Page 7 of Master of My Heart

How long had she been lying there? Had Khyan returned?

Half-blind, she picked up the cloudy diamond from the floor, then dropped it again. She didn’t want it, didn’t want to risk Khyan being able to find her with it. Instead, she picked up her bag and stumbled out the door and down the hallway, her hand sliding along the wooden paneling to help her maintain her balance.

By the time she reached the end of the hallway, her vision had cleared, but her head still pounded with each heartbeat.

Car. I need a car.

There was no way to escape without one. The compound was in the middle of nowhere. She was reminded of that fact every time she was driven to the ballet studio.

She learned to drive when she was sixteen, but hadn’t been allowed to since she was taken. Did she even remember how to drive?

She had to try.

The garage was at the end of a long hallway. Once inside, she found the small cabinet containing the keys and stared at the labels. So many vehicles. Does it really matter which one I take? Ramon was dead. He wouldn’t care. Finally, she grabbed the keys to one of the smaller SUVs.

She fell into the driver’s seat and stared at the place a key would normally go, seeing only a button marked “start.” She pushed it and the engine roared to life. Blowing out a breath, she opened the garage door with the remote and backed out as quickly as possible, scraping the side of the black sports car next to her. She didn’t stop to check the damage. Who would care?

She shuddered at the memories threatening to return and turned her concentration to the dirt road ahead of her. She had no idea where she was going, except away from the compound. The dirt eventually turned into a paved road and ended at a T, a sign indicating the freeway was nearby.

East to Boston or west to Tucson?

Did it matter? Did she want to drive to Boston? Was it even possible to drive to Boston?

After contemplating for a long moment, she decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to drive all the way across the country.

She stared at the sign, not knowing what to do. She had no friends, no family. Ramon and Khyan never let her talk to anyone, except...

She turned the car west, toward the city and the one person she knew in the area. Larry Baker, the director of the small city ballet company she danced with.

*****

As Sabrina walked up to the ballet studio, she feared she was putting Mr. Baker in danger, but she honestly didn’t know what else to do. She prayed it didn’t occur to Khyan to ask him and that Mr. Baker stayed safe... if he even agreed to help. She’d never been allowed to be friendly with anyone. Khyan or Ramon would have punished her severely had she tried.

She opened the glass door to his office suite and Eloise, Mr. Baker’s secretary, stared at Sabrina over her half-moon glasses, eyes wide. The secretary’s salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in its customary bun, making her look like the former dancer she was.

Sabrina wasn’t surprised at the other woman’s astonishment. She’d never been here without Ramon, one of his men, or Khyan by her side.

“S-Sabrina?” Eloise asked in a nervous voice, looking around. No one was allowed to talk to Sabrina without permission. “What are you doing here? You missed classes this week. Is everything all right?”

Sabrina chewed her lip for a moment as she contemplated what to say. “I’m okay,” she finally answered in a soft voice. “Is Mr. Baker here?”

Eloise glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

It occurred to Sabrina that she had no idea what day it was. A subtle look at the desk calendar told her it was Friday. The clock on the wall said it was almost four. The last thing she remembered was waking up Sunday morning.

She’d blacked out before, but not for this long. When she’d killed before, Ramon said she blacked out for a day or so. But when he or Khyan worked her over to the point where she couldn’t move, she’d sleep as long as it took to heal.

The sound of gunshots echo through my mind. Miguel, one of Ramon’s men, aims a gun at me. He shoots. I feel a slight sting in my side, but it just makes me angrier. I lunge at him as he shoots again—

Sabrina swallowed hard and pushed the image away. She didn’t want to remember what she did.

If she had been shot, though, that would explain the extended time of healing sleep.

Sabrina dropped into one of the hard leather chairs along the wall and twisted Chase’s ring around her thumb.

As the seconds ticked by and she stared at the abstract pattern of the carpet below her feet, doubts began to creep in about coming to see Mr. Baker. The last thing she wanted to do was put him, or anyone else, in danger. But she had no idea how to get to Boston. No idea how to buy a plane ticket or even where the airport was. She was only sixteen when she was taken and had lived in a tiny bubble of hell ever since. Ramon only ever let her go to the ballet studio and the occasional outing when he needed help with a business deal.

She needed help, but would it endanger Mr. Baker and Eloise?

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