Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Roselia relaxed into the seat a bit more when she noticed Stefano's shoulders lowering. She kept her hands clasped between her thighs, rubbing them together. "What do you think will happen when Leo finds me missing?" This was her primary concern.

"It's hard to say. He'll be furious."

She chuckled sardonically. "The man gets furious when his eggs are too runny. The next day, he gets furious when they aren't runny enough. After he has his tantrum, I mean," Roselia continued, staring at Stefano's profile.

"I can't imagine he'll call the police. He can't exactly report a missing slave."

She slowly nodded. "True." She hesitated and then asked, "Do you think there's like a return policy in his contract or some sort of guarantee?"

"His contract with whom?" Stefano asked, glancing at her.

"With Master J, the man who trained me and sold me." She needed to tell him what had happened to her, but it was so raw and painful right now.

Stefano gripped the steering wheel tighter. "When was this?"

"About four months ago."

He reached over and set his hand on her thigh, not commenting. Maybe he didn't want to pressure her, or maybe he didn't want to hear what had happened.

After several minutes, he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sure I'm not giving you what you need right now. I want to hold you, but I also want to get us the fuck out of Denver. When we get to safety, I'm going to hold you for ten solid days, and you can tell me everything you want."

"I don't have to if you'd rather not hear it," she murmured.

Stefano shot her a quick glance. "Sweetheart, I want to hear every detail. Telling your story will help you purge it from your system. Plus, it will help me understand and know better how to help you."

"Okay." He seemed sincere. She wasn't at all sure she could tell anyone most of what she'd endured. Her entire body shuddered at the thought. Most humans wouldn't be able to believe it. Would Stefano?

Stefano seemed deep in thought for a while. Finally, he squeezed her leg again. "I doubt there's a refund for escaped slaves. I have to assume the purchase of human beings is final and not refundable."

He was mostly being serious because she'd asked, but it was hard not to smile at the absurdity of this conversation.

He shot her a wry grin, too. "I can't picture any recourse Leo has. He can't call the authorities, and it seems unlikely he would call the man who sold you either. And say what? ‘My slave outsmarted me and escaped'?"

Roselia's entire body shook with fear.

Stefano looked at her again. "What's wrong?"

"Master J made it very clear before the auction that if he ever heard a complaint about any of us, he would hunt us down and make us wish we'd heeded his advice." She tried not to cry. Not again. Not now. Not while Stefano was driving. Her crying stressed him out.

Stefano flipped his hand over so his palm was up. "Give me your hand, sweetheart. And scoot closer to me. You're killing me over there."

She pulled her hands out from between her thighs, threaded her fingers with his, and leaned as close to the console as the seatbelt would allow.

"Better. Not ideal, but better." He lifted her knuckles to his lips and kissed them without taking his eyes off the road. "Listen to me, sweetheart. I've only been in love one other time, and I failed her." His voice cracked.

Roselia held her breath, her heart aching for the pain she could hear in his voice and see on his face.

He didn't look at her as he spoke. He cleared his throat and continued, "I failed her, but I will not fail you. No one is going to find you. No one is ever going to fucking touch you again."

He spoke with such conviction that she believed him. "Okay." She wondered what the hell they would do for money. They couldn't live on the run for very long. He probably had some money saved from working for Santo, but how much? And how would he access it? He couldn't risk going to a bank and making a withdrawal, nor could he use a credit card. She was smart enough to know those facts, but she didn't ask because she didn't want to bring up even more stressful subjects while he was driving.

He held her hand for the rest of the trip, and she scooted close enough to lean her head on his shoulder. She kept rubbing her neck with her other hand. She felt so much lighter without the collar. The relief from that alone was overwhelming.

She didn't bother him again while he was driving. She knew he was trying to concentrate and take care of her at the same time.

Her mind was spinning from this unlikely development. This man she'd had a crush on for almost four years had actually been eyeing her, too? It was hard to believe. What if she hadn't been kidnapped eight months ago? Would he have taken her on a date at some point?

