All the Little Raindrops(20)

“No.” She held herself still, willing her body not to respond to the manipulation of her muscles. But, oh God, it felt good. She’d been in a cage for weeks, sleeping on hard cement, hunched over, and contending with stress that most other people had never come close to experiencing.

She hurt everywhere. She’d stopped addressing it, but his hands on her muscles made her extremely aware.

“I believe I will anyway,” he said.

“I’m shocked.”

He laughed softly, and she heard genuine appreciation in the sound.

Her mind was going slightly fuzzy in response to the combination of his melodic voice and kneading hands. That, too, was a pleasure, and one she hadn’t allowed herself since she’d been taken. By necessity, she’d been on high alert, her mind constantly churning with a way she—they—might escape. “Go on then,” she said, and he again produced a deep chuckle that rolled over her skin. “Tell me your story.”

“Did I say it was my story, Noelle? It was relayed to me recently, and it’s one I find vastly interesting.”

“What’s the point of you telling it to me?”

“Does there have to be a point? I’m simply trying to put you at ease.”

“Why?”

“Because it satisfies me. I find pleasure in yours. Some men find fulfillment in hurting others, and some do not.”

“But you’re using me, just like they did, so what’s the difference?”

“I’ll leave that to you to decide,” he said.

That confused her, but she didn’t press it. And maybe he was lying. Maybe his kink was to lure her into relaxation and then spring something terrible on her. She would try to be ready. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d take what she could, too, while she could. Maybe a back massage would better prepare her to fight.

He paused in his machinations, as if expecting something, but then continued, her body sinking into the mattress beneath her. “There was once a man who collected things, very fine things,” he said. “Jewels. Rubies. Emeralds. Diamonds. And he draped them on the women he stole.”

“Stole? What do you mean?”

“He took them, Noelle. Much like you’ve been taken. He took them and he used them.”

“Used them for what?”

“Sex. Violence. But mostly, he took them for power. All those half-drugged girls, naked and draped in gems. They made him feel like a king.”

“If he could afford all those gems, it sounds like he already was a king.”

“Peculiar, isn’t it? Or maybe a better word is gluttonous.”

Gluttonous? What did he mean by that? Her mind defined it for her before she’d even decided to try. Greedy. To want more and more and more. Never enough.

His hands moved down the backs of her arms, kneading and then feathering lightly. She pretended to be merely enduring his touch. How would he know if she wasn’t? Why not take what comfort she could? Wasn’t this the same as the nourishment she was provided each day in the form of bread and water and small treats? Who would she be punishing if she turned away the food? I need it if I’m going to find a way of escape. “Are you a second tier of torture?” she asked. “Here to bore me to death?” He couldn’t read her mind. In this moment, it was one of the only things that was hers.

“On the contrary,” he said, his hands moving over her buttocks, lingering, squeezing gently. She came out of the half trance she’d allowed herself to be lulled into. Of course this wasn’t just a massage. But she’d known that. “Others have told me I’m quite interesting.”

“That’s not exactly the word I would use, considering the circumstances,” she said. Pervert and sicko came to mind.

He only hummed in response, his hands continuing to run over her skin. She distracted herself by going over the plan she and Evan had been discussing for . . . a week? She thought it’d been about a week, though who really knew? Time was somewhat irrelevant where they were. They spoke in staggered strings of words inserted “incorrectly” into simple jingles, leaving out any that were obvious and therefore unnecessary. The, and, if, or.

“Man tie clip. Reflect,” she’d told Evan, meaning the man in the black suit who escorted them to and from their cages wore a silver tie clip that might reflect the keypad at the top of their cages. As she’d sung, she’d pretended to rub a sore spot on her chest where the man wore the clip. Thank God Evan was quick. Thank God he got almost everything she conveyed the very first time. Of course, a little earlier, when the man had come to escort her to the room she was in now, she’d not only been too far back in her cage but he’d been turned slightly so she couldn’t make out the numbers he pressed on her lock, not even one. The rub was that with each chance they had to read the numbers, it meant one of them was being removed and taken here to be further victimized. And yet, it was an outcome they had to hope for nonetheless.

The man was running his short fingernails up and down the backs of her legs, and without her permission, her mind began to drift again, a moan rising in her throat. She swallowed it down as he went on, blathering on probably just to hear himself speak. “Anyway, this man was well equipped to ensure none of his girls got pregnant, but, well, nature is quite adept at asserting her superiority where she can.” One hand kept stroking her leg while the other parted her thighs. “Children were born. Twins. A boy and a girl,” he said, leaning in close to her ear. “They grew up in the house of gems as well. The king had a court, other men with interests such as himself and their offspring. Generations of gluttons raised with the knowledge that they should take as they wanted from those with less and that every whim be satisfied.” He leaned in closer, exhaling the next line on a murmured breath. “But the boy and the girl? They had only each other.”