Page 69 of Monster's Edge
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The good thing aboutliving with Ian is that he really is rich as fuck. This means that he has a full-service staff who do just about anything you could possibly imagine. I think Ian is even richer than my dad is, and that’s saying something. Then again, my father often seems to get his way just by scaring people, so I’m not sure how great that is.
Still, after a few days of having freshly-cooked meals delivered right to the bedroom, I realize that I could get used to this life of luxury. Someone comes in each morning with a breakfast tray. They leave it on the table in the bedroom and disappear before I even start moving. I don’t know who it is that brings the breakfast. All I know is that it’s really good.
Lunch is the same, but I usually see the lunch person. It’s a young man who is honestly probably close to my age. I wonder if he’s in a situation like Georgetta. Has he been captured? Does he have to stay here? Only, this guy wears a collar around his neck, so I know the situation is different. A collar means that he belongs to someone in the house. Maybe Ian. Maybe someone else. For all I know, he could be Edoardo’s submissive. The collar protects him, though. Nobody except the person who put it there gets to touch this guy.
I try speaking to him a couple of times, but he’s always quiet, so I finally give up.
Dinner is the same.
After four days, I still haven’t seen Ian. I’ve run into Georgetta a few times, but she’s rarely in her room and I don’t really know how she’s spending her time. There are a lot of books in Ian’s house, so I’ve gotten pretty comfortable just sitting around reading. My wounds are starting to heal. Even my ass is feeling better.
Still, there’s a part of me that misses my freedom even though I know that it was never really mine. My father kept me under lock and key. He just didn’ttellme. Is that life really better than what I have now? At least with my life now, I know where I stand.
Ian is in charge and I’m basically...well, his bitch, I suppose.
It’s been nearly a week since Ian and I slept together in his dungeon that he finally makes an appearance. He walks into the bathroom one evening while I’m sitting in a tub filled with bubbles up to my ears. I’m so surprised to see him that I sit up sharply and bubbles slosh over the side of the tub.
He finds this neither amusing nor endearing.
“We need to talk.”
“Usually when a guy says that it’s right before he tells you he’s married,” I point out.
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Not married.”
“But you’re going to be?”
“Maybe.”
Then it hits me.
“Oh.”
“Yes,” he nods. “You and I will be getting married.”
I wrinkle my nose as I look up at him. “There’s nothing wrong with you Ian-“
“Mr. Salucci,” he corrects me out of habit.
“If we’re going to be married, I think I can call you Ian.”
“No.”
I pout. “Really?”
“Really.”
Whatever. He’s a total weirdo, but that’s fine. I can live with it. I can live with his weirdness. I think. I guess it doesn’t matter because I don’t really have a choice, do I.
“Get out of the bath.” He stands up and leaves the bathroom. He doesn’t close the door on his way out. He just sits down on the bed and waits. He’s tapping his leather-clad shoe on the ground. I can see it from here.
What’s he doing?
What’s he waiting for?
