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  I didn’t have to wonder long. When I thought she was fast asleep, she surprised me by saying, “I like this.”

  I smiled and on a whisper, I asked, “You like sleeping in bed with me?”

  Seconds passed and once again, I thought she’d fallen back into the abyss. Her voice was weak when she answered, the syllables slurred and breathy as if they were being spoken from a dream.

  “I like that it’s not cold.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Claire

  When I first woke up, I didn’t immediately bother to open my eyes to the darkness. Days on end of waking up to nothing: no sight, no sound. It was enough to make me lazy and slow, to not care about little things like stretching my tired muscles or forcing open my eyes because there was never anything to do and nothing to see.

  I was still tired, but could feel the thrum of more energy in my body and mind. As I pulled away from sleep and became conscious of my waking life, I finally opened my eyes expecting to be locked in my typical cage of absolute black.

  Except, this time, when I opened my eyes, I saw stars.

  Blinking quickly, I didn’t move my body as I brought my eyes into focus and gazed lazily out a large picture window. On the other side of the glass, an entire galaxy could be seen in the distance. There were so many stars that hung in clusters, twinkling and shooting across the sky. I didn’t know if I was hallucinating or dreaming. When I tried to move my arms to rub at my eyes, I felt the weight that was draped over my body and the heat that warmed my back.

  I shot up instantly to look over and find Holland sleeping peacefully beside me. The moon cast just enough light through the window that I could make out the familiar cut of his jaw and the perfect build of his shoulders and chest. Black hair hung haphazardly across his face and made him appear even younger than usual.

  Reaching out to touch him. I stopped before allowing my palm to come in contact with his cheek because it was in that moment that I allowed my eyes to look across the room to see the door that would lead to my freedom.

  My heart stopped and my breath caught in my chest as I stared at the white wood and silver colored knob.

  Glancing between Holland and the door, I was at war with myself and I couldn’t understand why. There should be no question as to what I would do. Freedom was just a few steps away and my captor wasn’t awake to stop me from leaving.

  Slowly I peeled myself out from beneath the blanket that he’d pulled over both of our bodies as we slept. The bottoms of my feet stepped lightly over the plush carpeting in the room as I crept across the space. Reaching the door, I looked back to see that Holland hadn’t moved, that he hadn’t realized I’d left the shelter of his arms. Guilt rode heavily on my thoughts, but I shook the feeling away. It was so quiet I could hear my blood pounding through my veins. I was holding my breath, reaching out to wrap my hand around the cool metal knob.

  I took one steadying breath…

  …and I turned the handle.

  It didn’t budge.

  The door didn’t pop open.

  The hinges didn’t rotate over one another.

  And my heart fell into my feet.

  The breath that hissed out of my body carried with it my disappointment. By the time I broke free of the adrenaline rush that had pushed me to this point, I looked back towards the bed to find Holland staring right at me.

  At first he didn’t speak, didn’t jump up from the bed to wrestle me back down. His eyes were sad…not angry.

  When he sat up, the blanket fell away from his body and I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering over the toned muscles of his abdomen. My gaze lingered for a little too long because it was his words that finally brought my focus back to his face.

  “The key is in the pocket of my jeans.”

  I blinked at the offer. “What?”

  Pointing to his pants where they lay bunched on the floor, he repeated, “The key to the room. It’s in the pocket. If you want out, take it.”

  His words didn’t make sense.

  “You’re just going to let me go?”

  A humorless laugh broke free of his throat and he reached up to run his hand through his already messy hair. By the moonlight, the flex of his bicep was noticeable as he moved and I swallowed down the attraction I would always have for Holland. It didn’t matter what he said or did. I couldn’t deny his beauty.

  “I’m not sure you’ll get very far and I know for a fact I’ll be killed as a result of it, but if you want to leave, the key is in the pocket.” He shrugged his shoulder before scrubbing his hands over his face.

  When he pulled his hands away, gorgeous green eyes stared back at me, illuminated by the soft light of the moon.

  Moving quickly, I grabbed the pants from the floor and hugged them to my chest. I jumped back towards the door. Leaning into the wall, I frantically searched for the key; the entire time bracing myself for when Holland finally realized I wasn’t afraid to leave and moved to stop me.

  He never did.

  Pulling the key from the pocket, I held it in my hand so tight, the metal felt like it would cut into my skin. Turning to unlock the door, his words touched on my thoughts, building a curiosity in me as to exactly what he’d meant.

  Leaning my head against the wood before inserting the key, the curiosity got the better of me. “What do you mean I won’t make it very far and you’ll be killed?”

  He chuckled dejectedly. “I told you before, you have no idea what you’ve been brought into. If you are able to get out of the house before Aiden or Rebecca find you, then where will you go? The police?”

  I nodded without realizing he couldn’t see the motion. When he didn’t respond, I said, “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll be swept under the rug as fast as you can tell them you’ve been abducted.”

