Buttons and Shame Read online

  The harshness of his voice brought me back to reality. I wasn’t free at all, but being loaned out to a man who had a business deal with Tristan. Tristan said I was to be returned in thirty-one days.

  In thirty-one days, I would be back in that hellhole.

  Cane continued to touch me even though I didn’t need his guidance. I could see the car right in front of us, and there was nowhere for me to run—unless I jumped off the cliff and into the ocean. And even if I did, I would forfeit my best friend’s life. “Don’t touch me.” I freed myself and kept three feet between us, my hands gripping the jacket like it was the nicest thing I’d ever had. I would trade everything in my bank account just to stay covered like this. I didn’t have any shoes, but the jacket was long enough to cover my ass and the backs of my thighs.

  Cane watched me coldly, no longer looking different from the other men. His green eyes weren’t innocent, and his clenched jaw hid his irritation. He could have easily grabbed me by the back of the neck and thrown me to the ground, but he didn’t.

  It actually made him seem like a good guy.

  He got to the car first and opened the passenger door for me. The windows were tinted completely black so no one would see me inside once the doors were locked. Similar to a shadow blocking out the sun, he stood there like a black cloud.

  I didn’t glance back at the house where I’d been held captive. I didn’t want to look at Tristan’s face ever again, that strong, crooked nose or any other part of his ugly face. Sweat would drip from his forehead and splatter on my face when he fucked me like I was a prostitute in a brothel. My nightmare had been short-lived, but I was seriously screwed up in the head now. If I ever escaped, I would need a serious amount of therapy to set me straight.

  I got into the passenger seat and relished the sound of the closing door. Finally, I was out of Tristan’s reach. He couldn’t shove his cock down my throat and force me to swallow his come as he pointed a loaded gun to my forehead. He couldn’t stab me with a butter knife as he forced me to watch him have dinner while I starved. Cane was a criminal, but he was a much better alternative to the psychopath I left behind.

  Cane got into the car and started the engine. It roared to life and vibrated with power.

  I didn’t look out the window. I just wanted him to drive, to get me the hell out of there. I tightened my arms over my chest and tried not to shiver. A flood of tears burned behind my eyes because I was relieved to leave that nightmare behind. I was scared of where I was going, but I was more scared to stay. I refused to let my tears fall in front of Cane. I quickly learned that men loved to watch me hurt. They loved to see me suffer and beg for mercy. It got them hard in their jeans.

  So I kept all the rage packed deep inside my chest.

  Cane finally hit the gas and drove away.

  Thank god.

  I positioned my body and looked out the window, seeing the beautiful Mediterranean that I always wished I could witness. Now I was looking at it—as a slave. My safety belt wasn’t on because I didn’t care about my safety. If Cane smashed into a building and killed us both, I’d consider myself to be lucky.

  Damn lucky.

  We walked into the hotel room where he’d been staying. Judging by his suitcase in the corner and the t-shirt that hung over the back of the chair, he’d been there for a few days. It was a nice place, definitely luxurious and expensive.

  I knew he was wealthy. I could tell just by the way he moved. Once I became a prisoner, I’d learned to watch people for clues to their behaviors. It was a survivor strategy that I quickly picked up on.

  “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.”

  I’d tested out the waters, and so far, they were pretty murky.
Cane’s true colors hadn’t come to the surface yet. I took up his offer and sat at the desk. I smelled the cheeseburger and fries then stuffed myself. I ate quicker than I ever had before, stuffing my face and feeling my stomach ache in joy once it was full of greasy, fattening food. “Damn…this is so good.” I wasn’t saying that to Cane. It just slipped out because I didn’t care if I was talking to myself.

  I wiped my plate clean, eating every single crumb until only a pool of leftover ketchup sat in the corner. As embarrassing as it sounded, I was tempted to lick it away. I managed to push the plate to the side and wipe my oily fingers on a napkin. Now I wanted to sleep, to recuperate from my week of hell.

  Cane tossed a plastic bag on the desk. “Some clothes. Put them on. We’re leaving.”

