Master A-0011 (Garden of the Gods #11)

c0369

“ G od, how long do you think this one will last? A day? Two? It’s hideous.”

One of the guards laughed as I was pushed through the front door of an apartment.

“Two days? No way she’s living through the night. Master Eleven was only thinking of one thing when he hit the button and bought her.”

“Murder.”

The word sent chills down my spine, but the guard hadn’t said it in the form of a question. He said it matter-of-factly, as if my fate was cemented in stone. And maybe it was.

“What? Murder? You’re joking.” I turned seeing the taller, dark-haired guard push the other’s shoulder. “She wishes. Food, stupid.”

“Food? Look at her, she’s a freak. What the hell are you talking about, Moore?”

Brown eyes from the shorter, blonde guard narrowed as he took in Moore, whose stare came back to me. There was no amusement or even much emotion on his face.

“Food, Bettis. As in food .”

“Oh, I get it…. because he’s going to eat her alive.” The knowing smile dropped. “Eww, you don’t mean like eat her, sexually, right? That’s just gross. Or do you think he’s into that twisted shit?”

“Are you fucking twelve years old? How did you even make it down here?” The taller guard pointed to the door on the far side of the living room. “Get in the bedroom, crow ? i , and take your position at the back wall.”

“I bet he’s into fucking the slaves to death. I bet tonight he buys the most gorgeous slave there is. That’s who he wants. Not this one. Not for that. This crow must be his fun. Like a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sort of thing but not with sex. A quick, rage kill. I take back my previous statement. Not two days. Definitely tonight. Then he can have all the hot slaves he can dream of.”

“You’re such a moron, Bettis. You know nothing. Ethan O’Brien is not who you think he is.”

I stumbled at the name, barely catching myself as I continued through the living area. To say I was clueless of my fate was stupid. Even secluded for most of the time, I had had months to adjust to the stories whispered through the crow’s cells. Auctions. Torture. Stories that nightmares were made of. But Ethan O’Brien? Hollywood heartthrob, Ethan O’Brien? Hadn’t I seen all of his movies? Hadn’t I had the biggest crush on him, growing up? Ethan…really?

Of course, Ethan. It would make sense. He did have money, and if the rumors were true, the rich were paying to kill us off. But me? Why would he want to kill me?

“I’m not a Moore-on, you are.” The smaller guard laughed at his own joke, making another sound of disgust as I glanced back at them. “I want to go back to guarding the b’s. Look at this one. Her face is bad enough. Do you see the bottom of her neck by her shoulder? There’s a hole there. Or a dip, like a chunk. It’s all scarred up. Like…there’s a piece missing. How are you even still alive?”

I didn’t speak. I was too afraid I’d get beaten. The guard didn’t want my story, he wanted to humiliate me, and he was doing a perfect job. The tears appeared, but I stopped at the cuffs on the ground by the back wall of the bedroom, holding my emotions in as I kept my gaze level with their chest area.

“Hurry up, Bettis, and lock her in. And stop talking. You talk too damn much.”

“Why do I have to do it? I don’t want to get close to it. We’re the same rank. I’m tired of you telling me what to do just because I’m new to the crows.”

“Jesus. Her. She’s a her.” Moore rolled his light eyes, kneeling as he snatched the cuffs from the floor. He latched onto my wrist roughly, flipping my hand over and pausing as he took in the deep scar over my palm. For the first time, his stare rose to mine. He searched my face and an uncertainty flashed. The longer he looked at me, his expression went from angry to…somber…to…unknown. I had no idea what that look was. “What happened to you?”

His movements were slower as he waited. He wrapped the cuff around, buckling it as he kept glancing up.

“Boating accident. I was twelve.”

Bettis leaned forward. “A fucking boat did that to you?”

“No, idiot. Did you not listen to her? A propeller did that. Not the actual boat.”

Bettis’ lip peeled back as Moore started on my other wrist. His agitation was clear as he peeked back up to me.

“Twelve? And you’re how old now? Twenty? Did I see your age right? I’m afraid I didn’t pay attention to your information. I’m just following transport orders.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. I’m twenty.”

“Sad. You should have died. I’m sorry you didn’t. It would have been a better way to go than this.”

My lips parted as he finished up, but he didn’t add any more sympathies as he withdrew a vial from his pocket. Both arms came up, and his finger trailed along my jaw as he softly held my head steady. I was so in tune with him rubbing oil over the expanse of my forehead that I wasn’t sure if I was imagining the touch or just craving something I had never really had in as long as I could remember.

“It’ll be over soon, slave. I hope that helps.”

