Page 66 of Coal Hearts

“I know you have no idea who to trust right now, but...listen to Peter. He’s telling the truth. He’ll take care of you.” Her eyes shadowed as the contents of the syringe emptied into my arm. “And if it will help you trust me, I can tell you I came to this place by the same method as you.” Tossing the needle into a biohazard bin, she ripped off her gloves. “The night before my court date, I got horribly drunk. A handsome man propositioned me, and I figured if I was going to spend the next decade of my life in jail, what was the harm in sleeping with a total stranger? I woke up here. Gifted by the man who’d bedded me to the Master Jeweler in return for a membership into the Jewelry Box.”

She shrugged. “That was eighteen years ago. I served, like you will. But then Victor’s previous doctor died rather suddenly and...I stepped in. He gave me the choice: stay a jewel or become his personal doctor and oversee all the care of his beloved gems.”

Glancing at Peter, she sighed. “I do my best to care for them in every way I can because I’ve been there. I know what it’s like. And I know...regardless of our fight and promises not to give in, you will one day blink and notice years have passed. And the only light in those years was found in the people you now get to call family.”

“I love you,” Peter murmured with so much affection, so much gratitude, my heart pinched. “And we’re all incredibly thankful for your care.”

The moment stretched a little too long before he clapped his hands and shattered it. “On that note, duty calls.” He winked like a playboy. “Sure I can’t interest you ladies in a quick ride before I prepare this beauty for breakfast?”

“Get off with you.” Dr Belford laughed just before her voice lowered. “Wait...do you need anything for the others? Painkillers? Laxatives? Psilocybin?” She threw me a worried look as if she hadn’t meant to mention an illegal substance. “I wasn’t able to smuggle in as much as usual, I’m afraid.”

I frowned as Peter replied, “Anything you can get is gratefully received, you know this. I suppose...for now, we could do with some magic shrooms. I know Ellie had the last tablet yesterday when she had to serve Master T.”

Rose shuddered dramatically. “God, I hate that man. He’s the reason we had to stitch up poor Fiona the other day. Her vagina was split from whatever he used on her.”

“What? Good grief.” I choked on a breath. “H-How can you talk about this so calmly? Some guy raped a girl so badly she needed stitches, and you just—”

“Yes, but she was as high as a fucking kite and felt none of it,” Peter said almost coldly. “I brought her here myself and she was trying to get in my pants the entire time I carried her. She was beside herself with need as the bastard didn’t give her an orgasm.”

His words turned as sharp as his gaze. “We get hurt, Ily. We bleed often. We suffer all the damn time. But that doesn’t mean we have to feel the pain.”

I tried to hide my shudder but wasn’t successful. “This can’t be happening.”

“Believe me, it is. And one day, you’ll beg for a tablet too. By the way, if I catch you spilling our secret, I’ll kill you myself. Do I make myself clear?”

“I would never say anything.” I glared. “But I would also never willingly give up my mental faculties—”

“Tell me, Ily. What’s better? Screaming in agony as some fat bastard rails you while you’re bound and helpless, or moaning in pleasure as you’re transported into euphoria by a drug that’s proven to be an antidepressant and antianxiety all in one? A drug with the power to grant blissful freedom, happy hallucinations, and the unparalleled experiences of giving you the best goddamn sex of your life?” He grabbed his cock through his linen pants, the outline far too easy to see. “Better to scream in pleasure than sob in pain...wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’d say this is all a massive mistake, and I need to get the hell out of here.”

“And I’d say you’re not going anywhere. The day will come when you beg for a taste of psilocybin...not to take the edge off but because you’re so wound up from need that you will do absolutely anything to come. These bastards are only interested in their own release. They don’t care if you shatter or not. But it doesn’t mean your body won’t start to beg.” He chuckled under his breath. “You can wrinkle your nose and fight a gag all you want, but the fact is, we are all sexual beings, and the longer you’re trapped in a sexual hellhole, the more you start to crave it. The debasement erodes something inside us. The whippings and degradations, the touches and commands...it all scrambles your right and wrong.”

I had the sudden, terrible urge to laugh.

It was that or sob my breaking heart out.

Biting my lip, I choked on polarising emotions.

The tiniest, maniacal giggle slipped out.

Peter cocked his head, his dark hair flopping over his perfect forehead. “Go on. There are no secrets between us. What’s got you snickering?”

I let loose a high-pitched laugh and instantly hated myself. Nothing about this was funny. Everything was miserable and despicable. “My ex complained I was a lousy lay. He said a blow-up doll was better. Perhaps no one will want me, and they’ll send me home because I suck so badly.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed on mine. “He said that?” He scowled as if personally offended for me. “Let’s see if he’s right.” Sensuality flowed through his body as he slinked toward me, cupped my cheeks, and pressed the softest, sexiest kiss I’d ever had on my mouth.

What the—

I froze solid.

My heart exploded into flurries.

His tongue dipped inside, and I wrenched back. Breathing hard, I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, my cuff grazing my cheek with harsh reminder. His kiss was nothing like Sam’s or Henri’s. His was kind. Sam’s was lacklustre. Henri’s was...consuming.

Peter studied my eyes before laughing quietly. “Oh, Ily, I hate to tell you, but...beneath all that righteousness and tightly strung warrior, you are flaming, fucking hot for it.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”