“Is that what was required of Dr. Miller’s girls?”
I nodded.
“What…” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “…did you do?”
More tears prickled my eyes as the shame of my answer twisted through my circulation. “Whatever they said.”
“For food?”
Again I nodded.
My breath caught and pulse increased as he moved, coming to the seat where I was sitting. The scent of his cologne filled my senses. As he sat beside me, my body stiffened, preparing myself for his next directive. I was already nude under the cape; the possibilities were limitless.
A blow job. I’d learned there were men who needed that to get hard.
He could jack off on me. Some men liked that.
The thoughts swirled, releasing anxiety through my circulation. The idea of being soiled and dirty, covered in his ejaculation, saddened more than frightened me. Despite the exposure I’d experienced, I relished the sense of cleanliness since my shower.
Maybe he would demand sex. If so, I hoped it would be vaginal.
“Her anus needs to heal.” I recalled the doctor’s order.
Andros reached for my chin. “There will be a time when I will have you.”
My breath caught as I stared into his dark eyes.
“There are many things I could do,” he went on, “and when I do, I will, and you will agree because we have made a deal. Isn’t that right?” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “A deal for you to stay with your child. Tell me, Madeline, what are your limits? What are you not willing to do to continue that deal?”
He posed the question as if I had a choice.
I didn’t.
Any shreds of my self-respect were scattered on the floor of Dr. Miller’s office the night Kristine left me there. “There’s nothing,” I admitted.
“Then we don’t need to discuss it, not yet. I told you what I want from you in the short term.”
Too many things had happened in the last few hours—I couldn’t remember. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what that is.”
“Madeline, you are to heal and recognize your worth. No longer are you at anyone’s mercy but mine. I paid for that honor and you agreed. I want you to know that you’re no longer one of Dr. Miller’s girls. You belong to Andros Ivanov and as such, are his alone to indulge. Food is not now nor will it ever be used as a reward or punishment. Necessities such as food, housing, and clothing, everything you will need or want are yours. From this point on, you’re regal and I want you to know that.”
He said many things, but my mind was still on one. “No sex?”
He released my chin and ran a large finger over my cheeks. “There will be sex. Not now. First, your job is to heal and take care of that child inside you.”
After the car stopped and he helped me from the back seat, I wrapped the cape closer. Stopping, I stared up at the large plane, complete with stairs down to the ground.
“Don’t be frightened,” he said softly as his hand again went to my back. “Flying is safer than driving.”
He was wrong. I wasn’t scared to fly. I knew fear. This was something altogether different.
I was awestruck.
Once we climbed the stairs, within the sparkling white and gold cabin was a crew of three people waiting for his every order.
“This is Madeline,” Andros said, introducing me as if I weren’t his latest purchase nude beneath the cape, but instead perhaps a guest.
I couldn’t help but smile at his continued use of my name. I wasn’t girl any longer. I had a name.
“Before we’re in the air,” he said to the woman he’d introduced as Natalie. “I’ll have a vodka. She’ll have…” He looked my way. “…no alcohol for now.”
I had never had alcohol.
“She’ll have…whatever else she wants.”
Natalie turned my way. Like the woman at the senator’s house, there was no judgment in her expression as if this were a daily occurrence. “Miss?”
“Water, please, Natalie.”
After the crew disappeared, leaving us alone in soft white leather seats, me with a water bottle and Andros with a glass of clear liquid, the plane began to move.
“Did you tell Natalie what you’d like to eat?”
“Yes,” I replied, before emptying the water bottle.
He smirked. “And more water?”
“It’s so good.”
“It’s water.”
I nodded.
It was water, and it was even better than the water at the senator’s home. When I’d twisted the cap, it clicked. This wasn’t a refilled bottle but a fresh one. Once I took a sip, it didn’t disappoint. And now, after consuming one bottle, I longed for more.
“Once we’re to our home, you will have clothes.” He looked down at my feet, now dirty from walking. “And shoes. I’ll appoint someone to your care. Just tell her what you want. For now, you won’t need anything formal.”
Formal?
The word made me think of the white dress Kristine had purchased.
“I don’t need much.”
“It’s summer. I’m sure it can all be arranged.” His chin rose. “Madeline, you seem wise. Don’t take this wrong. Tell me about your education.”
“I-I didn’t finish high school.”
“Didn’t finish?”
“I didn’t start. I left my last foster home at fourteen.”
He nodded. “You’ll have a tutor.”
“I don’t need that,” I said defensively. “I can read and do math.”
“Then his job will not be difficult. And for the baby?” he asked. “We’ll need things. What things do babies need?”
I gripped the arms of the chair as the airplane lifted off the ground. The freshly consumed water sloshed in my otherwise-empty stomach as the lights from the runway disappeared and we continued to rise into the dark sky. Finally, I turned his way. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what babies need.”
“Then we both have things to learn.”
After I’d eaten a warm, delicious sandwich made with toasted thick bread, melted cheese, vegetables, and roast beef and consumed a small bag of potato chips as well as two more bottles of water, Andros settled in the seat next to me. In his hand was a small screen filled with baby furniture. Everything was new. There were cribs and small beds called bassinets. There were rocking chairs, dressers, and changing tables. I wasn’t certain I’d ever heard of a table designed for changing diapers.
“Why are you being nice?” I asked.
“I’m not. That’s the last word to describe me.”
“But you are.”
“I’m simply securing my investment. I’m confident that you and your baby will be worth it.”
That may have been true that he wasn’t nice and I was his investment, but with my thirst quenched and stomach satisfied, I wanted to believe that Andros was nice.
As the warmth of his arm rested against mine and I looked from one picture of a nursery to the next, there was no possible way for me to comprehend the truth—that Andros Ivanov’s method was far more devious than that of Miss Warner.
She thrived on negative reinforcement while capitalizing on her victims’ basic needs. We accepted every debasing and degrading consequence as our only means to survival, as well as that of our child. She exploited our instincts to protect the baby within us, and to that end, we suffered anything she or the customers did in order to keep the child within us alive.