Page 30 of Mine

“That’s different.”

“You’re right.” He set the spoon back into the bowl and put it down on the tray. “There is a big difference between you and your body. Your body, for example, might want the pleasure I have to offer you. Even if you don’t want it yourself.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what he was going to do, but he only sat there next to me, breathing and watching me for a few moments. My fingers moved slightly at my side. I was definitely beginning to get my body back. Maybe I could fake being paralyzed until I had the chance to get at him. If I could jump up and choke him around the neck until he lost consciousness. Then I could run.

Who are you kidding, Sara?I thought.You aren’t a daring hero. What if it doesn’t work? Then he’ll kill you.

No. I was a survivor. I could figure out how to get away. I just had to wait for the right opportunity.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said finally, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Me?”

“I want to know more about how you came to be here.”

“Sure,” I said, breathing deeply. Just having him sit next to me was bringing back the memory of his fingers deep inside of me, and I was fighting to keep the thoughts at bay. I didn’t want him to know how deeply he had affected me with his offer of“pleasure.”

“Start at the beginning.”

“I got a call from my agent. He said that Gary—Mr. Steadhill—wanted someone for a temporary role.”

“No,” Rien said. “I mean, the beginning.”

He leaned over the couch, setting his elbow on the cushion back and resting his cheek against his knuckles. His body touched me, his hip grazing mine, and the heat that spun through my body made my thoughts slow and muddy.

“The beginning?”

“When you were a child. Tell me about your childhood. What led you to acting?”

I frowned, not knowing why he would care at all. The back of his hand idly skimmed along my arm. Immediately I felt myself opening up again to him, wanting his touch. Surely he knew what he was doing to me. But he thought that I was still paralyzed. I licked my lips and began.

“I never knew my dad. He left my mom before I was born. We were poor. I never really had anything. Then my mom got pregnant again with my sister, and wereallydidn’t have anything.”

“By a different man?”

I flushed. I never talked with anyone about this. I didn’t speak about my family much, and in Hollywood nobody asked. Family was unimportant, meaningless, unless you had a connection to a higher-up in one of the studios. Acting families were the only families that mattered.

“Yes,” I said.

“Did you ever know him?”

“No.”

“You don’t like to talk about him?”

“He wasn’t part of our family.”

“Who was he?”

“Nobody.” My skin burned in shame.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Rien said. His fingers gently stroked my arm, going farther up and down with each pass.

“I’m not.”

“Who was he?”

“He was a client,” I spat.

---