  I turned around to stare at him in disbelief. He was lying back on the bed, glancing out the window as he brushed a strand of hair away from his face. He didn’t look at me when he continued, “The society you’ve been brought into is over 100 years old from what I’ve been told. Its members are very wealthy, very influential and affluent men in the state…hell, in the country. The tradition of keeping courtesans has been passed from father to son to grandson and so on. A sophisticated system of abduction, training and sale has been established.” Finally rolling his head over the pillow and in my direction, he peered out at me from beneath a curtain of black lashes. “These men exist in high places, Claire. They have a lot to lose if anything were to expose the society. Safety nets have been put in place to protect them. Crooked cops, even more crooked politicians…you name it.”

  My hand loosened over the key, but not enough to drop it.

  “You’re lying.”

  He looked away again, closing his eyes and swallowing down whatever it was he was feeling. I watched as his Adam’s apple moved along his throat, the moonlight touching and highlighting the stubble on his skin.

  “I’m sorry, Claire. I wish I could tell you that I am.” Staring at the ceiling, he confessed, “We’re both trapped in a world that we’ll never escape; me as a Master and you as a courtesan. It’s not just you that’s been stolen away. I’m only here because of the demands of a fucked up family that holds my future in the palm of its hand.”

  The key fell to the ground.

  I didn’t think he was lying. Sorrow and resentment were evident in his voice, in his confession that, in certain ways, he was as much as a victim as me.

  He sat up again, holding the blanket around his waist. Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he looked up at me and said, “At least it’s not your family that’s hurt you. They’ll be out there looking for you. They’ll mourn you if you don’t return home. Me? My family would kill me if I ever tried to leave. My stepfather has too much riding on me becoming a Master.”

  My mouth wouldn’t move to respond but it was obvious he was angry.

  We stared at each other silently for a few seconds before he asked, “Since you have the
key, can I get my pants back?”

  My eyes narrowed, but then I shook away the fog of my shock and tossed the pants in his direction. Reaching out with one hand, he snatched them out of the air.

  “There has to be a way. Holland, we can get out together, go to the right people together. We can…”

  “We have no hope, Claire. Not right now, at least.”

  Right now? I could have sworn I heard him say right now.

  “Right now?”

  He sighed heavily while pulling on his pants. I’ll admit my breath was stolen from my lungs from the sight of the moonlight touching his body. He was a work of art.

  “I broke some rules when I took you. I’m training to be a Master, Claire. I’m not supposed to keep a courtesan for myself, but when I saw you, when you spoke in front of the class, you were so intelligent and beautiful. I wanted to possess you, to own you…”

  His words trailed off and he dropped his head into his hands. Finally looking back up, he locked his eyes with mine when he said, “I had a member of my family order you.”

  I was so confused by what he was saying. “Order me?”

  “Basically, I’m the reason you were taken. Because of me, because of the order I placed, you’re being trained to be a courtesan.”

  My knees buckled and I had to thank god that the carpet was there to break my fall. Holland was by my side within seconds, reaching out to help me, but I pulled away.

  “How could you?”

  He looked at me for what felt like forever, finally admitting, “If you knew how I felt about you, then you’d know that the proper question is: How could I not?”

  Silence hung heavy with the tension that existed between us. I had no doubt that he was being truthful, that he’d done something horribly stupid and cruel because of what he thought he felt, but that wasn’t enough to excuse it. It wasn’t enough to stifle my rising anger or take away from the desolation I felt inside. A myriad of thoughts swam in my head so thick that I couldn’t distinguish one from another, the confusion so potent that nothing made sense. I was already weak, already struggling to understand and accept what had been done, but the added weight of his confession was enough to crush me. He wasn’t forced to take me. He’d chosen to do so.

  Tears welled in my eyes and I started saying so many things, but the words were knotted up in my throat. Finally recognizing the uselessness of questioning him further, I focused on the situation we were in.

  “You never explained right now.” My words were choked by the lump in my throat. Clearing it, I spoke with more strength. “What did you mean by right now, Holland?”

  He grabbed my hand, wrapping his fingers around it so tightly that I couldn’t pull away. I gave up after several attempts and looked up into his eyes.

  “If we can fool Aiden and if the sale goes through, I can help you escape.”

  My thoughts shifted violently inside me, but mixed within them was a small ray of hope.

  “You would do that for me?” My voice shook with fear.

  Reaching out, he brushed his fingers along my cheek, not breaking eye contact when he answered, “There’s a difference between infatuation and love. I didn’t realize that until these past few days. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t want to force you or …” He paused. “…I don’t want this.”

  I searched his eyes for any sign of a lie, but couldn’t find it.

  Taking a deep breath, I squeezed his hand and rolled back my shoulders having no choice but to accept the only chance I had.

  I was determined to get out of this one way or another.

  When I couldn’t hold that heavy breath any longer, I blew it out and said, “Then teach me to be a courtesan.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Holland

  And there it was.

  It’s amazing how quickly a woman will believe everything you have to say when you mention the word ‘love’. It wasn’t that I thought Claire was desperate for love. It wasn’t that I thought she felt so strongly for me that the confession had caused her heart to flutter in her chest. No, Claire was too smart for that.

