Page 54 of Violent Delights

Chapter 33

Liana

So, he can’t tell me his name?

You know that.

Again, he’s implying that I know something that I actually don’t. It’s satisfying to realize that I must be right about my assumption, but it also scares me.

I scare myself. I’m not using this information like a sane person should, but instead I’ve started to dig a hole for myself. Isn’t there a chance that he will find out about his mistake? And what about the other woman? What about the real Ruby Red? If she still expecting to be ‘kidnapped’ by him? And at what point, when it doesn‘t happen, will she contact him? Shouldn’t there be a woman out there who’s just as confused as I am? As confused as I am about being here, this other woman must be just as confused about not being here.

“I know you can’t tell me,” I lie to him. “But I thought we could make an exception.”

He shakes his head, his facial expression hardening. “We can’t.”

“You’re stubborn,” I tell him, watching him with intent to make sure I’m not going too far.

“No,” he objects, averting my eyes and focusing on the food in front of him. “I’m not stubborn, just strict. Flexibility is not really my thing when it comes to rules. Another thing you should know.”

“You made an exception with this,” I say, gesturing toward the food. “And with giving me clothes. Didn’t you say those things weren’t part of the game either?”

“Game?” he asks, sneering at me. “Stop calling it that.”

I bite my lower lip. Okay, that one went too far. I have to be more careful, if I don’t want him to cut the conversation short again.

“So, um, are you living here by yourself?” I ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, which only makes my question sound even more stupid.

He furrows his eyebrows at me again.

“Well, not at the moment,” he says. “You’re here, too.”

I roll my eyes at him, something that would usually make him furious, but this time it causes him to laugh. This must be the first time I’ve ever seen him laugh out loud like this. There’s never been more than a quick chuckle or a smirk before.

I smile at him, which causes his face to harden.

“So, it’s just you otherwise?” I press, unwilling to let go of my line of questioning.

He nods. “Yes, it’s just me.”

“Isn’t it weird to live in such a big house all by yourself?” I ask. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“A lot of people live by themselves,” he says. “That doesn’t mean they are lonely.”

I nod. “Yes, sure, but-”

“Do you live by yourself?” he interrupts me.

I bring the coffee mug up to my face, taking a big sip, as if I was trying to hide behind it. My first instinct is to deny it and tell him that I’m living with my boyfriend. It’s not even because I want to lie to him, but because that’s what still pops into my head when I’m asked about my living situation. Luke and I haven’t been living together for that long, but it felt so natural to me that I still can’t believe it’s over.

“Yes, I do,” I say. “As of late.”

“And are you lonely?” he wants to know.

I pause, placing the mug back on the table, absentmindedly turning it on the small bottom plate. The sun rays are playing on the cutlery, randomly blinding me with sharp flashes of light as he moves his fork and knife before me.

“Yes,” I whisper solemnly without looking at him. “Yes, I am lonely.”

I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t reciprocate the gaze. I don’t even know why I’m telling him this. He doesn’t want to hear my little sob story. He just wants to have fun with his little sex slave and not be burdened with her emotional luggage.

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