Chapter 22 PAIGE

Chapter 22

PAIGE

Something has changed.

I watch him stalk around the room, his attention turned inward, his mouth curved down in concentration. Usually he constantly stares at me, challenging me with his gaze. Now he seems to have almost forgotten about me.

I shift in the large dog crate, my legs starting to cramp and my stomach twinging with hunger pains. He's forgotten my breakfast; that hasn't happened before. He gets a lot of pleasure out of feeding me. His favorite way is to cover my eyes and tie up my hands, putting me at his mercy for food. I clear my throat and his gaze shifts to me. I glimpse the surprise in his eyes before I look down.

"I'm hungry, Master," I say in a docile voice, staring at the floor.

"Good girl," he says. He strides to the crate and unlocks it with the key from his pocket. He flings open the little door. "Get your own breakfast today," he says. "There's yogurt in the fridge." He stalks out of the room.

Relief and fear swamp me.

Is this a trick?

He's played tricks on me before, testing my obedience, punishing me when I misunderstand. I stay in the crate for ten minutes more, running his command through my head, analyzing it from every direction, searching for a hidden meaning. But I can't find one.

Am I really able to get my own food?

I inch out of the crate and automatically slip on the high heels. The shoes are a rule. I touch the pink bows in my two ponytails, checking that they are straight. There are no mirrors in the home, and I wonder if I look acceptable. I apply the required pink lipstick by feel, then I stand and blood rushes back to my legs, making me waver.

Will he punish me?

I've never been allowed to move about the house on my own. A TV show sounds from the living room, and I take a few unsteady steps to the doorway and recognize the voices from a rerun of Modern Family. Tears smart as memories of my family watching it together wash through me. Dad would do perfect impressions of all the characters, making Finn and me roar with laughter.

Why did I leave home?

Because I'd thought my parents were overprotective bores. But now I'd give anything to hear my dad imitate Mitch and Cam.

I take a deep breath and move down the hallway, one hand bracing against the wall. As usual, I'm naked except for the dog collar. I pause at the hallway's end, scanning the large room with the kitchen to my right. All the windows have indoor shutters, which are locked. No chance of a neighbor seeing me wave for attention. He is on the sofa, the back of his head to me, his bare feet propped up on an ottoman.

He ignores me.

But I have no doubts that he knows exactly where I am.

My gaze goes to the front door with its three heavy bolts, and I imagine making a dash for the door, tearing down the street, screaming my head off.

Someone would stop for me, right?

Heat fills my face as I realize I'd be naked in the street. Strangers would see me.

Do I care?

His focus is on his phone as he taps rapidly on its screen.

Jealousy surges through me.

Is he messaging another woman the same promises he made me?

Anger at myself sweeps away the ridiculous split second of jealousy. I hate him. I don't care what he does. He abuses me and lies to me. If he's distracted by another woman, that's less focus on me.

Will he send me home if he finds someone else?

For the first time, a flicker of hope appears, and I urgently pray that he is finished with me. I'll call my parents and get money for a flight home. I could be back in Oregon for fall term. Optimism fills me as I walk silently to the fridge, careful not to disturb him. I can stick out the situation a little longer if it means going home soon.

I open the fridge door and stare, reality sinking in.

I'm going to die.