Page 43 of Desperate Measures
I’m not stronger. I nod slowly. “Okay.”
Jafar doesn’t hesitate. He lifts me into his arms. He always seems to be carrying me, and another time, I’ll have to lay down some ground rules about that, but right now I simply don’t have it in me. I let him carry me back to his room and pull the borrowed clothes from my body. He undresses to the waist but no lower, setting the tone for this interaction. No fucking, then.
Again, that flicker between relief and disappointment. I’m so tangled up, I don’t know which way I’m supposed to go, how I’m supposed to react.
We end up on the bed, me tucked in his lap with the blankets wrapped around both of us. Jafar’s body warms me as much as the blankets do, and I finally, finally manage to relax into him.
“There,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.” His big hand strokes down my back and up again, soothing me. I let my eyes drift shut. Easier to sink into this experience, to let his presence overwhelm my earlier fear. My despair.
Ali is resourceful. I know enough about him to know that. The man didn’t get to be where he’s at now without having a skill set that lends itself to ill deeds. He can frame his narrative as a rescue all he wants, conveniently forgetting that he purchased me from my father, but I know the truth. Not that the truth matters here. It certainly won’t stop Ali from trying for me again. “He’s not going to stop.”
If I’m looking for comforting lies, I’m looking in the wrong place. Jafar sighs. “I know. I have men looking for him right now. It’s not enough, though. I’m going to take up the search personally.”
“No one could have expected him to accomplish this.” I don’t know why I’m defending these faceless men of his. If they’d done their job, Ali would be… What would he be? Dead? Can I really condone murder? I think back to the way he looked at me this morning, to the way he always seemed to look at me.
Yes, I can condone murder. Better him dead than me forced to live within his control.
I don’t know why it’s different with Jafar. As displeased as I am with the way he’s thrust me into these four walls and restricted my ability to move about, there’s now real evidence that I’m not ready for more. I hate that weakness, hate how it hamstrings me when I need to be able to run the most. “Promise me that I can leave when I’m ready.”
His hand pauses in the middle of my back. “Elaborate.”
“You can’t keep me locked up here forever. I’ll hate you. I’ll kill you.” My throat tightens, but I force myself to keep speaking, to draw forth this truth into the minuscule space between us. “Don’t make the same mistake my father did.”
He resumes his slow stroking of my back, but there’s a new tension there. “It would be smart to keep you trapped.”
“You would be working on borrowed time.” I can’t live like this forever. I don’t know what the future holds, but if I wanted to be a dangerous man’s sex toy, I could have married Ali. The thought of his hands on my body sends a shudder through me.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Jafar wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “I recognize that this isn’t ideal for you, but until things are under control, I can’t risk you being hurt.”
If I was a little more idealistic, I’d think he’s expressing concern over my welfare because he cares about me. I know better. The state of my person entirely reflects on Jafar’s power. It did when he dressed me in his shirt and hauled me out of my father’s house over his shoulder. It did when he fingered me in front of the man who holds the territory to the south.
And it did when Ali slipped into my room after I was left without protection.
Business. That’s all I am to Jafar. And a warm woman to sink his cock into and play his games. A symbol of his might.
I push against his chest. “I’d like to sleep now.”
“Baby girl.” He captures my chin and lifts my face. His brows are drawn, and he doesn’t look particularly happy at my attempt to create distance. “What’s going through that head of yours?”
“Nothing but the truth.”
“Tell me.”
Anger blossoms in me, a fragile flower I cultivate as if my life depends on it. My life may not, but my heart does. I let it bleed into my eyes, let him see exactly how torn and battered I feel. “You have access to everything I am. Allow me a private thought from time to time.”
There’s something on his face, a flicker of indecision, as if I’ve surprised him and he doesn’t know the best way to play this. It’s all a game, after all. Jafar may have mentioned marriage, but if he strong-arms me into going through with it, it will be in name only. I almost smile wryly. Well, I don’t imagine we’ll stop fucking, but there will be no love there. No equality.
I deserve better.?2
“Let me go.”
“Baby girl,” he says again, and he sounds just as tired as I feel. “Haven’t you learned by now? Every part of you belongs to me. Your body, your brain, your heart. All mine.”
This time when I push away from him, he allows it. The fact that he allows it, that I can’t do even this on my own, it’s too much. I fight my way off the giant bed and stand on shaking legs. “I don’t belong to you.”
“Yes, you do.”
I turn around and walk away. I have to. If I don’t establish some kind of distance, the smallest kind of distance, right now, then I’m lost forever.
