Page 142 of Spark

Fuck, I’d almost forgotten about that fucking shock collar around my throat. He hadn’t threatened to use it against me since Alaska. I did not want to experience the pain of that in front of company.

“I understand,” I said, trying hard not to sound nervous. I was suddenly terrified I was going to fuck this up.

“Good. Just be on your best behavior, do as you’re told, and relax, okay? You have nothing to fear tonight so long as you can do that.”

“Okay.” I breathed, nodding my head.

Darren then dipped down and kissed me, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me tightly. His kiss made me forget about the impending evening, and I was grateful for the small distraction that ended too soon.

Releasing me, he took my hand and stepped out of my line of sight so I could take in the beauty of the house that stood before me, Clive and Owen following at our backs. It was just as big and magnificent as Darren’s was, besides the colonial architecture.

I held Darren’s hand tightly, sure enough that I would cut off circulation, but he just gripped my hand back, giving me a reassuring tug. He rang the doorbell as we waited on the front porch before a young man in a light blue dress shirt and khakis answered the door.

“Mr. Davis”—he smiled warmly—“good to see you again.” His dark hair accented his dark eyes, and he looked to be of an American Asian descent. No accent, though. He glanced at me briefly, but then took another look for a second too long. I felt Darren tense beside me, but as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Charles.” Darren nodded darkly.

“Please come in,” Charles said as he stepped aside, holding the door open for us. “Mr. Rainer is in the dining room.”

“Thank you.” Darren dismissed him and led us through the house. The house was decorated beautifully with lots of art, and I found it difficult to keep my eyes off the walls as my heels clicked away on the marble floor beneath us. There was a wide staircase off to the right in the foyer, and we bypassed that to head deeper into the back of the house, turning to the right and into the dining room. Clive and Owen took up post just outside the entranceway.

Redwoods, creams, and burgundies exquisitely decorated the dining room. There was a grand chandelier hanging above the long redwood table, a cabinet of fine China and crystal against the wall, and a large bay window, giving access to the woodsy scenery of the backyard.

Sitting at the table was the same man I had met at Daniel and Katherine’s baby shower. Matthew Rainer. I made sure to pay close attention to him. With them being such good friends, I was shocked I’d never seen him at the house before.

“Right on time,” he said as he got up and shook Darren’s hand, a friendly smile on his face.

“As always,” Darren said.

“Miss Wilder, it’s nice to see you again,” Matt said, giving me a small nod.

“You as well,” I replied curtly, hoping that wasn’t against the rules. Wasn’t it usually speak when spoken to and as little as possible?

“Shall we?” Matt said, gesturing toward the dining room.

Darren led me into the dining room, but as we got closure to the table, I noticed there were only two place settings and a cushion on the floor next to one of the chairs. I felt my heart skip a beat with rage as I realized who the damn cushion was for. Darren confirmed my anger when he stood by the chair and pointed at the floor, eyeing me with that challenging look of his. My lips formed a tight line as I sunk my teeth into my tongue to force myself from verbally lashing out. This was bullshit, and he was totally going to hear about it later.

Begrudgingly, I lowered myself to the pillow, glaring at Darren the whole way down and sat back on my heels. He wore a smug little smile on his face as he unbuttoned his jacket and took his seat in the chair next to me. He was so getting the cold shoulder tonight. I couldn’t believe he was going to let me be degraded like this. Just because this asshole treated his women like this didn’t mean I had to be subjected to it. I could see the lesson in humility and Darren’s gracious generosity. He might be a self-serving, sadistic, killer crime lord, but at least he let me sit at the fucking dinner table.

Point made.

Darren and Matt began to engage in conversation, mostly about football for some reason, and I had no interest in paying attention to that shit. It was quickly forgotten when I looked across the way from under the table and saw a young blonde kneeling on a similar cushion next to Matt. His poor little slave. But my eyes nearly bulged out of my head while my heart stopped in its tracks when I suddenly recognized the blonde. Kayla.

Holy fuck, she was alive! She was alive, and she was right in front of me, looking right back at me as if she were looking at a ghost. I forced myself to quiet the strangled noise that nearly left my mouth as I leaned forward. My body reached for her, but the heavy palm that shot down to grip my shoulders abruptly stopped me.

My head snapped up to Darren to be met with a serious scowl, and a slow shake of his head, a reminder that I was not to move or speak without his permission and fucking that up would mean days in that fucking cage again. And I was not going back there. But I couldn’t stop my eyes from burning with rage as I realized that Darren had known the entire time where Kayla was and he never told me. Never cared to share that his best friend was her new owner. I felt murder in my veins. But instead of acting out, I released a slow, heavy breath and calmed my shit.

I felt my stomach knot up as I tried to catch my breath while relief and terror came crumbling down my spine. I kept myself very still and just concentrated on Kayla’s face, hoping to God she was okay, but if this Matthew Rainer was anything like Darren, I knew she wasn’t.

“Are you okay?” I mouthed quietly to her, hoping she could see my movements under the table.

She gave me a sad smile and just blinked. She was obviously terrified to move.

As dinner was served, I wondered if Kayla and I would be eating at all, but at this point, I wasn’t interested in food. I wanted to crawl across the floor and hug her until she was nothing but crushed bits in my arms. That was when Darren tapped my shoulder, and I looked up at him with my stupidly sad doughy eyes. I couldn’t contain them.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, ignoring my small sign of distress. And then I realized he held a fork with a small piece of meat on it. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth, and he placed the fork inside. I wrapped my lips around the meat and chewed. It was a pot roast, and the meat melted against my tongue as I swallowed. I looked over to see that Kayla was receiving the same treatment.

Throughout the entire dinner, Darren continued to feed me until he was satisfied I had enough, which was much more than I was capable. By the time dinner was done, I had thought I would burst. I found it difficult to concentrate on their conversation with my only interest being Kayla.

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