The two guards turned, and Moore glanced back giving me that strange look just before they disappeared through the door. Attraction? It couldn’t be. As I let his words repeat, it didn’t take long before I felt as if I were floating in a dream. I sat on the floor, and I felt my eyelids grow heavy. My skin even tingled. Time passed as I drifted. So much time. I barely heard the door when it opened and closed again. If it wasn’t for the female giggle, I might have stayed in the blissful nothingness forever. As it was, I could barely get my body to sit up straight before two women around my age swept through the door in see-through blue robes. One had dark hair and tanned skin, with an exotic flare to her features, and the other woman had light brown hair like mine, but hers wasn’t just passed her shoulders or curly. Hers went to the middle of her back, and where I had gray-blue eyes, hers were a dark brown. Both looked like they’d been plucked from a magazine or some big screen movie. It had my face quickly dropping as they entered and stood, staring at me. My knees drew in and I hugged to them as they got closer.

“ Who’s this? ”

Had that been repulsion? Pity? They all sounded the same.

“Don’t worry about her. Both of you have clothes in the closet. Why don’t you grab some and head for the shower.”

A sea of blue floated past as they swept by, but my eyes slowly lifted to the gorgeous man leaned against the frame of the bedroom door. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and his dark green eyes he was famous for were intense. He had a small glass drink in hand, halfway full of amber liquid, and he was staring at me. My heart hit hard into my chest, and I quickly looked down, lowering my head even more so my hair could fall forward and cover the scar.

“Oh my God, did you see her face? What is she even doing here? He bought her too? Or do you think she’s always chained up like that?”

“I don’t know. She scares me.”

“Scares you? Why? She doesn’t scare me. I just don’t want to have to look at her.”

Heat burned my cheeks from the loud whispering in the closet. It shouldn’t have affected me. It wasn’t new, yet I’d never be immune. Years didn’t make it easier, and neither did the multiple surgeries that had helped me get this far, but they didn’t know that. They hadn’t lived my battle or nightmares I harbored inside. A nightmare…that would never end.

“What do you think happened? Could he have done that to her?”

“Ethan? No way. Stop thinking about the girl. Who cares about the scarface. We’re slaves to Ethan O’Brien. Ethan Fucking O’Brien. I can’t believe it’s him. I thought we were going to die tonight. Isn’t that what they said?”

“Die happy, maybe?”

Their giggling had my lips pursing.

Die. Yes. But not them. It would be me, and I was starting to shake so much it was making me sick. Or maybe that was the oil? I couldn’t think straight. Was I their fun like the guard had mentioned? Were they going to kill the freak? Was I their entertainment?

The questions were endless as footsteps headed my way, but I didn’t look up. My Master walked by as he lowered to sit at the bottom of the bed. A minute passed. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move, but I felt his eyes on me. I even lifted my head enough to look through my curls, and I was right. He was staring right at my face. What was he doing? …Waiting to see the scars? Trying to get a good view of them when I lifted?

“Black is sexy but boring. The red will look good on you. Choose that one.”

“Do you really think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll love it.”

Almost immediately, the two women rushed by, still whispering and giggling. A blue robe drifted to the floor not inches from me, and I glanced up, my stare locking as Ethan sprung from the bed. The glass of liquor exploded against the wall at his throw, and he locked his fist in the dark-haired one’s hair, jerking her back with brutal force so he could face her. A loud yelp filled the room, and her smile transitioned to horror as he lifted his hand higher, forcing her nude body to tiptoe through the pull.

“Master? Master!”

Her hands flew up as she tried to grab to the hand that held to her hair. She barely made contact with his wrist when his other hand shot out, gripping her throat. A deep blush flooded her face, spreading and webbing as his hold increased. Her mouth dropped open, and her toes scraped across the floor as he drew her in inches from his glare. It was clear she wasn’t getting oxygen as she raked her nails down the backs of his hands. Terrified eyes bulged as the exotic woman tried thrashing in his hold.

Time.

Flickers of disgust and rage transformed the actor’s face, but they weren’t fake. They were real . They were… terrifying.

“This didn’t take long, did it? I knew by your walk. Not confidence, conceitedness. Entitlement. Vanity. I really, really hate that in a person.”

The other woman scrambled into the bathroom, slamming the door shut, but the Master only had eyes for the woman whose face was turning a deep purple. Her mouth kept gaping through the torturous seconds, and her arms were barely moving to hit against our Master as he dragged it out even longer.

“For the record…I see no beauty in you. I grew up living this. Seeing it in the people I thought I loved. I didn’t love them. I hated them . Every single one. My father. My mother. Girlfriends. Overinflated ego. You think because you’re beautiful, the world owes you. My parents had that mindset too.” His head shook. “It disgusts me. Enrages me .” He moved her closer as her arms tried to lift but couldn’t. “Every part of you is ugly, and before you die, you’re going to see it.”

