Page 27 of Deviant

She glanced at me with interest. “How is it different?”

I wavered, unsure of how much to tell her. On one hand, having someone to talk to who might understand some of what she’d been through could be comforting. On the other hand…

I didn’t want to scare the shit out of her with all the gory details.

The rush of water drew my attention, and I realized we’d reached a creek. Instead of my phobia sending me into a panicked flight mode, like it would have done last year, I gestured for her to sit cross-legged next to me on the embankment. A quick glance at my phone ensured I still had service.

Rafe had promised an ass stuffed with ginger if I went out of bounds. When it came to my safety, he wouldn’t hold back.

And that right there was exactly what I didn’t know how to explain to Angel.

But her expectant face demanded an answer.

“Well, Rafe is in charge.”

“So he’s your Master?”

“What do you mean bymaster, Angel?”

“You know,” she said, her brows narrowing over blue eyes full of confusion, “the man who owns you.”

Something about her was almost child-like, as if she’d experienced the world through lenses different from the rest of us.

“How old are you?” I asked, guessing she wasn’t a day past eighteen.

“Master said I don’t have an age.”

“And you don’t remember your name?”

Again, she drew her brows together, deep in thought. “Master called me Pet.” She chewed on her lip. “He’s going to be angry with me.”

“How come?”

“For letting New Master give me a name.”

I shook my head, sorrow clogging my throat for a few seconds. “You’re free now, Angel. Whoever hurt you before isn’t going to do it again.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, her lips pinching in distress. “I tried leaving Master once before, but he found me.” Long, dark lashes fluttered over her pale skin, and a tear trickled free. “I don’t want to go back. If New Master will claim me, I won’t have to.” Her expression practically pleaded with me. “New Master is kind.”

“His name is Jax.”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “Men are always called Masters.”

“No. Men are men, and women are women.” A weight dropped to the bottom of my gut, souring my stomach. Angel’s limited vocabulary and conversation skills told me the sicko who’d held her captive did so for a very long time, probably since she was a young child.

The thought that she could have been born into that world…

I was so sickened by the possibility that acid rose in my throat, and for a few nerve-wracking seconds, I thought I might puke.

“Listen to me,” I said, grabbing her hands, ignoring her automatic flinch. She didn’t like to be touched. “There are no masters.” Not unless one got into kink, but that was too far out of her understanding right now.

“Th-there’s not?”

“No. People have names. I’m Alex. Rafe is Rafe. And you know Jax’s name already.” I paused, expecting her to protest, but she didn’t. “Say his name, Angel.”

“J-Jax.” Her gaze wandered, first left then right, as if she expected to be struck down for calling a man by any other name than Master.

“Say it again.”

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