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“What!?!” He backs away from me now, his face draining of color. “No... I would never... I'd never lay a finger on you! Why would you even ask me that, Blaire?”
I drop my gaze to the floor, fighting to shut off.
“I'm sorry...” he says, trying to reign himself in. “I'm not angry with you. I'm just... angry.” He steps up to me but I step back again. “Baby, don't do that. Don't back away from me. I'd never hurt you, I swear it.”
My skin is pricking with anxiety. How can I escape this situation?
“Talk to me, Blaire, please? Tell me what's going on with those marks. Are they all over your back?”
“Can we drop this?” I sound like I'm on the verge of tears, because I am. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“I can't just leave this alone—I won't!”
I glance up at him. He still looks angry as hell, his eyes like blue balls of fire.
“How would Maksim feel if I whipped him like that, hm? Maybe I will, just to show him how much it fucking hurts.”
I don't feel any instincts over Maksim as Charlie says that.
I stare at my feet, shaking a little.
“You know that you're supposed to go back to him soon, don't you? We've only got a week left together.”
Lifting my eyes, I glower at Charlie. “Of course I know that.”
Why does he have to point that out now?
“Do youwant togo back to him?” He reaches for one of my hands but I don't feel his touch.
His question echoes.
Do I want to go back to Maksim?
I'm not sure it's a matter ofwantingto go back to him. It's a matter of knowing I have to. Regardless of how much I want to stay with Charlie, my subconscious works on another level. I'd probably end up returning to Maksim in my sleep if I didn't willingly go in my conscious state.
'Just do your jobs and come home to me', Maksim said. Recalling his order seems to put me back two and a half months. I'm Blaire, my little pet, again.
There's this weird ringing in my ears and it won't go away.
“Blaire?” Charlie gently tugs my hand, trying to grasp my attention.
I nervously scratch the side of my leg with my free hand.
“Do youwant togo back to him?”
“Yes,” I say, though I don't let on that I might miss Charlie. What's the point?
“I don't believe you,” he says softly.
“Why not?” I peer up at him, then I look past him because I cannot stand that intense blue stare of his.
“Because I think you're lying.”
“I'm not,” I say innocently. “I've really come to... I don't know... enjoy being around you, but I've known Maksim longer than I've known myself. My life is with him. It's all I know—it's all I'm allowed to know.”
“He treats you like a dog. You can't possiblywant togo back to that?”
“Yeah, you're right, he does.” For some unknown reason, I get lost in my explanation, in trying to make Charlie understand me. “He beats me for his own pleasure and pets me for mine. I protect him. I work for him. I study, execute jobs, and that is it. I'm not meant for another life—I won't be able to function properly in another life.”