She felt like such a child compared to him. It was hard to believe he saw her as an adult. He'd made it clear, though, that this wasn't a pity situation for some girl he thought of as a child. He was actually attracted to her.

Roselia didn't ask questions as he pulled off the highway and wound his way up the mountain. Eventually, he turned onto an even more obscure road and stopped.

He turned toward her. "I'm going to check in and get the keys. Again, I hate to leave you, but I think it would be best if no one saw you. Just in case."

She nodded, righted herself, unfastened her seatbelt, and slid down onto the floor where she'd waited for him at her apartment.

His brows were furrowed, and he looked troubled. It was obvious he hated this, but he also thought it was best. "I'll be quick."

She reached one hand up to the lock button on her side. "I'll lock the door."

As soon as he was gone, she wrapped her arms around her legs and started rocking. She hated being alone. She hated being so needy. When would she feel normal again?

Never .

She would never be able to erase the things that had happened to her. She would never forget. How would she ever be able to function? Get a job?

She'd had dreams. Even after her mother had died and she'd felt hopeless, she'd continued to save as much money as she could, not letting go of her plans to go to community college.

That seemed so long ago. She'd never be able to go to college now. In the blink of an eye, she was too damaged to do something that outgoing. She was nearly hyperventilating, sitting in the floorboard of Stefano's car. How would she be able to attend classes?

Or even sleep alone?

Roselia had been in her own apartment, with the doors locked, when someone had broken in and kidnapped her. She would never feel safe again except, maybe, with Stefano. But he couldn't be with her forever.

He'd spoken to her as if they were now a couple, and he intended to be with her, but she knew in her head that wasn't realistic. He would need to go back to work. She would also need to get a job. She was going to exasperate him with her neediness.

Roselia had known even at twenty-one that she'd been unworldly. She'd spent so much time with no one but her mother that she hadn't had many of the experiences girls her age had. She hadn't dated or gone out with friends in high school. She'd studied hard and taken care of the apartment so that her mother wouldn't have to when she got home from a long day cleaning someone else's house.

Now? Now, Roselia had experienced things no one should ever experience. A wild assortment of exposures that confused her and made her see the world through a new lens.

She was scared. Damaged. Too much trouble for Stefano.

For now, she had no alternative but to rely on him for help and be grateful he was willing to do this for her. Had he really just left town with no intention of ever returning to his job? That was mind-boggling.

A knock on the window made her jump. Heart racing, she glanced up to see Stefano, and she scrambled to reach for the lock button.

He climbed in as she crawled out from under the glove compartment.

He held up a set of keys. "We're set."

She grabbed his hand. "I can't thank you enough," she repeated.

He cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead. "You don't have to, sweetheart." When he released her, he put the SUV in reverse and backed out of the small lot. Five minutes later, he pulled up to a cabin.

If she'd been in her right mind, she was sure she would have been excited. The cabin was quaint and inviting, but Roselia was in such a panic she couldn't appreciate it.

"Let's get you inside. The owner said there's a wood-burning fireplace. I'll get it going. We'll pile you under blankets and get you warmed up. You haven't stopped shivering since I pulled you out of bed."

"I've been shivering for months," she murmured.

Stefano jumped down from his side and rounded the vehicle to help her out. He took her hand and led her to the cabin. As soon as he had it unlocked and open, he bent to examine the lock. "It's not ideal, but not the worst," he muttered.

She followed him inside. It was chilly.

Stefano hurried over to the thermostat, and seconds later, the heat kicked on. "It will take a bit to warm up in here." He pointed toward the sofa. "Sit. I'll grab our things."

She stood rooted to her spot, taking in her surroundings. It was truly the cutest place she'd ever seen, obviously meant for a comfortable, romantic getaway. The walls were dark wood, meant to look rustic. The furniture was all browns and dark greens. The living room and kitchen were all one space.

There were two doors on the right. They were both open, and she could see one was a bedroom and the other a bathroom. She was secretly relieved to see only one bedroom. The thought of Stefano suggesting she sleep alone in her own room made her stomach tighten. She would be too scared to do that.

"Rose?"

