collar, presumably as a constant reminder of who my master is. The three scratched letters on the underside do not affect me as much as I thought they would. Perhaps I’m becoming immune to him.
I smile. Stonehart wouldn’t like to know that.
The next morning, I spend an hour in front of the mirror trying to figure out a way to attach it to my collar. That’s what Stonehart asked me to do. I want to have it on before his arrival.
Unfortunately, there is no way to do it, short of gluing it on. And I don’t have any adhesive.
That’s too bad. I wanted to use the army tag as a symbol of defiance. I would wear it proudly without letting it affect me, because it meant that Stonehart’s influence on my psyche was less than he wants.
In the end, I resort to hooking it through a thin silver necklace that I find in my closet, and put it out of mind.
Afterward, I carefully apply the makeup over my cheek to conceal evidence of Stonehart’s slap. My eye is still a little swollen. I can’t do anything about it. I just hope the bruising will fade by Stonehart’s return.
I spend the next day outside. It’s wonderful to be free of the shackles of his home. Stonehart’s property is so huge that I can forget where I am and just lose myself amongst the tall evergreens for hours.
I prefer them to the cliffs. The view of the ocean is something I see every day from the sunroom. The trees are a new and novel environment.
I return to the house when it’s dark and have dinner. Somehow, I still haven’t bumped into Charles once. It’s a little unnerving to know that there is another person here with me—someone I’ve never seen.
That night, when I go to sleep, anticipation thrums through my body like a strummed string. Tomorrow marks Stonehart’s return. Tomorrow is when I begin my real mission of ingratiating myself to him.
Chapter Thirteen
I wake up the next morning with a gasp and jolt upright. The sun is shining brightly through the windows. I overslept!
I hurl myself out of bed and run to the bathroom, cursing my lack of alarm clock. What if Stonehart is already here? What if I slept through his arrival?
I brush my teeth hastily, throw cold water over my face to wake myself up, and am out of there in five minutes flat. I debate taking an extra few moments to get dressed, but think better of it. Stonehart told me last time he’ll treat me like a dog. If he’s going to make me go naked, there’s little point in putting on pretty clothes.
As I hurry down the hall to the main foyer, it strikes me how I can think those thoughts with such complete indifference.
It’s either a mark of immense strength, or wavering sanity.
My heart drops when I hear Stonehart’s voice from the kitchen. He’s talking to Rose.
How long has he been here? I hope not long.
I take a deep breath, forcibly slow my steps, and walk regally into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Jeremy,” I pronounce, giving him my most fawning smile.
Stonehart’s eyes flicker to me. Rose, whose back is turned, looks over her shoulder. Her face is unreadable.
I stand there and keep my lips forced up in that horrendous smile, waiting for a reply.
With absolutely no further acknowledgment, Stonehart looks back at Rose and continues his conversation.
I stand there for a minute, confused. He’s here . Isn’t he going to say anything to me?
After an awkward minute spent on my feet, I go to the table and sit down. I pretend to be as disinterested in him as he is in me. It’s not hard—all he’s discussing is the logistics of his upcoming trip. Nothing juicy, either, just things about how he wants the house kept while he is gone.
I pretend to be fascinated by a small, shiny spot on the table. Stonehart’s voice is calm, soothing, and deep. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I missed it.
Eventually, Rose bustles away. I look up, expectantly…
And am utterly let down when, after draining his coffee, Stonehart leaves the room, too.
He didn’t