Page 7

CHAPTER

SIX

Paigelynn

The sunlight burns for a moment.

A delicious burn.

For too long, I’ve been trapped indoors, or underground, forced to stay put wherever they order me. The ankle bracelet is bad enough, as if I’m some sort of dangerous criminal, and who can sleep like that?

For whatever reason, this morning after I ate – and I had to eat everything on my tray, including some overripe raspberries I would normally toss out – my morning shift caregiver, Luis, told me I was allowed outside.

“To keep you healthy,” he said, which were four out of the five words he said to me, total.

The fifth was his name.

The doors close behind me, pneumatic and automated, a breeze tickling my cheeks as my eyes adjust.

“Where are we?” I ask Luis but when I turn around to ask, he is gone, slipped back inside, obeying orders.

I am alone.

Completely alone for the first time in far too long.

Dressed in loose pink knit pants, a zippered pink hoodie, white cotton socks and comfortable baby blue running shoes, I move slowly, gingerly, because this feels like a fever dream. Surreal and unreal, it’s as if my body is someone else’s robot, programmed to move and touch and shift.

I smell salt water. I feel sunlight. I touch the wind – or, rather, it touches me. I hear birds in the distance, loud and then soft, as if they glide on the wind.

We’re close to the ocean.

I’m in a neat courtyard, a large marble fountain in the center, thick bushes trimmed around the perimeter, about my height. A small black iron gate is on the other side of the marble fountain, bisecting the shrubbery.

I sense the coastline is behind it.

Which means there's no use trying to escape unless my goal is to drown myself.

My gait falters, the heavy ankle bracelet making it awkward to walk, but I find a slow rhythm within a few steps. Gratitude floods me, a sick yet joyful feeling. When you’re in constant pain and fear, any moment of reprieve is worth being grateful for.

Even if the people harming me are the ones providing the relief.

I tip my head up to the sun and close my eyes, taking the deepest breaths I can. My ribcage is nothing but steel bones, barely moving. Fear turns muscles into stone. The Mother taught me that. My future husband needed a wife who was not fearful, but who –

Right.

None of that was real.

The training invades my thoughts, slipping into my consciousness without words, feelings and images and pictures that infect me. It’s a disease, something injected into me, all those lessons The Mother administered nothing more than a contagion she put in me to take over my mind.

It was never enough to have my body.

They want it all. Every drop. Every inch. Every neuron.

They drink my fear.

They are salvagers. Gleaners. But instead of rejecting the parts they don’t need, they take and they take and they take because they can. They kill and consume and throw away without regard for anything but their own craven needs.

No. Not just needs. Wants. Desires. Impulses.

Everything is a whim.

I’m just a trivial bit of damage to them.

It really has been a game for them. A deadly game.

One I have to play now, too.

“Paigelynn,” a man says behind me, my breath halting, eyes flying open, the glare of the sun so much I lose my balance. Foolishly, I forgot that of course they would send someone to monitor me, but when I feel his hands on my shoulders, helping to hold me up, I inhale sharply and smell him.

Cam.

I make a small, strangled sound that sends vibrations from my throat into the back of my head, his touch both soothing and terrifying. Within seconds, he releases me and I’m stable again, my arms wrapping about my torso, the sun now behind his head, creating a halo around his dark hair.

“Sorry I scared you.”

“I’m already scared. You just startled me.”

He frowns at my words, as if he’s showing me empathy, and it almost cracks me in half. Every feeling you can imagine stirs inside me about this man. I want so desperately to believe that he cares about me.

That’s my biggest weakness.

“I apologize for that. You looked so radiant. So free.”

I wiggle my ankle bracelet. “I’m hardly free.”

He stares at me. I can tell I’m not playing his game, the bitterness loud and clear in my voice. Why bother pretending?

“How are you doing?”

“Me? I’m great. This is a lovely resort you brought me to. Five stars.”

He barks out a laugh, a sound of surprise, then he really stares at me, as if I’ve impressed him.

“Can we walk to the shoreline? It’ll be more private there.”

“I’m sure my anklet records everything we do.”

“They can’t control for the sound of the waves,” he murmurs in my ear as his hand goes to the small of my back, guiding me. Rippling heat spreads up my spine from his touch. When I take a deep breath and lurch forward, he remains steady, palm flat on my back, the rest of him hovering over me.

