Page 33 of Pas de Trois
His head tilts to the side and his expression softens as he states his vote, turning his eyes to Murphy. “Renata can keep him.”
Anya’s lips part as she tries to control the breath of relief that forces its way out. I clench my fists, wishing I could wrap my arms around her and hold her, wishing I could give her a safe space to break apart her icy shield and relax after this fucking awful meeting is done.
But I know I won’t be given the opportunity to be there for her when she needs me most, and I fucking hate it.
“Do I even need to ask your vote?” Murphy says to Anya.
Anya clears her throat, turning her head toward him. “Renata may have him as her slave.”
Hearing her say those words—in the cold, detached way that she has to—sucker punches me in the gut. I hate that she has to be this way…that she has to be like them to survive.
But she has no choice in the matter. Agree to let me be Renata’s slave or see me die. It’s no choice at all for her, just like it would be no choice for me.
How bad can Renata really be, anyway?
Murphy slaps his hands on the table, pushing himself up to stand roughly, his chair sliding away from the table. “Pack your bags, lass. We’re all leaving here tonight. I don’t have time to deal with this anymore. Everyone good?” He looks at each person pointedly, but quickly, as if he doesn’t really care. “Good. I’ll be downstairs dealing with the body in the dance studio.”
