Page 4 of Master B-0361

“I’m here for a pickup.”

“Master Number?”

“Three-sixty-one.”

The guard pressed buttons, his eyes lifting to take in my face to see if it matched my identity.

“Slave b-eight-forty-two?”

“That’s right.”

He hit more buttons.

“They’re finishing programing your code word now. It shouldn’t be much longer. Would you like your slave’s information?”

Last auction I hadn’t cared, and most guards didn’t even ask, but I couldn’t help the pause the question gave me.

“Email it over to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I stepped back, heading to the closest sofa but not sitting down. I paced. I debated on when I should introduce my two slaves. My mind stayed busy. When the door opened andeight-forty-twoemerged with a guard, I didn’t waste my time playing nice. I reached for her bicep, taking solid hold as I nodded to the guards.

“I’m not going to run.”

My hand stayed firmly around her. “You’re thinking about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll do it.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t, either.”

Brown eyes cut to me, but she stayed quiet as I led her through the halls and into the main lobby area that held the elevator. More people were collected in the large room, lounging on the sofas and laughing through their intoxicated conversations. I hit the button for the elevator, sighing in relief as I led us on without anyone joining. Only then did I let go, but I pulled her a step closer as I did.

“You have abandonment issues.”

My mouth opened the slightest amount as I turned to her. The accusation was quiet, but I hadn’t missed it.

“What are you, a fucking shrink?”

“No. But I’ve taken classes and been to enough of them throughout my life to know. Your lack of trust is obvious.”

“Well, so is your lack of freedom, so spare me the analysis.”

More silence. It had her as stiff as a statue next to me as seconds passed. The door opened, and she lifted her arm for me to take. No judgement. No arrogance. She was trying to put me at ease, but I didn’t like it.

“Walk.If you run?—”

“You’ll kill me. It’s all they keep telling us.”

She headed out. I followed behind, watching her warily as I tried to measure what I’d seen of her up to this point. I thought she was scared. Nervous, as she’d swayed back and forth on the stage. Even her quick glances portrayed a woman stuck in fight or flight. But if she was afraid, her words didn’t show it. That she kept speaking at all was surprising given my other slaves were either crying or silent.

“This place is huge. Where are we? I know it’s called the Gardens, but where is it located?”

“Third door ahead.”

Her lips twisted at my response.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean by saying you had abandonment issues. I really wasn’t. I have them too. That’s how I know.”