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"Good," he grunts.
He pulls me inside, tugging the door shut, cutting off any hope of escape. Not that I had any to begin with. My hope died out so long ago, I wouldn't know the feeling if it slapped me in the face. Dante's arms unwind from me, and I retreat the three feet the small space allows and tuck myself into the corner.
"What the hell is this place?" he hisses, glancing around.
"This is where I sleep."
The horror on his face sends a fresh bolt of embarrassment through me. I shouldn't be ashamed of where I'm sleeping. Hell, the women downstairs would give anything to have this place. I'm safer than they've ever been in the grand scheme of things. I shouldn't care what he thinks, anyway.
His behavior the other night was confusing, but that doesn't mean he isn't hiding a sadistic side. My gut, which I've learned to trust more as the years go by, is telling me he's hiding something. I can’t put my finger on what it might be, though. This all could be an elaborate ruse to gain my trust merely to tear me down later, but for some reason, I don’t think Dante would. It's a strange sensation to feel comfort in someone who, for all intents and purposes, is trying to gain access to the Guild.
"What are you really here for?" The question pops out before I can stop it.
He perches on the edge of my blanket pile. "I have some more questions for you. You don't have a mattress. Or a sleeping pad. How the hell do you live like this?"
My mouth drops open, but I snap it shut before my words get away from me again. He's acting as if we're old pals, catching up after an extended trip abroad instead of virtual strangers with a major power imbalance. Tilting my head, I track his movements.
Who the hell is this guy? I doubt Jenkins would let me delve into Dante’s past. Jenkins may be too wrapped up in moving the rest of headquarters to Rima to even care who this man is, merely out for his money and information.
Searching for details about Dante on my own is a risk I’m not willing to take. I'm monitored like a hawk and punished for any invisible infraction they can find, though it’s been a while since that’s happened.
Dante looks up, running his fingers through his disheveled, black hair. I didn’t realize how dressed down he was tonight, in dark jeans and a dress shirt. The top two buttons are open, revealing the hint of a tattoo.
He raises an eyebrow, glancing at where my eyes are fixed, and I turn away slowly to stare at the door. Grant will be by soon, and I have no idea how he'll react to Dante being in here.
"You shouldn't be here," I say.
"You're mine. Stands to reason whatever belongs to you, now belongs to me." He says it so nonchalantly, I almost miss the words.
I let out a humorless laugh. "Bold of you to assume any of this belongs to me. Also, I'm not yours. That's not how this shit works. If anything, I'm being leased to you until you're bored with me."
He drops his head, fingers flexing as he processes what I've said. The longer we sit here, the more tense I become. Not because of Dante, though. Right now, I'm running the risk of another beating for being late. Or having Jenkins starve me. Or whatever other hell he can think up.
When the silence becomes too much, I push myself up and reach for the door.
"Where are you going?" he asks, exhaustion lining his voice.
"I have to get to work. If I'm late—" I snap my mouth shut. For some reason, whenever I encounter him, I reveal too much.
"Aelia, I saw you last night."
I freeze, then settle back against the wall. Last night I was working the floor again. I have no idea why Jenkins picked now to put me down there. Most of the time he doesn't want me among the clients, calling me his little whore asset, which never made sense since I’ve only slept with one boy.
Yet every once in a while he decides it’s time for me to “know my place.” Jenkins delights in others seeing the complete control he has over me. Or maybe he just likes watching me get harassed. I've been waiting almost ten years for him to finally decide to break me. At first, I thought he held off as a psychological tactic. Now, I'm not so sure.
"Surprised you didn't accost me," I murmur.
There goes my mouth again. Peeking from the corner of my eye, I catch his eye roll. When I first got to the Guild, I made the mistake of talking back. I only did it once. I shudder as the memories I bury deep within my mind surface.
"I wanted to make sure no one else touched you," he growls, possessiveness weaving through his tone.
"Have to protect your investment, I guess," I mutter dejectedly.
He sighs, fixing his dark brown eyes on me. "Tell me what you do for Jenkins and the Guild."
Swallowing hard, I wrap my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees. I lace my fingers together to hide the trembling. Whatever he's after, it's clearly not my body. I chalk up the swooping in my stomach to relief instead of disappointment since there’s no reason I should feel let down. Apathy is the only way I’ve survived this long, and he’s awakening sensations I’ve long since buried. I don’t like it.
I weigh the repercussions of not answering versus not giving my keeper everything he asks. Gazing at Dante, I realize in the extremely short time we've known each other, I’m beginning to trust him.
