Page 130 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

Chapter 32

She didn’t text again. I knew she was waiting for me to come down there, grab her, and take her back to my house. She would love that. But it went against everything I believed in as far as consent. Besides, if I broke my word, she would never trust me again.

I could break some rules for Alice if she truly and honestly gave herself to me and proved to me she wanted this. But I had to let her make the first move. I had to know she meant it, even if that meant letting our relationship fizzle out for now. She was scared, and we needed space. Maybe we would talk some more over my time away from Cullowhee and she would be less scared when I got back. I told myself,this is for the best.

But I also knew how her brain worked. She hadn’t texted me since Saturday night, and it was already Monday afternoon. I knew she struggled with cutting people out.What if this was it? What if this was all we ever had? What if “I will destroy you” wasn’t a promise, but a warning?

I shut that thought down. My vision still hadn’t come true. And I knew she’d said no collars, but the vision of Alice wearing my collar, the one I had made for her before I even met her came back into my head.

No, I will see that sight one day.At least, that’s what I told myself that night when I went to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up and realized with horror that I hadn’t seen Alice in my sleep. Not once. For the first time in over twenty-four years, I hadn’t had my vision.

It was over.

I laid in bed until nine o’clock, trying to go back to sleep in hopes the vision would come, but it never did. Angrily, my heart aching at the loss of the prophecy, I forced myself to my feet, put my bags in my car, and headed to DC.

Wednesday morning,my friends greeted me far too cheerfully in the lobby of our public dungeon, AnchorX. Becca smiled at me, but her face fell as she saw my expression. Simon was saying something to Lindsay, but he shut up when he saw me.

Lindsay winced. “Yikes,” she mouthed to her boyfriend, and looked away in discomfort. Her boyfriend Brett looked away and put his hands in his pockets.

“Reuben, you okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look–”

“I’m fine.”

“How’s Alice?” Simon asked.

“Who knows.”

“Did she–”

“Drop it.”

Not another word was said.

We spent the next fewhours going over the numbers. Most of the people who attended the fundraiser had pledged annual amounts to support the expansion project, which we were tentatively calling Pathway to Peace.

Alex, Jake, and Andy Greenwood were on the conference call while we outlined what we needed and wanted. Andy Greenwood owned a construction business and would do the work, and was thrilled to have another large scale project that he had almost complete artistic control over.

I sat back and watched my team basically run the meeting for me, speaking when necessary. I almost felt like I wasn’t needed anymore.

Truth be told, I facilitated the work at The Weston House, but I didn’t really do much other than act as the Master of the House, show up when the new girls arrived, vet new caregivers, and sometimes facilitate CNC scenes. When I was here, I did my best to eat meals with the girls, talk to them, connect with them, and show them some level of autonomy, but my team of therapists and caregivers did most of the real work. My small-scale rescue project had grown to the point where, like my restaurants, my people ran it for me. I had great people on board who were more skilled than I was. I was the face and the wallet, but that was about it.

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