Free Maid for It (A Maids for It Novella) by Lucy Rodgers

hadn’t I realized there was something
wrong with the raid and the trial? It all seemed so real, but in
retrospect, I should have known something was off. A judge ordering
me to work for a specific company in exchange for being permitted
to stay in the country? Without a green card or a Social Security
Number? I may not fully understand the US legal system, but I know
enough to know it doesn’t work like Mexico’s. And what happened in
that courtroom was Mexican in feel, not American.
    Ben reaches out and lays a hand over mine. I
realize I’m trembling. With rage. With humiliation. With
self-disgust.
    “You were running for your life. Few people
in your position would have questioned what happened, and even if
you had, what would you have done? Run to the police? Called the
Mexican consulate?”
    I sigh. He’s right. Like always. So
perceptive, my master who is no longer my master.
    “And now I’ve made it possible for you to go
home to your family, where you belong. I learned while I was
tracking down Cantavares that you used to teach English and English
Literature at the college in Sinaloa. They haven’t filled your
position yet, apparently. And your family is desperate for you to
return. They miss you terribly.”
    “You’ve spoken to my family?” I want to ask
if they know what’s happened to me, if they’ll be ashamed or
embarrassed by what I’ve been through, by what they inadvertently
put me through.
    “Not directly, no. I doubt they would take
kindly to me if they discovered I’d spent the last two months
treating you like my property and effectively raping you.”
    A fierce burst of anger singes my veins. “You
didn’t rape me. It was never rape.” I love you.
    “I’m afraid many people wouldn’t agree with
you. Especially the people who love you.” He removes his hand from
mine and stands up. “You were never meant for this life, Gabi. I
may have been able to make you want me, but only because you were
too frightened to resist.”
    “That isn’t true. I was never afraid of you.
Not really.”
    “I should have known right away you were too
good to be true, but I was selfish. You were so beautiful and so
submissive, I wanted to keep you. But you were also so afraid I’d
send you away, and that didn’t make sense. None of the other maids
Daniels sent were afraid of that, and I believe it’s because none
of them were coerced as you were, that they came to the US of their
own volition. Somewhere along the line, Daniels must have started
running out of willing victims and so he started recruiting
unwilling ones as well, you among them.”
    I nod, but inside I’m a riot of emotion. I
can go home! Back to my job, my family, my friends. Back to
everything that’s beloved and familiar. But to do that, I have to
leave my master.
    I’d rather cut off a limb.
    I’m ready to get on my knees, to throw my
arms around his legs, to beg and plead with him to let me stay.
It’s worked before. Why not this time?
    But before I can even start to get off my
chair, he holds up a hand. “You need to go home, Gabi. Nothing you
can do or say will change my mind on this. Right now, you see me as
the person who saved you—first by letting you stay when your life
was in danger and now for eliminating that danger. And what we
had—the master/slave bond—it’s very powerful. You had no experience
with anything like it before. You can’t make a rational decision
about where you belong under those conditions.”
    “I do know what I want,” I protest. “I want
you. I want us. I even want the…the playroom.”
    That makes him raise an eyebrow. I can tell,
for a second, I’ve almost gotten through to him.
    “Please, don’t treat me like a child,” I
plead.
    He looks at me for a long time. At last he
opens his mouth, and I have a glimmer of hope. He’s going to let me
stay.
    But what he says is, “I’m not treating you
like a child. Since you’re still wearing my collar, I’m treating
you like my