Page 32 of Ruthless Keeper
I drop my gaze. “I don’t want to go out with these things on my hands.”
I can sense Monster’s surprise even without looking at him. At any other time, I’d be leaping on the chance to explore, to figure this place out and find the weak points. But with these mitts… anyone who I encounter will see me for exactly what I am; worthless property, collared like a dog with ridiculous mittens locked onto my hands.
“I’m not taking them off,” Monster says immovably. “You’ll wear them today, and we’ll discuss my conditions for you living without them tonight to see if it’s time for me to take them off.”
“Then I don’t want to go out.”
Monster tilts his head to the side. “Look at me and tell me why.”
I look at the wall instead. “They’re humiliating. All of this is humiliating. I’m not aperson, I’m just… a doll.” Which is what my father forced me to be for the first seventeen years of my life. He didn’t use a collar because he didn’t have to; I could always feel his control like a noose around my neck. If I’d ever been stupid enough to harm myself, he would’ve tied me up and tossed me in the cellar.
“Look at me,” Monster repeats, his tone a bit firmer. I reluctantly dart my gaze back to his. “This is not a punishment,” he tells me, squeezing the mitts. “This is a precaution. These should tell you just how much I value you, because I will literally takeno riskswith your safety. I could’ve cuffed your hands behind your back, or just kept you drugged for a few weeks until you snapped out of this… dark period. Instead, I ensured your hands couldn’t harm you—and that’sallI did.”
“You’re reducing me to an invalid.”
“That’s not what this is. Someday, you’ll understand that.” He stands and takes my wrist, trying to pull me up from the bed.
I shake my head. “I don’t want to go. Put me back in the cell.”
“I’m not asking you, Flower. This isn’t a choice, it’s a command.” He purses his lips as he looks me over. “You’re not healthy, Scarlett. Sunlight and fresh air might be good for you.”
“Then let me—”
“No, I won’t let you go.” Monster’s temper is starting to flare. “You had nine months to look after yourself, Scarlett, and youdidn’t. How often did you go on walks in nature? Let your skin get natural sunshine? Eathealthy meals?Did you do thatat all, Scarlett? Ever?”
I don’t respond, but shame brightens my cheeks. Iwasn’tvery good at taking care of myself. I was in a rush to finish college after a mid-year transfer and get a job. Then, I was up at the crack of dawn to be in the lab early, and only came home well after dark most nights. Very little about my routine was healthy… but I washealing.
Or was I? Was I just…existing?Surviving?
No,survivingis what I’m doing right now. Surviving is dealing with the constant degradation and humiliation Monster throws at me, taking it all with a stiff upper lip.
“Come on,” Monster says. He’s no longer asking or being nice about it. His hold on my wrist tightens in warning. “Remember the rules.”
He leads me through a large apartment filled with countless rooms, and out into a hallway. It looks… different from the last time I was here. Itsmellsdifferent, too. I think there might’ve been work done on this building.
There’s only a single straggler in the hallway, a man who stops short and stares at me, wide-eyed. He notices my gloves, my collar, and gives me a look filled with so much pity it makes me want to throw up.
I stumble over my own feet. Monster wraps an arm around my waist, pulls me into his side, and glares at the other guy. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
The man straightens and clears his throat. “Yes, sir. Physical training.”
“Then get the fuck to it. Don’t gawk at my woman.”
“Of course, sir.” The other guy scrambles off, jogging down the hallway, and the true weight of Monster’s power around here hits me. Being calledsir.Having people answer to his command.
“Who are you here?” I ask Monster.
He tightens his arm around my waist. “Second-in-command. A general.” He gazes down at me. “But there’s only one title I find I really want, Flower,” he murmurs. “Your man.”
I look away sharply, unable to bear the weight of his words and implications. He leads me to an elevator, which is thankfully deserted. A short trip down takes us to the first floor, which is vaguely familiar… though some things have changed.
High ceilings loom above, heavy with silence. Refurbished marble pillars are scattered about the main hall, pale surfaces broken with dark veins.
On either side of the elevator, several hallways branch out, leading deeper into the building. Across from the elevator lies a set of reinforced steel double doors—a barrier that looks like it could withstand a nuclear war. This space isn’t meant to welcome, it’s meant to shield and protect… and remind every resident where they are and who they are.
There are more people here, a group of them lingering by the stone doorway, and all of them very pointedly avert their gazes from Monster, and by extension, me. I’m grateful for the reprieve. Even though I despise him, I admire the power Monster wields with his presence alone. That sort of obedience is earned.
The men in Father’s ranks were always rowdy and testing limits and boundaries. Luther managed to keep them in line, but it took a lot of effort because he was a shit role model. A guy who beat his kids and threatened his men to stay in line.