She jerked her gaze to his as it occurred to her that he'd told her to sit. "I'm sorry." She hurried toward the sofa.

Stefano beat her there and stepped in front of her, preventing her from sitting. He lifted her chin.

She was scared out of her mind.

"Sweetheart, I was only worried about you. I didn't mean to imply you had to sit. You never have to do anything you don't want to do, and certainly, you don't have to obey me."

She swallowed. That had been exactly what she'd been thinking. He'd given her an order, and she hadn't complied. She leaned her head against his chest.

He rubbed her arms. "It's okay. We're going to figure it out together. Sit if you want. Stand if you want. Scream if you want. I will not judge you."

She drew in a breath. "Not gonna lie. The idea of screaming sounds appealing."

He smiled. "Maybe go do it into a pillow. I'm not positive how close we are to the next cabin, and we don't want anyone to call the police."

"Good point." She glanced at the couch. "I'll just sit." She hadn't sat on a piece of furniture for eight months. It was going to feel strange. She perched on the edge, telling herself it was because her backside was on fire in some places. If she sat carefully and didn't move too much, she would only irritate two of the welts.

She felt odd sitting, as if she was breaking the rules.

Stefano worked quickly to get a fire going in front of her before he ran back outside and made a few trips getting their things into the cabin. He took most of it to the bedroom.

Eventually, Roselia eased back into the cushions, kicked off her shoes, and pulled her legs up so she could hug her knees.

Stefano sat next to her a few minutes later, propping his laptop on his thighs. "The owner said we can place a grocery order, and the local store in town will deliver. We can even use cash. I told him my credit card was recently stolen, and the new one hasn't come yet."

Her stomach grumbled. "I guess I'm hungry."

"I should have stopped and picked up fast food. I'm sorry. I was singularly focused on getting here." He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"It's okay. I'm not complaining. I won't starve. Lord knows I've gone without food before." She looked away to stare at the floor, shuddering at the number of times she'd gone without eating in her life.

Stefano clicked away on the screen. "Okay, help me out here, sweetheart. Tell me what you like."

"I'm not picky," she whispered before she looked at him. "Please don't get oatmeal."

"Okay, no oatmeal. Eggs? Bacon? Ham? Sausage?"

Her mouth watered. "Yes, please."

"Bread and lunchmeat and cheese for sandwiches?"

"Sounds like heaven."

He released the computer to stroke her cheek again. "I'll just order a bunch of stuff. We can always do it again if we need to."

She tipped her head into his palm. "Thank you. I can't think about specific foods right now. I don't even care. I'm still finding it hard to believe I'm here."

"Understood." He returned his focus to the computer for several minutes before declaring, "Done. It will be here in two hours. I know you're hungry. I'll fix us some breakfast as soon as it arrives."

"I'll be fine." It wasn't even seven in the morning yet. She was used to being up at five and doing a lot of work before she ate breakfast, which usually consisted of whatever her Master hadn't eaten from the dishes she'd served him.

"There's complimentary coffee in the kitchen. How about if I make a couple of cups?"

She looked at him and slowly nodded.

He frowned. "Rose… You better not be nodding acceptance if you don't even like coffee."

"I've never tried it," she admitted. "My mother drank tea. We never had coffee in the house. And then… Well, I wasn't ever allowed to drink it after that."

He grabbed her hand. "Let's go make some then. You can try it. If you don't like it, I bet there's tea. I wasn't sure how you might take your coffee, so I ordered a few flavored creamers with the groceries."

She rose quickly. "I can do it for you."

He tugged her hand, pulling her back, stopping her. "You're not my maid. You're not my slave. Did you do all the cooking and cleaning for that asshole?"

"Yes."

"Then you're done cooking and cleaning. I bet you've been cooking and cleaning your entire life. You worked long hours doing so for Santo, too. No more."

She gasped.

He chuckled. "You can supervise and tell me if I'm doing shit wrong." He nodded toward the kitchen area.

She followed him with her fingers gripping his. "It's all I know, Stefano."