  “Do you ever say a full sentence?” He spoke like a caveman, conveying his thoughts in the fewest words possible. It frustrated me when it shouldn’t. This man just put a full meal in my stomach, but I was in the mood to bite the hand that fed me.

  “Interesting. I thought you would be in a better mood now that you’re full. I guess I’ll keep you hungry, then.” He grabbed his laptop and shoved it into his bag before he pulled it over his shoulder.

  I took a look inside and found underwear, jeans, and a t-shirt.

  Cane stopped right in front of me, staring me down with irritation. “Get your ass dressed, or I’ll make you. What’s it gonna be?”

  I didn’t want to push him any further for fear of what he might do. I didn’t want to get naked in front of him, not when I had some of my rights back. So I went into the bathroom and changed. Once I did, I stared at myself in the mirror and couldn’t believe how normal I looked. I touched my face and felt the soft skin now that I’d scrubbed down. I didn’t look like a woman who’d been tortured and beaten. I didn’t look like someone who’d been raped dozens of times. I didn’t look like a slave.

  I looked like me.

  8

  Cane

  “Don’t run.” The taxi pulled up to the terminal. She sat beside me in the back seat, silent like she should be. “If you do, trust me, you’ll regret it.” I’d beat the living shit out of her if she made me. I wasn’t about to get arrested and sent to prison for harboring a victim. Not only would it jeopardize my life, but also my business. Once you went to prison, no one trusted you anymore. No one knew if you carried a wire from the cops.

  “I’m not going to run.” Unlike before, she spoke in a bored voice. Now that we were outside the airport, she flipped a switch. She’d possessed fire and a vicious attitude just thirty minutes ago. Now she was passive, acting exactly like a slave.

  I was surprised she was so accommodating, especially after the treatment she’d just endured. I expected her to scream at the top of her lungs until someone helped her. Honestly, I respected her less for not trying.

  I could never respect someone who gave up.

  There were security guards and cameras everywhere in the airport. There was no better place in the world to make a run for it. I was outnumbered with nowhere to hide. If I ever had a wife someday, I would tell her to scream bloody murder if anyone ever grabbed her.

  We walked into the airport and checked in at security. We made it all the way to the terminal, and she didn’t make a peep. She stared out the enormous window and watched our plane be prepared for takeoff. Now that she was clean with a fresh pair of clothes, she looked exquisite.

  I tried not to stare at her.

  I was eager to have her in my bed, alone in my house where I could do whatever I wanted. This time, I didn’t just want to eat her pussy and come all over her tits. I wanted to stick my huge cock inside her and have her in whatever way I wanted. I wanted to get my money’s worth from Tristan’s deal. I wanted to conquer this beautiful woman and make her completely mine.

  When we boarded the plane, she was just as passive. It was a direct contradiction to her personality. She gave me lip when I fed her and allowed her to shower, but when it really mattered, she didn’t stand up for herself. I spotted at least three different escape routes, and it didn’t seem like she even considered taking one.

  What was wrong with her?

  We took our seats and were in the air within minutes. She sat absolutely still and stared at the seat in front of her. A Disney movie was playing, and she watched it without the sound on.

  Since I was always paranoid about the unexpected, I kept my eyes peeled and my ears open. This woman seemed harmless, but when it came to someone’s need to survive, there was no such thing as harmless. When I met Pearl, she stabbed me without thinking twice about it.

  The thought of my sister-in-law brought on the guilt for what I was doing. I loved Pearl and hated everything she’d endured. What I did was unforgivable, but she forgave me because she loved my brother so much. That was the first time I’d ever seen a true instance of love. It made me wonder if there was hope for all of us out there.

  But now I had my own slave, an innocent woman who’d been taken from her former life. Stripped of all her rights, she was treated no better than livestock. She was starved and beaten, stomped on like dirt.

  And now I was her captor.

  I knew what I was doing was wrong, but that didn’t stop me from doing it. My need to have her outweighed my good conscience. My only justification was the fact that I wasn’t evil like Tristan and the rest of his men. I wouldn’t starve her or make her bleed just for the hell of it.

