Page 32 of Spiders in the Grove

Joaquin waves him off, and the man leaves us standing here. Alone. In the predicament I have been trying to avoid all damn day—but now it’s much worse. Much, much worse.

“What do you want, Joaquin?” I round my chin, channeling fearless Izel, and hoping like hell it’s enough he buys it.

Joaquin cocks his head, and he steps right up to me, his eyes studying me curiously and with hunger—but mostly he wants to know what I was doing in a utility closet with my slave girl.

And I have an answer for him.

“What exactly were you—”

“Privacy doesn’t seem to exist in this place,” I tell him. “Haven’t you ever taken a girl into a closet before?”

Joaquin’s smile is as slippery as he is. “Of course,” he says, glances at Sabine without moving his head, and looks back at me. “But I didn’t expect it of you”—he shrugs smugly—“y’know, having Cesara at your fingertips anytime you want her.”

“What Cesara and I have is different.” I glare into his eyes, daring him to threaten me. “Cesara and I have an understanding.”

“Then Cesara won’t mind if she”—he twirls a hand at the wrist—“just somehow happens to find out that you’ve been getting pleasure from someone other than her.”

“I’m sure she does it all the time,” I come back. “This is just sex. With Cesara, it’s much more than that. And she knows it. Go ahead and tell her, but it’ll only make you look like a jealous, weak, piece of shit.”

His mouth twitches on one side, indicating his annoyance with having to agree with me.

Joaquin’s gaze veers behind me at Sabine.

“You know what,” he says, changing his demeanor, “I don’t believe you.”

Shit.

“You don’t believe what, exactly?”

Shit. Shit. Shit!

He takes another step forward, and so do I, to keep him from getting any closer to Sabine, but he grabs my shoulder, stopping me. He glares into my face, daring me now, to threaten him. “Remember your place, Lydia,” he says coldly. “You’re only alive as long as I allow it; you only deny me for as long as I let you”—he leans in toward my ear—"I’m playing your game because I like it; so don’t mistake my reluctance for weakness. Now. Step. Aside.”

Baring my teeth at him, I do as he says.

He takes Sabine by the arm, never taking his eyes from mine. He lifts her dress, exposing her naked body underneath from the waist down. I know she wants to look at me, hoping I’ll stop him somehow, but she doesn’t because she can’t, and I don’t because I can’t, either.

Joaquin slides his hand between her legs “She’s not wet,” he says, and then crouches in front of her, gazing up at me. “Why isn’t she wet?”

I snarl at him. “Because I heard you coming down the hall, and took that as a sign to stop.”

His hand moving, Sabine’s eyes go from suppressed fear to the onset of pleasure, but she keeps a straight, unemotional face.

He stands, drops her dress back down.

“Remember, Lydia,” he whispers near my ear, placing his wet fingers to my lips. “I’m the one in control here; not you, not Cesara—me.”

Actually, Joaquin, that’s not true, and you know it.

“I will have you—willingly—before this week is over,” he goes on, so sure of himself it makes me laugh inside. “And when I’m done with you, you won’t want anything to do with Cesara, or this dark-haired beauty who’s so easily stimulated.” He puts his fingers in my mouth so I can taste his victory.

“Don’t be late this evening,” he tells me, adjusts the lapel of his suit, “on this night of all nights.” A mysterious grin sneaks up on his face; he turns and walks down the length of the hallway, disappearing around the corner.

On this night of all nights? Could he be more cryptic? Well, whatever he meant by that, it seems to have done its job in tripling my nervous levels.

Searching the walls and ceilings more closely this time, I look for the hidden camera that exposed me, but never find it. I put on my slave-master shoes again, grab Sabine by the back of her neck and shove her forward. “Move,” I order, and Sabine does what I say without falter.

Nora

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