“Get cleaned up.” He walked to the desk and took a seat. His silver Mac sat on the surface, so he opened it and hit the mousepad with his finger so the screen would light up. “I’ll take care of the flight.”
I expected he’d want to fuck me the second we were behind closed doors. But he hardly looked twice at me, like I was nothing to him. I didn’t get too excited about that. He wouldn’t have traded for me if I didn’t have some use to him. I hadn’t showered since the day that sack was pulled over my head and I was suffocated. I felt dirty in more ways than one, and the idea of a shower made chills run up my spine. “Thank you…”
He was just about to type something when he turned his head to look at me. With an unreadable expression, his features looked like they were carved out of stone.
I realized what I said and just how ridiculous it was. I’d lowered myself to a despicable level, being grateful for the opportunity to bathe like a normal human being. It was something I never should have said, and I wished I could take it back the moment I said it.
Cane continued to stare at me, his gaze cold and expressionless.
I didn’t subject myself to the look any longer and stepped inside the bathroom. I got under the warm water and closed my eyes, finally washing away all the dirt and oil that had accumulated under my fingernails and in the hair on my scalp. And I washed away the worst filth of all—Tristan’s remains.
I scrubbed my skin hard with a sponge, removing all evidence that I’d been touched against my will. But no matter how hard I rubbed, I couldn’t remove the scars and bruises that were now a part of my anatomy. Most of my bruises were purple and blue, and sometimes there was a hint of yellow around the edges. The cuts were scabbed over, except the ones that were constantly reopened by Tristan’s hand—and pocket knife.
I dried off and blow-dried my hair. The second my strands were clean, they felt five times lighter than before. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at my sunken face. I hadn’t been in captivity long, and I already felt thinner.
I was so hungry.
I’d gotten to the point where I was so hungry, I wasn’t even hungry anymore. My stomach constantly growled until it began to cramp up. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep because I was so uncomfortable. But that was nothing compared to being punched in the face then fucked in the ass.
I enjoyed my solitude in the bathroom as long as possible before I had to face my new owner. He may be handsome with a softer side, a complete contrast to Tristan, but I wasn’t stupid.
He was dangerous.
“Get out here.” He must have known I was purposely avoiding him because I was taking so long. “Don’t make me ask you twice.” He had a deeper voice than Tristan did. Even though he didn’t carry a weapon, it seemed like he possessed more power than the other men. After all, Tristan needed him for something. Cane didn’t need him for anything. He could just take his merchandise to another buyer.
I took a deep breath before I opened the door, suspecting Cane would want to fuck me now that I was clean. All I had to do was close off my mind and forget what he was doing to my body. If I just remained calm and thought about something else, like the sound of my favorite music or the waves of the ocean, I could get through it.
I stepped out in the bathrobe I found because I had nothing else to wear. My underwear was days old, and his blazer now rested over the back of his chair. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and that’s when I noticed the room service tray sitting on the desk. The smell of French fries filled the air.
My stomach rumbled in response.
Cane left the desk and pulled out the chair. “Eat, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. It didn’t matter how hungry I was. I didn’t want to hear him talk to me like he owned me. I didn’t want him to be sweet to me like he was a good person.
Cane glared at me. “Would you rather me call you a slave? A bitch? Just shut up and eat.” He walked to the window and placed his hands in his pockets. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
I didn’t move for the food despite my hunger. “You let me shower and eat, and that makes you a good person?”
He shook his head as he looked out the window. “I’m definitely not a good person, sweetheart. You’ll see what I mean soon enough. I suggest you eat. Who knows when you’ll get your next chance.”