Page 7 of Restitution

STACEY

As soon as we round the corner and go up a floor, we hear whimpers. Moans. He swears and pulls me to the side when I falter in my steps. “You can’t run if you get scared. You need to be an obedient prize and stay by my side, okay?”

I straighten my spine and nod up at him. “Yeah.”

“I’ll need to treat you terribly.”

“I know,” I reply, my eyes flicking to the side when I hear a man laughing.

“I apologise in advance.”

He genuinely sounds terrified, so I soften my voice. “Tobias, it’s okay – just hurry up.”

He grips my arm and pulls me along the corridor,and I try to keep up.

We round another corner, and my back hits the wall before I can even let out a gasp. Tobias plasters himself against my front and lowers his head to the hollow of my throat.

“Sorry,” he whispers, a soft breath through the hole at the mouth of the mask. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he breathes repeatedly as he grabs my thigh and pulls it up to his side, playing the part. “Forgive me.”

Archie walks past with three guards. He’s talking on the phone and not giving us any attention. He’s yelling at someone to get someone under control.

Once they’re out of sight, he drops my leg and flinches back like I’ve burned him. “Sorry.” He straightens me up and turns his head.

“Do you think he was talking about Kade?”

Tobias trembles a little, and I know he’s vibrating with rage he’s struggling to control. “Probably,” he grits, glancing in the direction Archie went. “It’s taking me everything not to snap the bastard’s neck, but I can’t risk you. Come on. I’ll make sure he burns along with the manor.”

He takes my wrist and pulls me along the corridor once more. Annoyingly, a man with a cigar is walking towards us with one of the auction paddles in his hand. Tobias lowers his hand to my hip and greets the man, trying to blend in.

The hand burns.

Once the man is gone, his touch snaps away.

I accept his hand in mine, his thumb rubbing over my skin to remind me that I’m safe as I follow him into another corridor, cold and clammy, doors lining one side of the wall, the rooms locked and filled with more moaning.

I whimper and lower my head when a door opens and I see a girl waiting inside, her hands obediently resting in her lap. “What about the rest of them?”

“Once I get you out safely, Barry, his men and the Russians will storm the place. They’ll get the rest out before they burn it to the ground. The latter wanted to storm it right away, but I couldn’t risk you getting hurt. This is the safest way.”

My hand is in his once again as we ascend the staircase, the music slowly filling my ears. Orchestral music – Alexandre Desplat. I usually enjoy his music while dancing or reading, but right now, it’s making this entire situation worse. It grows louder as we get to the top, the stairs opening to the main foyer as the melody merges into “Statues”.

In the open, he lets go of my hand and takes my arm again, dragging and pushing me around corners. I know he’s hating treating me this way, but we can’t let anyone recognise him or what we’re doing.

Some of the other buyers are walking around, showcasing their new pets, all in white dresses identical to mine. Some look a little younger than me, some older, and some are downright terrified and sobbing.

Instead of going through the entranceway doors, we take a right, bypassing the auction room, which is filled with workers cleaning up. He walks slowly, so I can keep up in my bare feet. No one blinks in my direction, despite the splatters of crimson dotted all over my dress and face.

As if this is normal to them.

A guard stands to the side with a gun strapped to his chest. He nods to Tobias. “Are you enjoying your prize, sir? Is she toyour liking?”

My body goes stiff as Tobias yanks me to stand in front of him, pretending to whisper in my ear words of assault, his hand just under my breast, while actually telling me not to give him eye contact and that he’s once again sorry. “Oh, she’s more than to my liking. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“You’ll join the others in the conference room?”

“Maybe next time,” he says, then grabs a fistful of my hair and drags me into the next corridor.

I elbow him when we’re out of view. “You did not need to pull my hair.”