Page 33 of Delivered to the Devil

“Can I bring that one?” I bite my lip, pointing at the chair, which I’ve never felt attached to but now suddenly can’t bear to be without.

Janos nods and gets up.

It only takes the men two trips to bring the boxes down the stairs. I barely get to look the apartment over a final time before Janos ushers me out the door, bringing the red chair with him.

I follow them as they carry the chair down the steep, winding stairs. Janos doesn’t heave a single labored breath; whereas the other man is out of breath as we reach the ground. I can’t help sending a taunting look his way as Janos presses a hand to my back and nudges me into the front of a van. I feel stupidly safe with Janos here. But it’s no better than being in the company of a lion. I’m safe from any other predator, but once the lion gets hungry, I’m done.

Janos takes the driver’s seat, and the other man squeezes in beside me on the double passenger seat. Fifteen minutes later, we arrive in a courtyard at a four-story building. It looks like most other buildings in the city center with its arched windowsand bars on the ground level, only it’s more well-kept than most. There are no cracks in the façade or peeling paint. Everything is in pristine order, just like Gabor seems to like it. A shudder runs down my spine at the thought of the man who has forced me from my home. But I shouldn’t complain. This looks better than anything I could have hoped for. Unless he has rented a cell in the basement, that is.

The two men each take a box and lead the way, and I’m relieved when we go up the stairs to the second floor. Janos shoos me into a nice, modern apartment with carpets on the floors and pictures on the walls.

I explore further while the two men bring up the rest of my stuff. The place is a huge upgrade from my worn-down studio, and if I got my bearings right on the drive here, it’s even closer to the city center.

It has a long, narrow hall, a spacious bedroom, a large living room, and a small yet well-equipped kitchen. And, of course, a bathroom. An involuntary smile spreads over my face when I see the large corner tub. I’ve always loved water—both watching and being in it. I could spend hours in the old, narrow tub of my childhood home when my mother didn’t ruin the peace by telling me to find something better to do.

My smile is bright and wide when Janos appears in the hall, and I’m quick to wipe it off when I meet his gaze. I shouldn’t be happy about any of this.

“Where do you want this?” he asks, stopping in the hall with the crimson armchair in his hands.

Stepping across the hall to the bedroom, I point at the corner on the right side of the bed.

“Here?” He sets the chair down in front of the dresser that I’m pointing at.

I confirm with a nod and avert my gaze as I feel him studying me. He surely knows what I’m doing. The chair would fit betterin the empty corner across the room, but I want it on the right side of the bed like it was before. I’m terribly ashamed, but I need it like this—I needhimin the same place as before.

To my relief, he doesn’t comment. He just sets the chair where I want it before leading me to the living room, where he pulls out a chair at the dining table. “Sit.” It’s not an offer, and I slip onto the seat and watch the small stack of documents in front of me.

Contractit says at the top.

Pressing a hand to the tabletop, Janos leans over me and turns the first two pages. His scent wafts past my nose, and I inhale a long breath to catch more of it. I want to slide my hands around his neck and pull him closer, so I can breathe the fresh notes of his aftershave mixing with his own masculine scent. But I still have enough self-respect to restrain myself.

“Sign here.” He points at the empty line at the bottom.

“I can’t sign something I haven’t read.”

“You may read the whole thing if you like, but you’re gonna sign it either way.” He doesn’t grant me the pretense of having a say in any of this. He just needs my signature, and it doesn’t matter how he gets it. But I read the contract anyway.

It’s all very standard. There doesn’t seem to be any fraud hidden between the lines. But then again, I might not be able to detect it if there was. The apartment is bought and paid for, so I won’t be liable for a steep rent if Gabor decides he doesn’t want to splurge his plaything anymore—or whatever motivates him. On paper, I’m the owner.

But it still feels fishy, and when I scribble my signature on the line, I feel like I’m signing my own death warrant.

There are two more lines that I need to sign, and when I’m done, my stomach is twisted in knots.

“Why doesn’t he sign it himself?” I ask as Janos takes the documents.

“No connection on paper. Makes it easier for me to handle any glitch that might arise.”

“As in, if the police gets involved?”

Janos shrugs, offering no further explanation. Then he digs a hand into his pocket and retrieves a large butt plug that makes a metallic clank as he sets it on the table. “At least one hour a day. I’ll know if you don’t use it.” With that, he leaves, taking his passive buddy with him.

I remain staring at the instrument of humiliation long after they’re gone.

Now I’m supposed to do the degradation myself?

***

After the two men have left, I set out to explore the apartment.

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