Page 65 of Gambler's Conceit

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Page 65 of Gambler's Conceit

I startle and sit up.

Caleb is standing in the doorway. Miss K is in his arms, but that wasn’t Miss K’s meow.

Nacho jumps onto the bed and rubs against my arm. I flinch, but Nacho doesn’t care.

“Did that help?” Caleb asks. I can’t tell where he’s looking in the dark and how his glasses reflect the little light in the room.

Did it? I don’t even know.

I just know that I am suddenly, abruptly, exhausted.

I shrug, grabbing the blankets and pulling them over my lap. “Go to bed,” I mumble. “I won’t bother you again.”

“The tea is still warm,” Caleb says calmly. “Come drink it.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want it,” I say, that sullen, ugly streak still alive and well inside of me. “Stop pretending you’re being nice to me. I don’t want your fucking tea. Just chain me to the bed and leave me alone if that’s what you want to do. I don’t care anymore.”

“Judging by how you reacted when I threatened it, I think you do care,” Caleb says. “Anyway, it wasn’t a request. It’s an order.”

“I don’tcare!” I burst out. “Fuck your orders. Fuckyou.” I dissolve into tears again, hating myself for letting him see this side of me but unable to stop it.

Caleb sets Miss K down on the floor and crosses the distance to the bed. He doesn’t say anything as he grips my hand and tugs me out of bed.

I try to dig my feet into the floor, but I’m tired, and I’m having a hard time breathing, and I’m intensely relieved that he hasn’t simply shut the door on me.

“I hate you,” I say between sobs as he leads me back into the main room.

Caleb makes me sit on the couch, then he hands a warm mug to me.

“What do I need to threaten to make sure you don’t throw that?” Caleb asks quietly. “To lock you in the basement?” My breath hitches, and I start to tremble, but he keeps going. “To reach out to the authorities? To give Nacho up for adoption?”

I stare at him as he lists my worst nightmares, and my voice is raspy as I whisper, “Over tea? You’d…”

God, I really do fucking hate him, now more than ever.

Caleb sits down next to me. “How well do you know me? You’re acting out because you want a reaction, but it could be a reaction you don’t want. I told you, besmartwhen negotiating, Seven.”

“I’m not fuckingnegotiating,” I say, tears starting to trail down my cheeks again. Again? I don’t think they ever even stopped. “All I wanted was for you to use me. That’s why I’m here, remember?”

To fuck me, to hurt me, to make the pain inside go away. Not to be threatened with things that would break me.

“If all I cared about was a piece of ass, I could have had plenty of easier ones,” Caleb answers. He takes my hand and forces me to lift the cup up to my lips. “Drink, Seven. I want you to do this.”

“I don’t care what you want,” I say automatically, but I do it anyway. I take a sip of the tea, and it’s warm and aromatic. It should be soothing, but I don’t want to be soothed like this. I don’tlikethis. It’s unsettling and terrifying and all I can think about is Vortex talking about New Bristol and now Caleb talking about locking me away, about giving Nacho up. Not to mention getting the authorities involved, which would be a surefire way to end up back home.

Home.

Maybe that’s what I need after all. At least there, I was on solid ground… except I wasn’t, was I? I never knew what each day would bring.

I drink half the tea before I lower the mug. Caleb takes it from my hand, takes a sip, then sets it aside.

I tense, waiting for another threat, another reprimand.

Just do what you’re told, baby,her voice echoes in my ears.

Fuck. I thought I’d managed to forget her voice. I sob, more tears rolling down my cheeks. I shouldn’t cry. I’m going to get into trouble for crying, for letting my face get blotchy and ugly, but I can’t stop.

Caleb wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. “I love seeing you cry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t.” He kisses my jaw, and I shudder, almost missing the rest of his words. “But I didn’t fuck you because I’m fucking tired, Seven. Not because I don’t want to.”




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