Page 30 of Volatile Waters

There was no denying how brave he was trying to be. Unfortunately, there was no time to appreciate it. Across the room, a woman was frantically trying to open my bedroom window, not knowing that they had been designed to prevent slaves from escaping. As soon as she heard us, she peered over her shoulder then rushed from the window, slamming her back against the nearest wall. Then she shimmied as far away from me as possible, into a corner. Her dark hair stuck to the stucco of my wall, her expression filled with desperation. In Russian, she told me, “This is not what I signed up for. Release me.”

Exhaling, because I was far too tired for a panicked new slave, I pulled keys from my slacks and locked my bedroom door. It was the only way to get rest when having a slave or slaves in my room with me through the night. Escaping was not part of their training; only fucking, sucking, and obedience.

After the door was secure, I gestured for Harry to sit in a lounge chair in the opposite corner of the frantic woman. His chest was panting as hard as hers while he stared at the locked door. Disobedience in my bedroom was not permitted, so I sternly commanded, “Now.”

Junior jolted, then locked stares with the woman, almost tripping over his own feet as he rushed toward the chair. “W-Why is she so scared?” He didn’t speak Russian yet, but you didn’t need to in order to recognize pure fright—something he was also presently experiencing.

In Russian, I replied to the woman with brown eyes, “What you signed up for?” No abductees ever had signed up for such vile treatment. I slowly walked to my bed and removed my blazer.

Her gaze rushed to monitor my movements, which is exactly why I was moving in a calm manner. With her hands gripping the wall behind her, she swallowed. “The dangerous situation I asked for.”

Neatly laying my jacket on the bed, I lifted a brow and smirked. “Danger you have found, Pet.”

“Rainbow!”

Hiking one leg up, I casually sat on the edge of the mattress, my smirk now forming into a very entertained smile. “Rainbow?”

Her shoulders heaved with her labored breathing. “My mercy plea.”

I shrugged. “No such thing as mercy exists here.”

She suddenly, angrily, screamed, “Rainbow!”

Harry pushed back against the chair he was sitting in, clearly desiring distance from the situation he was far from understanding.

Coolly, I pointed to him, while telling the woman, “You are scaring the child.”

To know what kind of person I was dealing with, I studied her reaction. After observing Junior, she immediately tried to compose herself. It was shocking how quickly she was able to calm herself for appearance’s sake. This told me her line of work was a stressful one. She was far too accustomed to immediate role reversal. She inhaled through her nose then stood, no longer leaning against the wall she had viewed as a safety net. Even her tone had changed dramatically, as the woman told Harry, “I’m sorry. There has just been a misunderstanding. Please, do not be afraid.”

Harry looked at me, clueless of what was spoken to him due to the language barrier. I raised a hand to him, asking for silence, but asked the woman, “Your profession?”

Her shoulders proudly set back. “I am a nurse.” Her gaze dropped to my bloodied shirt.

My eyes tiredly closed. This was making much more sense now. Father had kidnapped this woman to help with my stab wound. I knew this meant Uncle was out of town. Reopening my eyes, I stood. She slammed her back to the wall, not sure where to run. Exhaling, I raised both palms to show a truce. It was a false truce, but exhaustion had me temporarily bending the rules.

She eased before nodding in surrender.

I patted my chest, over the red blotch. “You are here for this.” I gestured to the bathroom door. “Will you join me?”

Attempting to smile at Harry to keep him calm, yet epically failing as her lips trembled, she started toward me. “The door is locked?”

I nodded. “Yes. You saw me lock it.”

She shook her head and pointed to the bathroom. “No. That one.”

Reaching back into my pocket, I explained, “That must be due to having medical supplies present.”

We both headed to the bathroom door, the woman behind me. I strategically did this to earn her trust.

“Yury?”

As I turned to face my American guest, who was confused by the whole conversation in Russian, the woman backed away, continuing to watch my every move. Now, I was inhaling for patience. I had not given her permission to move. Trying not to lock my jaw, I told Harry, “It is okay. She is a nurse. I was… stabbedyesterday,” by your mother, “and need to have it looked after.”

In the bathroom, the nurse took in her surroundings. My bathroom was large. To the right, after entering, was the long counter with two sinks, and a mirror covered the whole wall. To the left was a walk-in shower with tan marble and glass walls. Straight ahead was a large sunken Jacuzzi tub. In the left corner, between the tub and shower, was the toilet. It was best to have it exposed to gain control over my slaves while training. Most of the coloring was beige because I found it soothing—something needed after a long day in the basement—for both me and my pets.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, I pointed to the ample amount of medical supplies in a box, then removed my white button-down. “What is your name?”

The nurse fingered through the necessities while telling me, “I wish to keep my name private.”