Page 18 of Lily

“Do you ever hear him getting up at night, Rose?”

“No,” she whispered, but that didn’t mean anything. She was always so tired that she couldn’t possibly know if he used the bathroom on the second floor. She slept too hard.

“I’m so scared,” she told him again. “What if he catches you?”

“You let me worry about Leo. He’s old and frail and fat,” he joked.

Not too old and frail and fat to hold me prisoner.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart. Stay brave for me.”

She squeezed her eyes closed and focused on her breathing.

A few minutes passed before she heard the engine shut off. “I’m outside the gate. He has cameras everywhere. No one monitors them?”

“He does. Like a hawk all day, but I don’t think so at night.”

“Listen to me, Rose. I’m going to scale the gate and jump down. Then I’m going to pick the lock to the back door. Do you think you can come downstairs and meet me so I can get you out of there as fast as possible?”

“What about the collar?” She whimpered. Had he forgotten?

“I’ll worry about the collar, sweetheart. Trust me?”

“Yes.” She had no choice. She’d come this far. She had to take this chance. If she didn’t, she might not be alive to see another day. She didn’t have enough will left in her to continue obeying this Master. She feared she would soon fuck up so badly that he’d beat her until he killed her.

“I’m inside the gate, Rose. Can you come downstairs for me?”

“Yes.” Be brave. She was trembling badly. Was he really going to be able to rescue her? It seemed monumental. There were still so many obstacles.

Roselia slid out of bed, landing on shaky legs. She was naked and winced with the movement. Her welts were very painful. She set the phone down, yanked the sheet off the bed, wrapped it around her, and grabbed the phone once more.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly opened the door, tiptoed into the hallway, and closed it behind her. Rushing faster than she would ever dare with her Master looking, she hurried down the stairs, carefully avoiding the ones she knew would squeak—small consolation from having lived here four months.

When she reached the kitchen, she saw him—Marco. He was outside the glass door at the back of the house, his gaze down. He was picking the lock. He had on a dark hoodie which was up over his head. He’d thought of everything, apparently, because there were probably cameras outside. There certainly were cameras inside.

She held her breath, scared out of her mind, panic welling up inside her. Come on. Come on. Please. Oh, God.

And then she heard the snick of the lock disengaging. She suddenly realized she could turn off the alarm faster than him, and she rushed across the room to do so. The moment he opened the door, the soft beeping started on the alarm pad.

Focus, Roselia. She lifted her finger and typed in the code, breathing a sigh of relief when it disarmed.

Before she could fully turn around, she was in Marco’s arms. “I’ve got you.”

She tried not to cry. They weren’t done yet. She lifted her face to his, met his gaze, and stared into his fantastic green eyes. Memories flooded back to her, and her knees nearly gave out. “The collar,” she whispered.

Marco smiled. He took the phone from her hand, disconnected the call, popped off the black plastic case, and tucked the phone in his pocket. Moving quickly, he reached under the front of the collar. “Looking for the prongs, sweetheart,” he murmured.

She was nervous as he removed his fingers, and she watched as he broke all four edges off the case, leaving only a flat piece of jagged plastic.

He met her gaze. “I’m going to slide the phone case between your neck and the prongs so they can’t shock you.”

Her eyes went wide. “Will that work?”

“Yes. It’s going to be very tight. Try not to panic. I’ll carry you out of here and remove it as soon as we’re a safe distance from the house.”

“Okay.” She was shaking violently. Her legs weren’t going to hold her up much longer. She’d been stressed and plotting for almost twelve hours. How much longer could she go before she collapsed?

He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “I’ve got you, Rose. We’re getting out of here.” Wasting no time, he pulled the edge of the collar from her throat, slid the case underneath it, lifted her carefully in his arms, and headed for the door.

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