Day 2 with Girl

Lucas

I bit back a frustrated groan and clenched my hands into fists when I saw the name on the screen of my cell phone. As much as I didn’t want to take my mentor’s call right then, I knew I had to. This, at least, was part of the rules. However, I was afraid of what he would say because I knew if I answered that call I would tell him what was happening.

The girl was driving me insane.

“William,” I answered through gritted teeth.

“How did the day go?” His tone said what I knew he wouldn’t. He was expecting the worst.

“She won’t eat,” I finally admitted and hissed a curse when he laughed. “Yes, laugh at me. That’s what I need instead of a way to figure out how to keep her alive. She hasn’t eaten for two days that I’m aware of, and however much longer from when she was taken and transported.”

I sat roughly on the couch in my home office and ran my free hand over my face. I’d only had her in my care for a day and a half. Even though I had taken her three meals today, she hadn’t once looked at me or touched a bite of food.

I’d tried to force her, I’d tried to coax her, I’d tried to be patient—but my patience had worn out quickly each time her body trembled and quiet songs fell from her lips. At least I had learned one thing today: she sang when scared. It seemed involuntary, but damn it, it was . . . it was endearing.

“It’s only been two days, Lucas. She’ll eat when she gets hungry enough.”

I bit back my automatic response and blew out a calming breath. “Again, that I know. I don’t know how long her transport was.”

I refused to tell him that she’d been unconscious when I received her, and I had been worried she wouldn’t wake at all when she slept through the day and night. Or, when I’d checked her body once she woke, she’d been covered in bruises.

Covered.

Because I knew it wouldn’t matter to William. Knew what he would say.

“What difference do some bruises make? You’re bound to give her more. It cannot matter to you what condition the girl is in. Unless she is dying, let her stay that way.”

“If I recall, it was my fourth who did the very same thing.”

My brows lifted at his unexpected comment. “And what happened?”

“Ah, I almost lost her. I had to call in a doctor who hooked her up to an IV to rehydrate her. I didn’t leave her side for days even after she recovered . . .” His joking tone had disappeared, replaced by a voice I so rarely heard from him that I sat in shock for moments after.

It was full of affection and love, everything we could not feel when it came to the women—and everything he clearly showed for only one of his.

One no one knew, because he wouldn’t allow anyone to know his weakness—her. He never showed favor toward whoever she was, but it was there in his voice. You knew when he talked about her, and you knew he was in love with her, but the mystery remained because he’d never mentioned her name. Knowing she was his fourth didn’t help solve the mystery, since only the first women in a house could ever go by their number.

“You have two options, Lucas,” he continued sharply, and I knew the subject of that woman was over. “You either let her starve herself until you need to get her medical help or you force her.”

“I’ve tried forcing her.”

“No,” he argued, “you have not.”

I lifted my hand then let it fall back to my leg. “Since you haven’t been here to witness it, let me assure you—”

“You can say what you will, I will maintain that you have not. She is your property. She is to do exactly as you say when you say; eventually she will need to learn that. Some of the girls need to be taught immediately who is in control—yours might be one of them.”

I breathed in sharply through my nose when I finally understood what it was he wasn’t saying. “She isn’t ready,” I said gruffly.

“She isn’t, or you aren’t?”

My jaw clenched painfully at his blatant challenge.

“I was wrong thinking you could be brought into this life, Lucas. I thought I saw something—I was wrong.”

I gripped the phone tightly in my hand and threw it across the room when he hung up. Launching myself away from the couch, I paced like a caged animal in my office as adrenaline surged through me and my anger grew.

Anger at the little blackbird in the level above this one for driving me insane and making my mentor question my abilities. Anger at myself for wanting to go easy on her when I knew that was the worst thing I could do for the both of us.

The girl had to be taught. I knew that.

Despite how much the thought made me want to offer up my own name on a bullet, I had to break her. I knew I couldn’t let her turn into what William’s fourth was for him: a weakness.

I stalked toward the doors leading to the rest of the main level of my house, and at the last second, grabbed my tie from the day before that was draped over a chair.