Page 11 of Skin Trade

“You wish to leave?”

“I might.”

The girl’s gaze flicked to the door leading to Seth, she clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. “I can take you if that is your wish.”

“You’d let me leave?”

“Nobody stays with Sir because they have to.”

“Then why do you stay? Why not just leave?”

The girl simply smiled. “I will be back an hour before sundown. Get some sleep. If you press 353 on the keypad, it will get you straight to my room if you need anything.” She nodded. “Sleep well.”

Chapter Nine

It took several seconds before Payton found it in herself to move. Not that she was frozen or so afraid she’d been rooted to the spot. No. This was the opposite of that. She’d been given freedom and wasn’t sure what she was meant to do with that.

How strange Seth was in both his actions and his manner. He had paid a pretty penny for her, and he was willing just to let her saunter out of the place if she wished? "There's a catch. There's always a catch." She just needed to find what it was. Except that meant asking him and being close to him was not an option.

One of the girls who’d been with her at Creven’s, Butterfly she’d called herself. Payton never knew if that was one of the pet names Creven had given, or if that was what she’d decided to call herself. She’d been nine years old when she’d joined the place, eleven when she tried to escape. The door had been open, but only an idiot would dare try that one. It was a test of loyalty. Everyone knew that and why no one dared to leave.

It had taken months for Butterfly to recover. They’d whipped her feet and ankles until they were so damaged, it wasn’t certain she’d ever be able to walk again. The cries when she'd been brought back, had seared themselves into Payton's memory. Butterfly had been a sagging mess held between two vampires. They’d dumped her in the main hallway and told each girl not to dare help her. Butterfly had crawled, leaving a trail of blood from her feet to her bed. She’d cried the entire time. Screaming her pain into the floor, the room, at anyone, but they’d all stayed still. They’d all watched her with horror and a solidified silent promise to never try and leave themselves.

Maybe that was like this. Perhaps it was a test, but Seth couldn't expect loyalty after less than a day.

He was in the other room, asleep now, or worse, and she found herself having moved and standing in the bathroom to stare at the handle he’d ripped clean out of the hole. Pure, male strength. What had he been like in the time before he was what he was? The man … the Seth who’d existed in another life, another time.

Before she could stop herself, she pushed the door open just enough. Relief was a cold wash inside her stomach when no coital sounds rang through her ears and into her gut. She could tell herself all she wanted that she wasn't bothered. She didn't know this man. Didn't even care for him so much, but it was a lie. From the moment he'd laid the money down for her, instead of being shocked, disgusted, or even afraid, she was intrigued.

Seth slept. He had his blind open, and the lights from the fake outside cast shadows and beams across him … across his more than beautiful face. In sleep, even from where she stood at the door, there was a mischievousness that ran across his features. But there was a smoothness to his features too, all smooth lines and utter perfection. She'd never admit it to him, not in a million years, but he was one of those men who were devastatingly attractive. He already knew it, no doubt, and Payton was not going to inflate his ego any more than she needed to.

A heartbeat later, and she managed to pull herself out of the trance of watching him and put herself back into the reality of her room. “This is a game, isn’t it? See if I’ll leave?”

Maybe it was worth the chance. If it meant she did get away. And if it wasn’t? Well, damn him. She’d see what game he was playing. She just hoped to god she wasn’t the one who’d end up regretting it.

Thankfully, in the piles of clothes she had been left, there were items of underwear, an ordinary t-shirt and Lycra leggings for bed. The dress she wore was tiring, almost like it demanded her to stand straight and act and think like a lady. Being a lady was just an act … a thing Creven had required of her when she was to face people … when he wanted to make a good impression, and not that of a man who preferred the younger flesh.

She changed quickly and tossed the dress onto the bed. They’d also given her hair things—bands, bobbles, elastic ribbons to tie her hair back and clips. She took one of the bands and used it to hold her hair in place after she scooped it up into a bun at the back of her head.

She was doing this, wasn’t she? She was really doing this.

Even as she slipped the trainers on and then tried the door and found it was indeed unlocked, some deep part of her wasn’t for believing it. Any second, the guillotine would come down and cut off her head, spraying her blood all over, for even daring to think she could leave.

Every step was one lie after another. She took them cautiously, tiptoeing across the soft carpets. When she got to the lift and pushed the button to call it, she took a step back and kept herself out of harm's way in case there was anyone there, ready to scoop her up and throw her at Seth's mercy.

When the lift did come, the only person on it was an aged looking vampire. Aged in the fact that he must have been in his sixties when he was turned. He gave Payton a nod and then held the button to keep the doors open.

“Going down?”

“Yes,” she dared to say. When she stepped into the glass square, she put herself into the corner. Not that she’d have been able to escape if this man wanted her. She was human, and he was vampire. He’d have her torn to pieces before they even landed on the next level. “Ground floor please. Or whichever floor the exit is on.”

“Heading out?”

If the doors hadn't closed behind her, she might have stepped back outside. His tone didn't hold any malice, and the paranoia was merely hers because leaving couldn't be this easy. "I thought I might get some air," she dared.

The man only nodded, and then he put his hands behind his back and leaned back to the corner of the elevator. She was up high. The numbers ticked by on the display the same way the explosive emotions counted down ready to burst in her stomach. She was nearly aching with it by the time they got to the ground floor, and she sucked in a breath when the bell dinged, and the man opened the doors.

“Have a good evening, Miss Payton” he said.

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