Page 15 of Ashes to New

She’d barely seen him this past month. During the day, he would disappear inside his computer room, and at night, he’d close the door to his bedroom. He’d said he was working on his project, but she understood.

Forced into intimate contact nearly every night, Forest was avoiding her.

Clark Preston would pose them, filming his nonstop narrative direction. She and Forest never spoke as they moved like the puppets they had become.

Focus!

Master John would be here soon.

A chill ripped through her body, and she fisted her fingers tight until her nails cut into her palms. Her mind was a raw and ravaged mess, and she was failing to package the important bits and squirrel them away. She needed to find her center if she was going to survive the night.

A rustle of paper trickled out from the library. Clark Preston had finished working on his latest case. His leather chair creaked as he rose, and then his steps filled the silence, echoing against the walls and bouncing off the ceiling to lodge deep in her chest. He came to a stop before them, the weight of his power settling heavily on her shoulders.

“Not long now. Master John has a treat for you, boy.”

Elsbeth’s insides twisted. With her head pressed to the backs of her hands, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed.

Whatever Master Johnhad planned for Forest never materialized. Master John had apologized, saying it would be another couple of weeks.

Elsbeth sought answers and found none, her mind fearful and full of too many what-ifs.

With the arrival of Master John, daily activities commenced downstairs. Forest endured brutal beatings while she drowned in forced pleasure. Her mind learned to respond to delivered commands, and her body bent to Master John’s will. Days ran into one another, blurring lines and erasing boundaries. Forest grew even colder and detached, rarely speaking in the few spare moments they found themselves unmolested.

During the endless summer, he’d spend hours in the basement, alone with Master John. When released, Forest would retreat to his rooms. She’d knock on the door, wait, but her pleas would remain unanswered. They suffered, apart from each other. He’d barely look at her and never in her eyes. They wouldn’t touch outside the basement, his body conditioned to respond in a way he couldn’t process.

They endured together. Separated, they were falling apart.

She picked up the pieces as best as she could.

The days churned by.

Elsbeth feared for the future, but never gave up trying to reach Forest.

She knocked on Forest’s door. “Come on! Let me in.”

While they had locks on the doors, they weren’t permitted to use them. So, when she twisted the knob and found her entry barred, Elsbeth gaped. This was not good. If Clark Preston found Forest locking his door…well, that couldn’t happen.

She rapped on the wood and lowered her voice, frantic now more than ever to reach him. “Forest?”

No response.

“Forest!”

A chair scraped over the tile floor, but no other sound reached her ears.

“Is something wrong, my pet?” The liquid tone of Master John’s voice poured into her soul and shut it down.

Where had he come from?

With her hand on the doorknob, she froze.

He invaded her personal space and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. With the soft press of his lips against the angle of her jaw, he brushed her arm. “What’s the matter? Why do you run to him when you have me to turn to?”

Because Forest was safe.

A trail of kisses traveled down the curve of her neck, Master John lapping and nibbling at her collarbone.

Gripping her wrist, he pulled her hand off the doorknob and pressed it to the hardness of his shaft. “I find myself in need, my pet. What should we do?”