Page 13 of Selling Innocence

Not that she struck me as the sort of girl to run. That took courage, and Mackenzie reminded me more of a wet kitten than a threat.

I snapped my fingers to bring her gaze to mine, gestured at the bed, then turned the switch off, bathing the room in darkness.

Enough light poured in from the mostly full moon outside to still see in the room. Kenz didn’t move right away, and I wondered if she’d fall apart now.

Everyone fell apart in situations like this. They lost the nerve they’d cobbled together within themselves and shattered beneath the pressure. Darkness and quiet weighed heavily and caused the cracks to appear quicker, people’s minds giving in to their worst worries.

However, Kenz didn’t do that. She breathed in deeply, then crawled beneath the blankets of my bed. Her form shook, but her breath didn’t catch.

I took a seat in the large armchair beside the door. I’d spent countless nights in places a lot worse than this. I could catch a few hours no matter the location.

Sleep was vital, and people like me either learned to sleep anywhere or we ended up dead.

Her breathing evened out, and within about an hour, soft snores echoed in the room. A smile tugged at my lips, the sensation so strange that my cheeks ached slightly.

I let my eyes slide closed, lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of her snoring. Who knew it could be this relaxing?

* * * *

Kenz

A shower made me feel as though not everything in my life had changed. Why could water do that? Like some baptism that washed away the troubles and fears and made me human again.

A note on the side table when I’d woken had told me to feel free to shower when I rose, then to come out to the living room when finished.

My glucose reader showed the time was nearly noon. The device connected to the sensor I’d placed on the back of my arm already, tracking my levels and set to alert should they go too high or too low. My old reader was the same type, but had connected via Bluetooth to my phone. They had probably picked a stand-alone reader to keep me from having access to a phone.

That reminded me of my place, didn’t it?

Without a blow dryer, I settled for towel drying my hair, then doing a French braid to keep it out of my face.

However, after cleaning up, I realized that I had nothing to put on. The clothing they’d put me in for the auction—a sweet-looking white nightgown—sat in a crumpled pile on the floor like a coiled snake.

I couldn’t bring myself to even touch it, as though it would pull me back into that mess if I neared it.

However, going out in a towel was also probably a bad idea. I could almost hear the Quad in my head, telling me not to parade meat in front of hungry dogs. The night had passed without Tor touching me, but the last thing I wanted was to risk a problem.

I left the steam-filled bathroom, then opened what I assumed was the closet door. There weren’t rows of clothing here, nothing like my own closet. Instead, he had a few simple outfits, most of which were repeats, as though he found a shirt he liked and bought it in white, black and gray. Shoes sat lined on the floor, everything in its place.

This is the closet of a psycho.

Anyone who had their ties perfectly rolled couldn’t be normal.

I took one of the large button-up shirts. Tor hadn’t struck me as the overly angry type, so I didn’t think he’d get too mad over me borrowing a shirt. I picked a black one to reduce the risks of me staining it and because black hid more.

Buttoning it reminded me just how large the man was, when the tails of the shirt reached just above my knees. I wore shorts far shorter than this.

I didn’t want to risk any up-skirt issues, though, so I also took a pair of his boxers. I would have preferred a nice pair of baggy pajama bottoms, but I didn’t see anything like that.

Was he a sleeping naked sort of man?

Given he hasn’t said a word to me, I doubt he’ll answer even if I ask.

Of course, asking people if they slept naked wasn’t the sort of question people were supposed to ask.

The boxers sagged on my hips, but they’d work better than nothing. A glance in the mirror made me laugh.

I looked like a kid playing dress-up. At least no one could claim I was using my feminine wiles to get my way, not dressed like this.

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