Page 66 of His Toy

“Wait, you’re not serious, are you?” She stood up and crossed her arms. “I’msaferhere? What the fuck? Safer from him, maybe, but damn it, Heather. Let’s just go!”

“I brought his car here.”

“You brought his car here? Wait, that means heletyou come here? You’re screwing him, aren’t you?” She started pacing back and forth like I had seen her do on the screen. “You’re screwing a psychopath. A fucking psychopath, Heather. What the hell is wrong with you?”

My mind went blank, trying to wrap around what Hazel was saying. Usually, it was me lecturing Hazel; what had changed? Was Zaid a psychopath? It didn’t click. He had a flower garden. A house manager that adored him. And Grant was unbelievably loyal. Zaid had a dungeon, sure, but plenty of people got off on pain or being tied up, I was an example. And he may have had a weird cage in his basement, but that could’ve been a silly sex thing at some point, right? Or even for a dog.

“Eric would’ve murdered us if Zaid hadn’t stepped in,” I said.

“And Zaid wasn’t planning on doing the same?” Hazel threw up her hands. “He’s just as bad, Heather. Eric did horrible things to us, things I never want to think of again. But Zaid did too.”

I didn’t believe her. I refused. I had to focus her anger on Eric, the actual enemy. “Didn’t Eric beat you? Hurt you? Abuse you?”

“He’s not the first.” She raised her brows. “At least he let me leave.”

I shook my head. “You have to stay here. I promised I wouldn’t help you escape.”

“Do you hear what you’re saying, Heather?” She pointed at me. “Escape. I’m imprisoned here. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

I sighed. “Eric nearly killed a girl for getting the wrong kind of scotch.”

“And you don’t think Zaid is capable?” Hazel rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a joke. Eric might be bad, but Zaid is just as crazy.”

Zaid had never punished me over something as trivial as the wrong drink. Had he?

“Do you have any idea of what it was like before you found me in that cage?” Heather said. “Has he been brainwashing you these past few days? Weeks? Months? I don’t even know how long it’s been.”

I spoke quickly, trying to get it out before I realized that none of it made sense. “He’s been training me for this revenge scheme. He’ll offer me as a gift to Eric, and I’ll sedate him, then Zaid will—”

“Do you not see the problem with that?” Hazel interrupted. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that Zaid is willing to offer you as a gift? To put you in harm’s way, when he’s trying to claim that he was only saving us? He’s got you under his spell.” Her eyes landed on the collar around my neck. “Ah, shit. He’s collared you too?” She crossed her arms and turned away from me.

My palms were sweating. There was truth to what she said, I knew that, but part of me had a hard time comprehending it. Had everything Zaid said been a trap? A way to fool me? To lie to me in order to convince me of some great plan?

But I knew Zaid. He trusted me. None of what she said was possible.

Was it?

“You don’t understand,” I said.

“He kept us in cages,” she said. “All of us.”

“Us?”

She turned to me sharply. “I know you think you love him,” she grabbed my arms, “I can tell by that look in your eyes. That collar. But he isn’t a man you want to mess with. Ask him what he plans to do with those people.”

“What people?”

“Just ask.” Her eyes pleaded. “He’ll know. Do it for me, Heather. If it’s the last thing you do for me, show me that you believe me.”

I held my breath. Hazel always had a knack for lying about herself. She called it ‘pretending’ or ‘acting’ or whatever buzz-word she came up with. It had only gotten worse in our adult years. It had always been hard to believe her.

But she never lied about someone else. She had no reason to.

And maybe she had a reason to now—to get out of the private clinic room—but my gut clenched with fear. I had searched that house. I had seen every inch. The only cage I had seen was in the basement.

But then the image of a small door, a hatch, surrounded by dirt and grass popped into my mind. The only area of the property I hadn’t explored.

It was nothing, I told myself. Storage. A garage. Not a hole full of cages.