I’m his billion-dollar bitch.

He needs to protect the merchandise.

No, I didn’t come up with that term. I heard Luis say it to another worker, someone unseen in the hall. But it fits.

Billion-dollar bitch.

Maybe they’ll tattoo it on my unused skin after they take all the parts they covet.

Cam steps ahead of me when we reach the gate and he waves a wristwatch in front of it.

The lock opens and I see a steep set of stairs down to a wide, sandy beach.

It’s breathtaking, nothing but sand and water as far as the eye can see.

Four large structures, two on each side of the stairs, stand below on the sand.

“One hundred seventy-nine stairs. Can you handle them?”

“No one’s broken my legs yet, Cam. Or is it Mario?”

He flinches. “Cam. Please. And no one will break any bones, Paigelynn. You have my word.”

I halt, three steps down, in front of him. Turning back, he’s a giant. Towering over me, he’s wide-shouldered, the blue sky so big behind him it seems limitless.

“Your word means nothing,” I hiss, then turn back to descend the steps.

Each one feels unstable, the ankle monitor making it hard to navigate.

There are railings on the right side of the stairs, and the descent comes in groupings of ten at a time.

Sharp, jagged rocks cover the cliffside, along with short green vegetation.

It’s nothing like what I’ve seen before, and I wonder where in the world – literally, in the entire world – I am right now.

My own breath forces me to slow down, Cam within two steps behind me at all times. A huge gust of wind catches me off guard and I inhale sharply, teetering for a second, then I tighten my grip on the railing.

Throw yourself off the cliff , a voice intrudes, the thought tempting.

So tempting Cam suddenly grabs my waistband from behind.

“Don’t even consider it.”

“Too late.”

“They’ll still pick you clean like the vultures they are.”

“Funny you go straight to them. What they ’ll do. What they need.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You aren’t thinking about me. About my pain. About my fear. About my feelings. You went straight to what they’ll do.”

“Because what they’ll do is turn you into an organ buffet.”

“ You’re about to do that to me! Only worse! You’re breeding me, aren’t you?” I scream, and oh, how good it feels to scream at him. I let out a long, anguished, angry cry, air exiting my body until I’m hoarse, then gagging, my vision turning to pinpoints.

If I scream long enough, maybe the wind will do my work for me.

“Paigelynn, no!” he shouts, arms around my waist, his feet anchoring between mine. “This isn’t what you want.”

Air fills my lungs against my will and my skin feels like hot sandpaper. I spin in his arms and try to lift my knee. Not so much to escape.

I just want him to feel some pain.

I have more than enough to share.

Dodging my assault easily, he grabs my hair by the nape of my neck and forces me to look at him. If I kick back hard enough, I might be able to make us fall. His weight on mine could snap my neck if I hit the edge of a stair just right.

He grabs the handrail with his free arm.

“Fuck you, Cam. What I want is freedom.”

“I’m working on it.”

I kick his calf with my bracelet-covered foot. “You’re doing a terrible job.”

“You have no idea what it takes behind the scenes.”

“I think you’re enjoying every second of this. Sucking up every drop of my fear. You like this game, don’t you?” I reach between us and find him hard. “See? I knew it.”

“ You do that to me.”

“That’s what I said. You get excited thinking about turning me into your little billion-dollar breeding bitch.”

The words come out of my mouth, and he recoils as if I’ve punched him.

“My what ?” he chokes out.

“That’s all I am, right?” I begin aggressively stroking his shaft over the fine twill pants he’s wearing. I can feel every vein popping out, the bulge distinct. “Might as well service you now.”

“Stop it.” Cam’s voice goes cold, his hips pivoting away from me, hand gripping my wrist like he's about to snap it.

“Am I doing it wrong? I'm so sorry, Sir . I’m a virgin, after all. I don’t know anything about sex,” I murmur, rubbing my breasts against his chest as he simultaneously clutches my hair and tries to turn away.

“You can teach me. You bought me. I’m yours to do with whatever you wish.

Don’t you want to – what did one of them say the other day? – sample the merchandise?”

He yanks my hair hard, so hard I see little spots in my vision field, and he takes a step back and up, stretching his arm and bending at the waist.