  Not my style.

  We arrived in Florence a few hours later. I had my car delivered to the parking lot, and after we got inside, we returned to my apartment at the corner of the city. The sun had disappeared, so now the city was dark. Only the lights from windows and sparse streetlights lit the way. My apartment was on the top floor of an old building. Until my new place was ready, it would have to do.

  The second we arrived in Florence, her eyes soaked everything in. Her face was pressed against the car window as she watched the buildings pass. She’d probably never been to Italy, judging by her reaction.

  We entered the gate and walked up to the third story. Fog had settled into the city, so the green hillsides in the distance were nonexistent. I got the key in the lock, and we stepped into my personal space, the place I called home.

  She entered the living room and stood absolutely still, as if she was waiting for permission to touch anything.

  When Pearl first became Crow’s slave, she was adamant about escaping. She fought him tooth and nail, as well as with that fiery attitude. But I didn’t seem to have to worry about this girl. She wasn’t looking for the exits or the knife drawer.

  Annoying.

  “This is my place until the house is ready.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, looking cold in her t-shirt and jeans. “You have another place?”

  “Just bought it. The place is almost furnished.” Seeing my brother live in peace away from the city made me crave the same privacy. I didn’t need a vineyard and olive trees. But I wanted to look out my window and not see a soul for miles.

  I wanted to be alone.

  “Then where will I be staying?”

  “The house.” Maybe she was docile now, but she could change her tune once she was comfortable. Being so close to other neighbors, including the police station just miles away, made her captivity precarious.

  I walked down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. It had a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a large window that had a great view of the cathedral across the street. “This is where you’ll be sleeping.”

  With her arms still over her chest, she walked inside and inspected it. She didn’t give any noticeable reaction to the accommodations. She lowered herself to the edge of the bed and sat down, testing the firmness.

  Anytime I saw her near a bed, there was only one thing on my mind. “The doctor will be here in a second, so don’t get comfortable.”

  “The doctor?” she blurted, her head cocked to the side. She ran her hands up and down her a
rms. “The bruises will go away on their own. No need to worry about them.”

  “I never said I was.” I shut the door and walked back to the entryway. My phone rang in my pocket, so I fished it out. When I saw Crow’s name on the screen, I knew exactly why he was calling. He knew the deal had been made, but there were millions of dollars missing from the account.

  How would I explain that?

  “Hey, I just got back into town. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “You’re back?” my brother asked in surprise. “Why are you back but our bank account is empty?”

  “Don’t worry. The money is coming.”

  “Not worry?” he hissed. “Cane, what the fuck is going on? Bran just told me he’s been instructed to get the shipment ready, but I’m not seeing any funds on my end. So tell me what’s going on before I kill you.”

  The doctor knocked on the door.

  “Crow, chill out, alright? I’ve got it taken care of, so don’t worry.”

  “It doesn’t seem that way. I—”

  “I gotta go.” I hung up on him and switched the phone to silent. “Hey, Dr. Pias. Thanks for stopping by.”

  “Of course. Where is she?”

  “Follow me.” I walked into the spare bedroom where I left her just minutes ago. “Take off your clothes. Dr. Pias is going to examine you.”

  “Examine me for what?” That respectable fire kindled once more.

  “He’s gonna make sure you didn’t get anything from Tristan. Because when I fuck you, I’m not wearing a condom.” I stepped aside so Dr. Pias could set down his bag and get to work. I paid him a lot of money to do this job without sharing my secrets with the world. The privacy was worth every penny.

  Her face immediately paled at the cold way I just spoke about her. Her knees automatically tightened together, and she stiffened once Dr. Pias approached her. “I’m not taking off my clothes or opening my legs for anyone. If you expect to get anything done, you’re going to have to make me.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.” I stormed to the bed and pushed her back until she was flat on the mattress. I pinned her arms above her head and put my weight on her thighs so she had limited mobility in her legs.