Page 43 of Reclaimed

“Wait one second, Callie.”

Ray stood and looped a thin silver chain around my neck. I recognised it immediately. It was the necklace he had given me for my eighteenth birthday – a thin silver chain with a black circular pendant subtly representing a collar. I’d got such a kick out of wearing it out and about without anyone knowing its true meaning.

“How did you get this?”

“Your jewellery box. When you were brought back to me. I knew you’d have kept it.” I know I should have felt creeped out by what he said, but I felt inexplicably overjoyed to see it again, and to have some mark of his ownership to wear while he was away. It felt almost enough to protect me from anything Mark might try to do, as if it wouldn’t allow anyone other than my Master to touch me. I threw my arms around him.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Everything you do for him you’re doing for me, understand?” I nodded. “Come on then, little one.”

The man who stepped through the door was exactly as I remembered. He was more physically imposing than Ray and wore the same inscrutable expression on his face that I always pictured him with. His eyes found me almost immediately as he entered the house, but he simply nodded a greeting at me before turning back to murmur something to Ray. I felt awkward as hell standing there almost unacknowledged while the men exchanged a few quiet words. I followed them over to the sofa, trying to remember everything Ray had told me.

“W-would you like anything to drink…” In such a short space of time, I’d become so used to calling Ray Master that it sounded odd to me not to address Mark in any particular way.

“Sir,” added Ray. I hesitated for a moment but then tried to make sure my shock didn’t show on my face.

“Sir.”

“A beer. Please,” Mark muttered gruffly.

“Master?”

“No, thank you, pet. Just Mark’s beer and whatever you would like.”

Grateful for a reason to leave the room, I hurried out into the kitchen to get the drinks. I can do this, I thought. I’m sure he won’t demand much from me. How can he if he hardly ever speaks? I’ll just be polite and respectful to this man for a couple of days, avoid him as much as possible, and then Ray will be back, and it’ll just be the two of us again. I fetched Mark’s beer and poured myself a large glass of wine.

When I re-entered the living room it was evident that the two men had abruptly ceased their discussion. I pretended not to notice, but the air felt uncomfortable. Mark didn’t even glance at me as I set his drink down on the table, and he kept his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. If he’d ever had any interest in me in the past, it had vanished completely now. I sat down beside Ray, and he immediately wrapped a comforting arm around me. I stayed silent while the two of them made small talk. I tried to focus on the warmth of Ray’s body, as if I could somehow store it up to keep me reassured when he was gone. I started shaking again when the time came for Ray to leave. He held me close and made me promise again that I’d be good.

“Two nights, angel, maybe less.” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without letting my emotions show. “Look after her.” He said the words almost sternly to Mark.

“Of course,” replied Mark. “Be careful.”

What did he mean by that? I’d assumed Ray was going away for something work-related, but then why the warning? I wanted to ask him but knew Ray would not appreciate my questioning him. He wouldn’t tell me the truth anyway.

And then the door was closed, and I was alone with Mark. I could feel his eyes on me and gave him a weak smile.

“He’ll be alright.”

I nodded, trying desperately not to cry in front of this man.

“What time would you like your dinner, sir?” I managed to ask in a whisper.

“Seven will do.”

I escaped into the kitchen and let a few tears escape before I pulled myself together and started preparing the meal. When Ray had first told me I’d be cooking for Mark, I had felt slightly indignant, but now I was grateful to have a task to focus on and an excuse to be out of his company. I made sure to pace myself on the wine; I didn’t want to make any mistakes. I was concentrating all my energy on just pleasing this man as best I could.

I heard the clink of bottles in the fridge and started, nearly slicing through my own fingers. Mark had come in to get another beer. I kicked myself mentally; I should have thought of that.

“Sorry, sir, I should have checked—”

“I can get my own beer.”

“Of course.” I turned back to what I was doing and expected that he would return to the living room, but he leant back against the fridge and simply watched me working. I felt uneasy under his gaze and suddenly found it much harder to concentrate.

“Do you usually cook for Ray?”

I couldn’t see why he’d be interested in that, but I wanted to be as agreeable as possible. “Ray… Master usually cooks. He’s so good at it.”

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