Chapter 10

Damien

I see the struggle. It’s plain as day on her face, but she never stops working through it.

It’s a lot to ask of her. Trusting a stranger is never easy. But I’m more than a stanger; I’m her captor. She doesn’t know what I’m here to do, at least not really. And until I can tell her without putting both of us in danger, this is the role I must take on.

“Thank you.” I take a breath, steadying the nervousness churning in my stomach. I don’t know what I would’ve done if her response had been something other than what it was.

“Now what?” she asks, her shoulders slumped forward from the tension she let go of moments ago. I’ve never seen so much fire in a person, let alone someone in her position.

“I have a couple of questions, if that’s okay,” I lean forward, wanting to be closer to her. She steps toward me and sits down in the opposite chair, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her mile-long legs.

My eyes are once again coveting her creamy flesh. Fuck, I swear internally, once again reminding myself of how wrong it is to let myself see her as something I can have.

Because I can’t have her.

And the reasons behind that simple fact doesn’t just have to do with how she entered my life.

“How did this happen to you?”

She looks at me like I’ve grown three heads; the question, while a hard one, is one she’s eventually going to have to answer when all of this is over.

“My stepfather, Miguel,” she explains, tucking her long blond hair behind her ear. “He sold me.”

“Are you serious?”

“To say he doesn’t like me isn’t the way I would put it. More like hate. He hates me, and it isn’t surprising he did this to me. I should have seen it coming; in fact, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” I can’t tell if she’s joking or not, but the pain laced in her voice tells me there is a lot of pain in her past. My heart beats against my ribs with so much force I want to reach for her and help her forget everything about her life before this moment.

“It shouldn’t have happened at all. He’s supposed to be a fucking father to you, not a monster,” I argue, hoping like hell she knows not all men are like her stepfather and I am grateful for my own father. “What about your mother and your real father? Where are they?”

“I don’t know who my real father is. My mother never told me who he was, and every time I asked, she would insist Miguel was the only father I should care about. He’s the only father I’ve ever known.” She pauses a moment and stares off into the room. “And my mother, she’s back at home with my brothers and sisters.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I’m not sure. It happened in front of her, and she didn’t do anything to stop it. So, I don’t know how I feel about her anymore.”

“What do you mean, it happened in front of her?” I can’t breathe without wanting to find her parents and rip them limb from limb. “Was she part of the plan to sell you?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure he threatened her if she didn’t go along with it He does that a lot. Sometimes I wish she would take that iron skillet of hers and bash him over the head with it.” She shrugs her shoulders like it’s not a big deal. But I know better. It is a big deal, and I wonder why her mother hasn’t done exactly that. “I miss Isa, my youngest sister. She was the only good thing about my life back home. I doubt the others miss me, but I know Isa does.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s six, no, seven now. It was her birthday last month.” She grows quiet and hangs her head. “I was going to make her a cake to celebrate. Miguel wasn’t going to be home, so he couldn’t ruin it.”

“I’m sorry.” I lick my lips and swallow hard. “Is it safe to say you wouldn’t go back if you ever got the chance?”

She shakes her head and looks up at me. Her blue eyes are clouded with confusion and fear. “It’s not safe. If I showed up, Miguel would be pissed, and he’d probably sell me off again.”

“He would?”

“I told you he hates me.” She pauses before looking away again. “Is that a possibility? Are you going to send me home?”

“Absolutely not. But there will come a day you’ll get to choose what path you want to travel. If going home was something you wanted, I’d make sure it was an option.”

“It’s not. I can never go home. Not while Miguel is alive.”

“What about your sister?”

“As much as I wish I could, I can’t help her. Hell, I can’t even help myself.”

“But I could help her.” Her eyes focus on me, but not in a good way.

“Is that your thing? Little girls?”

“No, Penny—”

“Why else would you offer to help my sister?”

“Because I generally want to help.” I run my hand through my hair, feeling frustrated with her. “I told you I’m not a threat to you, and that extends to your family. Except Miguel. Him I wouldn’t mind hurting. No, I want to fucking kill him.”

She sits back. Her wide eyes are filled with curiosity but also caution. She won’t argue he deserves to draw his last breath, but I don’t think anyone she’s told her story to reacted the way I have.

I look away, needing to place some space between us. I almost slipped and revealed more of who I really am than was safe. It’s happening more and more often. The longer I’m around her, the more comfortable she becomes, even the times when she doesn’t trust me completely still.