Page 26 of Kept

“Let’s go, Pet. You’ve got an article to write.”

Chapter Nine

When I got home,I woke up Mom, who’d been asleep in her armchair, and felt the familiar pang of fear that the cancer had returned. When she slept, she looked as fragile as a feather, still eaten away by chemo.

She blinked at me sleepily and I helped her to her bedroom, where she was snoring softly within minutes.

I told myself she’d wake up and feel better, because that was all I could do. Her next appointment wasn’t for another three weeks, and the doctor had said that her recovery would take time. I couldn’t worry myself sick every single time she was a little more tired than usual.

I spent the rest of the evening flipping through Bourdillon’s student magazine, reading the articles and absorbing the general tone. There was a large emphasis on the lacrosse team this year, but every time I tried to think of a topic anyone else there might care about, I kept landing on Rachelle.

I was curled up in bed, still outlining vague ideas for an artists’ featurette, when my phone lit up on my nightstand. I dropped my pencil grabbing for it while simultaneously cursing my eagerness.

There was no reason to care so much that one of my owners might be texting me this late at night.

Vincent:How’s my Pet tonight?

I stared at the backlit screen, letting my notebook fall off my lap. I had no idea how to respond. He was so cold in person, but the idea of texting him back with a formal tone didn’t appeal, and there was no way being casual was going to get on his good side.

I wrote and erased about six messages, wondering if he saw my little text dots appearing and disappearing.

Jane:I’m good, sir. You?

There. No more than needed to be said until I figured him out a little better. I waited impatiently for a text to come back once it was marked read, but the minutes ticked by fruitlessly.

I’d finally given up and picked up my pencil and notebook again when the soft chime alerted me. Embarrassingly, my hands were trembling when I picked up the phone and read the new message.

Vincent:One thing could make it better. Answer.

I stared at it, wondering what he wanted me to answer. There was no question.

Then a video call popped up, running across my screen. I gulped when I saw Vincent’s name, and obediently tapped.

A pitch-black screen showed up, his side of the camera blocked. My own video in the corner showed my face, scrubbed free of makeup and my hair a bit of a mess.

I wished he’d given me forewarning so I could’ve made myself look a little more presentable, because my stomach was churning with the thought of what was coming next. I hoped he wouldn’t see the screen shaking from the tremors in my hands.

“Hello, Pet.” His gravelly voice was pitched low, sending shivers through me.

“Hello, Professor Thayer,” I whispered back. I knew Mom would sleep soundly, but I was still terrified she’d hear me talking.

I self-consciously tucked a lock of blonde hair behind my ear, waiting for whatever he wanted me to do next, and wondered what he was doing. He’d completely blacked out his screen and there was no ambient background noise to tell me where he might be. Was he laying across his bed? Sitting on a couch?

Were the other two Demons next to him, watching me guilelessly stare back at him?

“I’m not in the mood to share your video tonight,” he growled, sounding much grumpier than usual. “This one is just for me.”

My nipples hardened under my thin t-shirt at the possessiveness in his voice. Thayer had been such a jerk the first time I’d met him, and yet he seemed to hold my strings like a puppet master, eliciting reactions I’d given to no one else.

And if those words weren’t an order, I didn’t know what was. “One minute, sir.”

Vincent made an “mmm” of assent, and I swept the notebook and pencil onto the floor, not allowing myself to question the eagerness running through me or the butterflies in my stomach. They had no business being there, but they fluttered just right.

My bedside lamp was already on, giving me the best lighting that would hopefully obscure my flaws. I propped the phone at the end of the bed, ensuring he’d be able to see everything, and when the moment finally came I paused, kneeling in front of it.

A long minute passed in total silence while my palms went clammy. As with the video, the moment of truth was much harder once you found yourself standing on its doorstep.

“What are you waiting for, Pet?”

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