, arrival times, possible departure dates, other little tidbits of info from the meetings about the financials. Anything that sounded like it might be valuable. The annual residuals partners were getting from this place? Insane amounts of money. I could not believe the money that was being deposited in a Cayman Islands account for Tommy and me. When this shit was over, if we managed to get things clear, that money would go to help the victims of this fucking place.

  I’d gotten through the rest of the day partly because of the fact that she’d seemed okay at the beach. Okay might be an overstatement, but she’d looked herself, looked so much better than when I’d left her in bed after that punishment room.

  I’d come to our room and found it empty and had nearly lost my shit, no matter who saw it. All sorts of scenarios ran through my head about whether they found the wires, whether Cleo was enacting revenge, whether they knew we weren’t on side and had taken her away from me.

  I’d gone to the dining rooms, the main entrance, and had just stepped outside when I’d seen her. I’d managed to find her before anyone found out I was frantically looking, but people had been on that patio, seeing me storm out toward her, so I’d had to make it look somewhat like I’d been reprimanding her for something.

  She needed our beach. It was good that she’d sought that out to find her center. It was a good sign that just a few hours after that horrific meltdown that she was looking like my girl. Her eyes were expressive, her emotions clear, but despite the sadness, I could see she was my girl.

  I didn’t like that I couldn’t be at her back when she’d gone into the slave quarters, but she needed to do it alone. I didn’t know if it was like stepping into a viper’s den, a place where people who might be jealous of her would be.