But Master is happy. I
ha一ve seen him. He laughs and smiles. These reactions are
rare . . . very rare for him.”
Oh.
“You look like me.” Leila changes tack, surprising me,
her eyes seeming to focus on me properly for the first time.
“Master likes obedient ones who look like you and me.
The others, all the same . . . all the same . . . and yet you
sleep in his bed. I saw you.”
Shit! She was in the room. I didn’t imagine it.
“You saw me in his bed?” I whisper.
“I never slept in Master’s bed,” she murmurs. She’s
like a fallen ethereal wraith. Half a person. She looks so
slight, and in spite of the fact that she’s holding a gun, I
suddenly feel overwhelmed with sympathy for her. Her
hands flex around the weapon, and my eyes widen,
threatening to pop from my head.
“Why does Master like us like this? It makes me think
something . . . something . . . Master is dark . . . Master is
a dark man, but I love him.”
No, no, he’s not. I bristle internally. He’s not dark.
He’s a good man, and he’s not in the dark. He’s joined
me in the light. And now she’s here, trying to drag him
back with some warped idea that she loves him.
“Leila, do you want to give me the gun?” I ask softly.
Her hand grips it tightly, and she hugs it to her chest.
“This is mine. It’s all I ha一ve left.” She gently caresses
the gun. “So she can join her love.”
Holy shit! Which love—Christian? It’s like she’s
punched me in the stomach. I know he will be here
momentarily to find out what’s keeping me. Does she
mean to shoot him? The thought is so horrific, I feel my
mean to shoot him? The thought is so horrific, I feel my
throat swell and ache as a huge knot forms there, almost
choking me, matching the fear that’s balled tightly in my
stomach.
Right on cue the door bursts open, and Christian is
standing in the doorway, Taylor behind him.
Glancing at me briefly, Christian’s eyes sweep over me
from head to toe, and I notice the small spark of relief in
his look. But his relief is fleeting as his gaze darts to Leila
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