"That's not true." He grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the counter next to the coffee pot, surprising her. "I know you're a huge reader. Every time you were on a break, you had your head in a book. Your apartment was filled with books. Mostly non-fiction. I bet you know more about some subjects than people with college degrees."

She certainly didn't know as much as he was giving her credit for, and she looked around the room, wondering if there were any books. None. Her shoulders dropped. She hadn't read a book since she'd been abducted. Vanderbilt had put books on her shelf, but none of them had interested her; besides, she'd been too tired at night to care about reading.

He followed her gaze and then smiled. "I have a surprise for you."

She jerked her attention to him. A surprise?

"Let me get this coffee going, and then I'll show you."

She watched, feeling helpless as he started the coffee. It was so weird having a man prepare his own coffee, especially while she watched.

As it percolated, he patted her thigh. "Be right back."

He grabbed his satchel from the kitchen table and carried it over. Her surprise was inside his satchel…?

He reached his hand in and then looked at her. "Okay, this feels a bit anticlimactic. It's not that exciting. It's not like I bought this for you, but I want you to have it. I'll get you a new one as soon as possible, but for now, you can have mine."

She furrowed her brows. "Stefano, what is it?"

He pulled out a tablet and handed it to her.

She took it, confused. "A tablet?"

"We can load it with whatever books your heart desires."

Her heart stopped as she realized what this was. She'd seen people using them, but she'd never had one. She hadn't even had a cell phone. She pulled it close to her body and hugged it, fighting back tears.

Stefano lifted her chin. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I'm sorry." She dashed them away with her free hand.

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. Cry all you want. I just hate being the cause. Does the tablet bring back a bad memory?"

She shook her head, struggling for words. "It's the nicest thing anyone's ever given me."

"A used tablet?"

She pursed her lips and tipped the tablet back. "Does it really hold any book I want?" she whispered.

"Anything your heart desires. As many books as you want."

"How many?" She lifted her gaze. She really didn't know that much about eReaders.

"Thousands, sweetheart. I don't think there's a limit. They hover in a cloud until you want them."

She knew about computers. Even though she hadn't owned one, she'd used them at school. She'd been lucky enough to have an advisor who'd seen potential in her and had helped her get supplies and things she'd needed.

Roselia's mother hadn't gone past the third grade, and she'd not been particularly supportive of Roselia's education, so Roselia hadn't wanted to ask her to purchase supplies. She'd made do with whatever she could.

Mr. Edmonson, her advisor, had let her come to his office after school every day and do her assignments on his laptop. He'd offered to let her take it home dozens of times, but she hadn't wanted to risk dropping it, so she'd turned him down.

"So, it's like a small computer?" she asked.

"Yes. It can do most of the same things." He pushed a button on the side. It came to life. Then he leaned over her and tapped the screen several times. Suddenly, a list of books popped up. "I'm sure most of these won't interest you, but you can use this search bar to find what you want to read and download it."

"But they cost money."

"Not much, sweetheart. A few dollars." He stroked her cheek. "I can afford ebooks, Rose."

"But it's linked to a credit card, right? You don't want me to use a credit card."

He stepped closer to her, as if that was possible, and settled his hands on her hips. "I don't want to use credit cards to pay for the cabin or the groceries so that no one can see my name. It will be fine to use it for books, sweetheart."

"Oh, right. Okay." She ran a finger along the edge of the device. "I haven't read a book in a long time," she whispered.

"Then you must be dying to open one."

"Vanderbilt stocked my room with books. When I first arrived and he was giving me a tour, he said I could read in my free time." She lifted her gaze. "The second evening, I sat on the floor and looked at all the titles. They made me break out in hives. I never touched them. Besides, I never had free time. That had been a lie."

"I'm sorry." His hands moved to her cheeks. "Now, you'll have all the free time you want. You're going to sleep, eat, and relax. Read anything you want."

She shuddered as she recalled those books. They'd seem to mock her every time she'd come into the room.

"What were those books?" Stefano asked. "Stephen King or something?"

"I wish. More like Slave Positions: A Guide. Disciplining Your Wayward Slave. Corporal Punishment Guaranteed to Keep Your Slave in Line ."

