Page 15 of Possessive

Was I better? I wasn't sure. I hadn't thrown up for long, but it was long enough.

"I suppose so," I said. "I shouldn't have eaten so fast." I was lucky to have made it to the powder room in time. Otherwise I would have thrown up all over his hardwood floors.

"I don't blame you." He picked up a chair from the side of the bedroom and placed it down next to me. "For any of it."

I wanted to tell him he should, but I wasn't ready to explain why. The time for that would come when I was feeling stronger. When I was better able to defend myself against him and anyone else.

"I have a doctor on the way to see you," he said. "A discreet one. Anything you have to tell him won't leave these walls. If it does, I'll deal with him."

Of course he would. Someone like Reuben Brantley didn't like his orders being disobeyed.

"Like you dealt with my father," I said.

"Exactly." He sat forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. "I can't imagine how you survived those years. I'm not sure I would have." That was a surprising admission, coming from someone like him.

"I'm not sure I did," I said. "Maybe I'm dead and I haven't realised it yet."

He responded with a soft snort. "Does that make me the devil? Some would say it does."

"I don't think this is hell," I said. "Unless all those years were Purgatory and I've finally moved on."

"I'm no angel, so I'd suggest you're still alive." He didn't smile when he said that, but his words were slightly lighter.

Now I thought about it, I couldn't remember having ever seen him smile. Maybe that was something he didn't do.

"That's a possibility." I sucked in breath and held it for a long time before slowly letting it go.

"What is it?" he asked. It wasn't quite command, but he gave no apology for prying either.

I pushed myself to sit up against the headboard, my knees tucked into my chest.

"I'm scared of waking up," I whispered.

He took a moment to process that. "In case this is a dream and you're still in the cage."

"Yes." If I woke up and found myself there, the last shred of my sanity would shatter. I was certain of that.

He ran the tip of his finger across his lower lip, back and forth with mesmerising slowness.

"I won't offer to pinch you. I can assure you, this isn't a dream. Not, I think, a nightmare either. Your fear sounds rational. Expected after what you've been through."

"My mother used to say that people shouldn't make promises they can't keep," I said.

"That's good advice," he said. "I have a preference for operating the same way."

"Then I can believe you if you promise this is real," I said. Could I? I wanted to.

"I promise you, this is real," he said. "You're in my house. I can also promise you that Kurt Lasalle will never touch you again. He will be dealt with appropriately." There was a slight emphasis on the last word. It promised that when they found him, Kurt would suffer.

"I believe you," I said.

"This wasn't what you expected," he stated. "When you first saw me, you thought I'd have you killed. Why?"

I chewed my lip. "I believed Kurt when he said my family was all dead. He suggested you had them killed. I thought I was the last of us. Why wouldn't you have had me killed?"

Reuben inclined his head slowly. "Now you know that's not the case. I've had no reason to go after any of your family, after your father. Not your brothers, your sister or even your cousins." A brief frown creased his brow.

"What is it?" I asked. I hardly knew my cousins, but when he mentioned them he seemed troubled somehow.

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