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Sleep was off the menu for the next month, she thought. The voices were too deeply embedded now, and she just knew they would strike when she was weak. Sleeping was when she was most vulnerable.
Shooting her a knowing glance, Saul picked up the waste basket and carried it, along with the soiled washcloth, into the bathroom. “Don’t think you can pretend, Caera. I’m going to sit with you until you actually fall asleep.”
She frowned over at the door. The man was psychic, she was sure of it. “T-That’s not necessary.” She listened to the toilet flush, to water running, and decided she would just fake it now, before he came back.
Making herself comfortable in case he called her bluff, she wiggled into the pillow, managing to snag the blanket and drag it over herself. Closing her eyes, she distracted herself with thoughts of what would happen in a week’s time.
Kissing. Touching.
Sex.
She never heard Saul come out of the bathroom.
*
Sleeping beauty.
Saul rearranged the blanket over her, so it covered more than just her legs. At a guess, her plan to con him into thinking she was sleeping had backfired on her. He’d known she was tired after that vicious purge—it showed in her eyes, on her face, in the set of her body language.
In all honesty, he wasn’t surprised her body reacted that way.
The horrors starting to surface from within her were…deplorable. Heinous.
What kind of monster suggested throwing a four year old girl to the boys as a fucking treat? Saul guaranteed the intention hadn’t been for her to be friends with them. From the snippets of information he’d gotten out of her, someone was into some bad shit.
Illegal shit.
He wanted to drown them in it until their actions choked them.
Testing Caera, he bent down and brushed his lips over her forehead, then whispered, “I changed my mind. Sex sounds really good right now. Think you’re awake enough?”
Nada. Not a suspect flutter of her eyelids, no twitch of her slack mouth, not even an instinctual hitch of her breath. She was under, which meant he needed to be on high alert for her demons in the dark.
Rather than settling into the office to do what he had to, Saul went in and dragged the heavy desk chair into the bedroom, shoving it into the corner. He returned into the office for his laptop, then diverted quickly into the kitchen to get Caera a glass of juice for when she woke up.
With everything in order, he dropped into the chair and just stared at the woman on the bed for a few minutes. Maybe she couldn’t see it yet, but he could. Her cheekbones weren’t quite as prominent. The lines around her mouth and eyes, carved from stress and malnutrition, weren’t as deep.
The bruising under her eyes was no longer dark. The sickly pallor of her skin was healthier, rosier. A dusky bloom that spoke of a consistent sleep pattern, good food, and—maybe it was just wishful thinking—a little dash of happiness.
Hissing between his teeth, he pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and pulled up Connie’s number. Spent yet more time staring at it on the screen, wondering how much it would hurt his friend to realize the depth of Caera’s issues.
Because, God knew, it was hurting him.
His thumb pressed the green button.
“Did we have an appointment scheduled?” The Mistress’s voice sang down the line after just one ring. “I didn’t think we were due until Monday afternoon.”
“I’m sure Caera’s looking forward to it.”
“Saul! You didn’t say hello on Wednesday.”
He sighed. “I’ve been pushing her to pluck up the courage to make the call herself, instead of using me to initiate it. She sat for twenty minutes with the phone in her hand before she finally pushed the goddamn button.”
“But she pushed it herself, which is excellent.” Connie cleared her throat. “I’m presuming you’re not acting in her stead today?”
“No.”
Silence lingered for a few seconds because Connie jumped feet-first into it. “Something happened. Have you finally granted her fondest wish and done something else besides sleep in that bed?”
