Page 54 of Innocence
One thing made me reach out and give his hand a brief shake. The black collar around his neck. None of the other guys I’d seen were wearing one.
My gaze narrowed when he tipped his head. “Do you have a name?”
Careful, it could be a trick.
“Kya,” I whispered warily.
My suspicion must’ve amused him, because he belted out a loud laugh.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Liam plopped down on one of the benches and lit a cigarette. “I won’t tell him you used your name.”
I didn’t think he was related to Lorenzo. Liam didn’t have the same olive tone, and his hair was blond. Like blond, blond. Golden, with platinum undertones. He was just as cut as the other guys I’d seen.
That was kind of hard to miss, considering he didn’t have a shirt on. Didn’t mean I was going to trust him.
“Tell who?”
“Enzo. You’re his, right?”
Definitely not trusting him.
“How do you know that?”
“All the masters have a color, sweetheart.” He tipped his chin at my neck, “Your collar kind of gives it away.”
My eyes landed on the leather band around his neck. “Who’s black?”
“Whoever pays the most.”
He said it so nonchalantly. As if people were sold every day. Then my mind went back to my supposed birthday present.
I felt my face pale as my fingers once again found their way to my neck. Was I going to get sold, and what did that entail? Would I end up like those girls? Pawing all over some uncouth barbarian?
“Oh my God,” I hunched over, gasping, “I can’t breathe.”
Liam sprang to my side and placed a reassuring hand on my back. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I blubbered. “I don’t want to be like them.”
“Like who?”
“Those girls.” Here came the tears, falling in fat drops down my face. “I saw them.”
Right now I couldn’t get them out of my head. How many men did they do that with? Was that their life? Nothing but a thing to be used? I couldn’t live like that.
“Don’t have to worry about that,” Liam said, while ushering me to sit on the bench.
“What do you mean, don’t worry about that?” I snapped back at him. “How many women have you been forced to sleep with?”
His brow arched. “What makes you think it’s forced?”
What? Of course it was forced. My eyes narrowed… unless that leather band was rouse?
“What’s that for then?” I pointed at his collar.
He shrugged, “All the slaves wear one.”
“So, you’re a slave, but no one forces you to do anything?”