His jaw went tight.

The coffee sputtered, indicating the pot was full.

Drawing in a breath, he kissed her forehead and turned toward the pot. He pulled two mugs from the rack on the counter, filled them both with coffee, and held one out to her. "Try it black, so you'll know what it tastes like. Don't be surprised if you don't like it. We'll add cream and sugar after you taste it."

She took it from him. The mug warmed her hands. The scent was enticing, but she wasn't sure about the taste yet.

"Be careful not to burn your mouth, sweetheart."

She smiled at him. He had no idea how much his kindness meant to her. And every time he used that endearment, she swooned.

Finally, she blew on it and took a small sip. Her nose curled up. "Bleh."

He chuckled and took it from her. "See? I didn't figure you'd like it black."

"Why would anyone drink that?" It seemed like all the men she'd encountered drank black coffee as though it were an elixir.

He shrugged. "It's an acquired taste." He opened three sugar packets and dumped them in before adding three small creamers. After finding a spoon in a drawer, he stirred it. The mixture turned a creamy color.

"Try it again," he encouraged.

She took another sip. Mmm . And another. "Yep. That's better."

"More cream? More sugar?"

"It's pretty sweet. How about more cream?"

He took it back, added three more, stirred, and returned it to her hands. Now, it was a much lighter color.

She drank some and grinned. "I might like it."

"If not, you won't hurt my feelings, Rose. We can always make tea. There's a few teabags here." He held up three.

She sipped the coffee. "I'm going to give this a try. Thank you."

He took it from her, set it on the counter, and lifted her to set her on her feet again. "Can I look at the welts again, sweetheart? I'd like to put more ointment on them so they don't scar."

"Okay." She didn't think they would scar. This wasn't the first time she'd been beaten this hard. Her Master hadn't wanted to permanently mar her skin. He'd enjoyed the power too much to restrain himself. That's why he'd repeatedly invented misbehaviors so he could discipline her. But he'd liked to look at her naked body too much to permanently mark it.

However, Stefano didn't know all that, and she didn't feel like telling him. So when he pulled the ointment out of his pocket, she turned toward the counter and set her hands on the edge.

He lifted her shirt. "Hold this up for me, Rose." He gently lowered her pants to her knees next.

She held her breath as he rubbed the cream along all four welts. His touch was so gentle and caring. It reached deep inside her and reminded her of her humanity.

"Does it hurt that bad, sweetheart?"

She shook her head.

"You're crying." He eased her pants back up and turned her around.

She pursed her lips, unable to express her feelings.

"Am I embarrassing you? I don't want to make you feel like you don't have choices."

She shook her head. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

He wiped her tears. He looked sick.

She needed to explain. "You're so kind."

He swallowed. "I'm just human. You're used to monsters."

"There are a lot of monsters in the world."

"Yeah. Unfortunately. But I'm not one of them. I will never intentionally hurt you, sweetheart." He held up the ointment. "Do you want to do the front? I'll look away."

She shook her head again. "You do it." Her arms were shaking, but she lifted the sweatshirt and the T-shirt up to her neck, holding it out of the way.

Stefano set his forehead against hers before kissing the same spot. "You're so brave."

"I'm not. I was close to diving out the third-story window. I probably would have a dozen times by now if it hadn't been too high for me to reach."

He nodded as if he understood and wouldn't judge her for her thoughts. "I'm glad that man lost his phone in the couch then. The world would be a horrible place without you in it." He squatted in front of her and gently rubbed the ointment into the lines across her breasts before taking the shirt from her grip and lowering it.

"Thank you. That does feel better."

"Anytime." He handed her the coffee. "Drink this, and then you should nap while we wait for the groceries."

They returned to the couch, where she sipped the coffee until it was almost gone. After he took the mug from her and set it on the coffee table, he patted his lap. "Lie down and put your head on my thighs."

She curled up on her side next to him, relaxed her cheek against his lap, and released a long breath.

He pulled a quilt from the back of the couch and draped it over her. "Rest, sweetheart. I'm right here."

She was so warm and comfortable that she easily fell asleep.