“Turn around,” he orders.

“Make me.”

“Paigelynn. Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” I start laughing, the sound like a flute with a dent in it, a hysterical tone pushing air from my lungs.

“You – you’re ordering me to be reasonable ?

You kill my bodyguards, steal me away, lie to me, take me to an underground bunker that’s all part of an elaborate farce, and then you buy me at an auction, and you expect me to be reasonable ?

You demand a lot from your billion-dollar breeding bitch, don’t you? ”

But I do turn around, and when I take a step forward, he falters, his grip on my hair and wrist letting loose.

So I run.

The ankle monitor is heavy and makes me stumble, my gratitude for being outdoors extending to the railing now as I grab it. Every other step requires effort, and soon I have it down, but he’s faster.

Of course I can’t run away. I know that. I’m not stupid.

But I can’t do nothing.

My heart is racing so hard I feel it slap my ribs, the pain rising up from exertion. This kind of pain is different. This kind of pain feels good.

This kind of pain is under my control.

Nothing else about me is.

Sure, I’m fleeing Cam, but not really. Even if I fling myself down this cliff they’ll do exactly what he says.

Pick my bones clean.

Drowning myself in the ocean wouldn’t be productive, either. Cam would just pull me out, and I’m sure there’s a drone watching us. A helicopter would magically appear, with surgeons in it ready to slash and shove my organs on ice.

I’ve thought of every possible scenario.

There’s no way out but through.

Might as well enjoy the sun on my face and the sand between my toes while they let me.

By the time my foot hits beach I’ve broken out in a light sweat, and the wind feels good.

It’s easier to take full, deep breaths down here, and my ribcage expands like it’s made of rubber bands.

Maybe it’s the air, but maybe it’s the distance from that cold, horrible place I’ve just been imprisoned in.

Doesn’t matter, really. I’ll take all the breaths I can get.

Cam’s next to me in an instant, but I lower myself to the ground, untying my shoes. When he looks down at me confusion clouds his face, then he smiles.

"You're mercurial. From offering yourself up to me to being barefoot on the beach."

"Consider it my death throes."

His mouth opens and closes a couple of times before he presses his lips together firmly, one hand over his eyes to block out the sun.

"Walk on the beach. Feel the sand between your toes, Paigelynn. Enjoy it all."

"While I can, you mean."

"No. Enjoy it because I want you to feel good."

"Let me guess. Sunlight is good for breeding?

My skin will be more supple for grafting?

How does me playing on the beach serve my masters?

" I let out a long, bitter laugh. " Masters . Now I understand what The Mother really meant when she told me to obey my masters. More like my recipients . Recipients of my organs. I’m not a human being, am I? Just a product."

He flinches, then looks up toward the house, motioning to someone. I look down and finish taking off my shoes.

"Keep going," he murmurs, but I don't care what he says now. It doesn't make sense. Why encourage me to take off my shoes and find serenity – or some facade of it – on a sunny beach when they're about to destroy me?

I ignore him, remove my shoes, and storm away from him, walking as fast as I can.

The dry sand turns wet after a bit, and my heels find better purchase on the shore.

The closer I get to the water, the stronger the wind becomes, until my ears fill with nothing but the sound of the breeze and the waves.

Cam follows behind me, his shadow ahead, the top half of him stretched out by the sun, long past me.

Each step I take gives me permission to breathe, though the ankle weight makes me angry. If I dip my feet deep enough in the ocean, can I neutralize it? Probably not. These people are billionaires. The only tech they haven’t mastered is a submarine.

“Listen to me,” he whispers, the roar of the ocean fading as his light voice consumes my eardrum. “Do as I say.”

He points to his own bare foot, which is digging deep into the sand.

“What?”

“Do it.”

“Why?”

His elbow nudges my ribs, hard enough to dig in and hurt. “Because I said so.”

“As if I have to –”

He bends down then, palms around my ankle, the feel of his warm hand on my chilled skin making me shiver. Using his fingers, he excavates wet sand, creating a small hole. I nearly fall on him when he takes my weighted ankle and shoves it in the hole, burying my foot a few inches under sand.

He stands, leans down, and whispers, “Now we can talk freely.”

I didn’t think I had a shred of hope left in my bones.

Turns out I was wrong.