As fast as he had grabbed her, he dropped her.

The slave’s body hit the ground hard, and she sucked in deep gulps of air, coughing and choking at the same time. It was only when my stare shot up to see Ethan’s eyes back on me that I felt how truly hard I was pressing into the wall. His gaze didn’t leave me as he reached down, dragging the slave by the hair and bringing her inches from my own face.

“Apologize.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I rushed out.

The Master’s brow drew in. “Not you.” He shook the woman. “Apologize!”

A scream came from the bathroom at Ethan’s roar, and I jumped as the slave burst into tears, sobbing in a raspy, hoarse tone.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. Uncuff her.”

Trembling fingers worked at the buckles, and the woman’s face drew in as her stare lifted to mine. She was crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. With the hysterics, her fingers fumbled, seeming to take forever until she got one cuff undone. When the Master brought his other hand back up to trace his fingertips along her throat, she stiffened and cringed, almost appearing not to breathe. The tears still flowed like a faucet, but she was more whimpering through her sobs now.

“Almost there. Focus, slave.”

“I-I’m try-ing.”

The second cuff fell free, and I grew even foggier as I watched him lower to sit behind her. The slave’s body shook through her cries as his arms eased around her biceps, gently pinning them to her side. His head lowered until his mouth was level with her ear, and Ethan’s gaze penetrated mine as he spoke.

“Look at her, slave. Tell me what you see.”

Was he talking to me? Her?

The slave broke down in silent sobs, but not me. I answered him.

“Beauty. Terror. A beautiful fear.”

Nothing. Not approval. Not anger. The Master was stoic as his gaze left my eyes and it swept over my face. His mouth pursed and he turned his face into hers.

“Now, you. What. Do. You. See? ”

Nothing. She just kept crying.

Ethan sunk his teeth into her neck, biting down as blood began to push past his lips. The exotic brunette screamed at the top of her lungs, trying her best to fight. Her legs kicked against me, but she wasn’t able to get ground or break his hold.

“What.” He said, panting as he broke from her neck. “Do you see?”

A high squeal merged with her cries. Her lids opened and her stare jumped up to me quickly, jerking back down.

“I see a-a slave.”

Again, he dove to her neck, this time under the bleeding indentions he’d left behind the first time. His jaw flexed as he bit down even harder, jerking his head to tear her skin open. Blood was pouring from the wound and smeared over his chin. He chewed the chunk of flesh, wrinkling his nose as he spit it out on the floor not feet away.

“Help! Ahhhhhh! Help me!”

“Answer my question before I take my time tearing you apart. What do you see?”

One hand lifted and his fingers buried in her hair, tightening as he leveled her face, forcing her to look at me.

“A…s-slave…who’s scarred.”

“Is she ugly to you?”

Brown eyes came back to mine, and she quickly tried shaking her head.

“Not u-ugly. N-No. Not ugly at all. Pretty but scarred.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“N-No! I swear. I swear. She’s pretty.”

“Do you think she chose to look this way?”

The woman’s mouth opened, only to close as she genuinely took me in through her slightly swollen eyes. Whatever she saw had her breaking down and crying even harder.

“N-No.”

“No,” he repeated. “How long have you been here?”

She sniffled but the sob cut her off. “I’m not sure, Master. A f-few months?”

“And you learned nothing. You saw the gorgeous, famous Ethan O’Brien, and your true self returned as if you’d never been taken. As if you weren’t a slave sold to a killer. Ego replaced rationality, and all you saw was an illusion. Do you see now?”

He hugged to her with one arm even tighter, closing his eyes as he dropped his head and rubbed his face against the opened wound that was close to her collarbone. The slave’s body shook through her terrified cry. An elongated groan mixed with a whimper, and she kept trying to wiggle and pull from his hold.

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be.”

Ethan opened his eyes, looking back at me. Blood was covering half of his face, and still he went back nuzzling the wound and licking his lips, but his gaze never left me. “What is your name?”

“Three-sixty-nine, Master.”

He paused, his stare narrowing.

“Your real name.”

“If I could ask. If I….”

My words tumbled all over themselves as I trembled harder. My ears were ringing from the screams. Almost as if the slave’s had awoken my own. My name…No. I didn’t want to say it.

“What?”

“Can you just call me slave?”

“No name?”

“Please, no.”

Moments passed and his head lifted from her neck as he studied my expressions.

“For now. Next time I ask, you will answer. Go into the kitchen, slave. Grab a knife and come back and take your place.”

“A knife?” The woman tried fighting against Ethan, but she didn’t stand a chance against his powerful hold. She was screaming again, trying to twist and thrash in his arms, and me…I was jumping up and running. I was obeying. It wasn’t me that was going to die tonight. It wasn’t me.