Page 13 of Surrender

If I were alone, maybe I could attempt to undo the collar, or at least the manacles. I’d be going over everything I know in my head, trying to figure out whodunnit, except I know fucking nothing and don’t have a chance of figuring anything out until I get into contact with Corbin and…

Maybe the couch is better after all.

“So what are we watching?” I ask, attempting to reach for the remote.

Cristiano deftly keeps it out of my reach and starts flipping through all his streaming options. “There’s a new documentary on identifying psychopaths,” he drawls. “Maybe that would be interesting to you.”

I snort and suppress a smile. “Nah, I already know how to do that. Got one sitting right next to me, don’t I?”

He’s been affable, almost warm, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s playing the good guy right now, but the second things turn against him… No. He’s not going to play around.

He chuckles. “Pay attention and be a good student. Sociopaths are the ones who get caught, little fox, unless they’re working with a talented psychopath.” He smiles at me. “So I wonder… Who’s keeping you in line?”

I shrug and regret the movement immediately. My back does not appreciate that, but I swallow my wince. “I’m just a wild fox. Doing what I can to get by.”

Cristiano finally lands on some home improvement show. The couple is just finding out that repairs are going to be another thirty grand beyond what they’d budgeted, and Cristiano tsks. “They should’ve known better. That thing should’ve been torn to the ground and rebuilt.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure, if they have an extra million lying around and can be certain they don’t need to have extensive talks with the county about new building permits.” After a pause, I add, “But they should definitely not have gone with that tile. What the fuck is that?”

“The tile isn’t as bad as the color of the cabinets,” he replies thoughtfully.

I don’t know how, but we end up spending the rest of the hour analyzing the home renovations. I find out that Cristiano knows a lot more about architecture than I would’ve imagined, and he has very strong feelings about houses that don’t have garages, of all things.

“Sometimes you just don’t want a driveway,” I point out. “Especially around here. Fuck shoveling snow.”

“If you have a garage, you don’t have to shovel your car out of the snow,” Cristiano huffs. “And it’s easier to get the car warmed up. I—” He stops, but doesn’t tense, when he hears footsteps coming in from the hallway. Heels, from the sound of it.

My instinct says to get into a defensive position, as much as that’s possible with my wrists bound in front of me. But I decide, fuck that. I’m comfortable where I am, and if Cristiano’s got a problem with people seeing him cuddling with a man, then he should have thought about all of that before bringing me out here.

I kind of want to see just how Cristiano reacts, too.

I’m more than familiar with people who act one way in private, and another in public.

Someone I’d peg around five-foot-ten enters, though some of that height can be attributed to the heels on their feet. Their hair is long, well past their shoulders, and falls in soft, artfully styled waves. Clad as they are in a loose blouse and expensive-looking trousers, it’s hard to tell much more about them.

“Briar,” Cristiano greets, sitting up more but not moving away from me.

Briar’s eyes, gold-green like a cat’s, narrow when they land on me. “Oh, so it wasn’t bad enough that you got the bed bloody. You had to bring him out here and get the couch bloody, too?”.

“Yep. Sorry,” I say sarcastically. “Daddy just couldn’t keep his hands off me.” I raise my cuffed hands to rest them against Cristiano’s chest.

“At least I didn’t have to shoot him,” Cristiano says, his voice mild. “Then you’d have been stuck cleaning up brain matter as well, and I know how much you hate that.”

The housekeeper, then, though I don’t know what kind of housekeeper runs around in heels and expensive blouses.

“Briar, this is Fox. Fox, Briar. Fox is my reluctant guest; Briar is my eager, talented, and wonderful housekeeper,” Cristiano says. “If you think they’ll be sympathetic to your plight, you’re wrong.”

“I had zero expectations from Briar,” I answer glibly, eyeing Briar.

There’s a little bit of muscle on their arms, and while I am fairly sure I’d be able to take them in a fair fight, I’m not exactly in a state to test that out.

I do know that I want them out of the room already. “Anyway, Daddy and I were watching a show, so…” I trail off, hoping they get the hint.

Briar smiles at me, not even bothering to try to make it look genuine. “Oh, that’s cute. Daddy Cristiano.”

“Shove it, Briar,” Cristiano says. “Anything new? Or are you ready to get to the scrubbing toilets part? You seem perfectly dressed for work today.”

“Yeah, well.” Briar sighs and drops the fake smile. “You got some mail that could have been quite unfortunate. White powder is never a good sign. I think it’s been sitting in the mailbox for a while though. I never thought I’d be glad that you keep forgetting to check your mail.”

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