  However, it was an admission of an emotion so strong, a credible reason for doing what I’d done, that she could agree that it was a plausible explanation for my behavior.

  It was something she’d been taught in her profession and could accept as truth.

  People do stupid things for love and conversely, bad people do bad things for love. It was something that drove them while stealing away all logical thought. It wasn’t an excuse…but it was an explanation. For somebody like Claire, that’s all she needed.

  Her experience and training in life had made it so that the tried and true methods of breaking a person’s spirit wouldn’t work on her. She could see through the acts, the violence, the sleep deprivation and the humiliation. It wasn’t until she was walking around like a zombie that I even considered the truth of how strong she was.

  Sure, when she was operating on no sleep, she was pliable and willing to go along with whatever because she couldn’t think straight. But I knew that as soon as she was rested, as soon as she had time to regain her senses, she’d be back to what she’d been before:

  Intelligent and nowhere near broken.

  That was the biggest problem with Claire and one Aiden had warned me about when he first started training me.

  It was the reason Aiden was so adamant on full research of a woman before they were stolen away.

  Whereas some would break easily because they’d already been worn down or broken by life itself, others were much more difficult to train. Some women would never accept what had been done to them. Like ticking time bombs waiting to explode, they waited until the opportunity arose for them to escape, for them to break free of their chains.

  Aiden admitted that when that happened, those women were killed. There couldn’t be any loose ends that left the society exposed, no mistakes that could come back and haunt the men who stood to lose everything. He admitted that it was rare for such a thing to occur. Most people, when faced with physical violence and methods used to weaken the mind and body, would snap. They’d begin to care for their captors and even begin to identify with their abusers’ plight. It was natural and explainable. It was the human brain protecting itself from injury by altering its perception of reality.

  When I’d given Claire’s information to Aiden initially, I’d been surprised at how quickly he’d approved it. He wasn’t lying when he asked about her in the hallway on the first night we’d taken her…he’d barely looked at the information I’d provided him.

  It wasn’t that he trusted me.

  Aiden Oliver trusts no one.

  He must have been distracted at the time. Possibly by the issues he was having with Rebecca or maybe by something else entirely. Either way, he agreed to the choice in Claire without considering her profession. Claire was a fighter; that much was clear in her background. Whereas she might bend as gracefully as the branches on the willow tree outside Aiden’s window, she wouldn’t break. Aiden would have known that if he’d paid attention, because I knew that. My arrogance led me to believe that we’d find a way to make it work.

  However, five days into the training and my greatest fear had become that Aiden would kill Claire because she wasn’t breaking easily enough. I couldn’t let that happen. I was desperate because I wanted her for myself.

  So I lied.

  To her.

  To myself.

  And to Aiden.

  It was only by the grace of god that I discovered a way to lie that would convince her to go along with it.

  “Are you sure?” I whispered to her while still holding onto her hand. I refused to let it go, not until I knew for a fact that she wouldn’t change her mind, grab the key and attempt to escape.

  Her eyes darted between my face and the key that lay between us on the carpet. She attempted to pull her hand away again, but I wouldn’t let go until I had my answer. The tension was causing physical pain in
my body together with the lack of trust that she would go along with everything I’d said.

  By the time she finally spoke again, every muscle inside me felt locked into a tight knot, but I found a release from that pain when she answered, “What other options do I have?”

  She had more than she thought actually, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that.

  I didn’t respond, just loosened the death grip my fingers had on her hand. It was a gesture of trust that I was extending to her, hoping like hell that she would return it. Once her hand was free, she reached for the key on the floor, picked it up and spun it around on her palm while staring at it intently. My breath wouldn’t leave my lungs until the moment she looked up at me and offered me the key.

  “What do I have to do?” She asked. “To be a courtesan? Do you think it’s possible to fool Aiden?”

  I smiled. It was possible. I was sure of it.

  “Let’s find out.”

  Standing up, I offered her my hand. She took it without much thought. Her body was still weak from lack of sleep, but she wasn’t on the verge of losing consciousness like she’d been before.

  Using the key that she handed me, I opened the door to the room and led her down the long hallways through the house. It was early in the morning at this point, but the sun hadn’t yet peeked over the horizon from what I could see through the windows of the rooms we passed. This section of the house was normal compared to the area where Claire was first kept; normal bathrooms, normal guestrooms. Besides the bars on the windows, nothing had been put in place to hold a person against their will. By the time a woman was brought to this side of the house, she’d been broken down fully and was ready to be rebuilt.

  To Aiden, it was like perfecting a sculpture. He’d once told me that a Master’s hands were all that was needed to chip away the fractured pieces of a woman’s psyche and replace it with the smooth and perfected mold of a courtesan. A touch of pain could be soothed with a kiss, with the whispered reminder that their beauty was worth more to their owner than all of the regular and boring luxuries in the world. They were reformed to exemplify the power women held in a man’s lust. They were taught the fine art of seduction.