Chapter 1: Innocence, Lost and Found
I bury my face into my plush pillow and drag my blanket over my head. With my eyes closed, I can pretend I’m young again, with no work to do, no heavy questions that I need to answer so I can breathe easier. The sounds of my mother working in the kitchen, humming a song that she used to perform at bars, in street concerts, or at special events hosted by brothels are just as they used to be.
Perhaps if I barely breathe, don’t open my eyes, don’t move a single muscle, time will pause and give me a moment to untangle myself from obligations, desires, repressed emotions, and expectations. Maybe there is logic rather than dust bunnies under my bed and if I can reach them everything will fall into place before the clock resumes ticking.
Or I’ll become a statue – a list of possibilities I’ll never be forced to live up to. I’ll stay curled around myself in bed, becoming a fossil that eventually fuses with the uncomfortable springs in the mattress. In the future they won’t know what a doll is. They’ll see me as a daughter, a woman, someone who decided to wallow in her comfort rather than continue the struggle of living among a variety of monsters.
“Freya,” my mother calls – her voice barely more than a conversational volume. “You need to eat breakfast. There’s no reason to punish yourself.”
“Not yet,” I whisper into my pillow.
Being safe in the apartment my mother and I can afford without question reminds me how lucky I am. I work hard and make more than enough for both of us. I have a healthy savings in case something does happen to me, and despite my half-warning to Liam, I know he’s paid for her medication through the end of the year.
The fact that he won’t own up to it raises more questions since he could easily leverage it against me, using it as an excuse to pay me less, yet he never does. Caring about me is worse in most ways. But I can’t make myself tell him that. Just like I can’t turn down the flowers he’s brought me – despite how rare they are – because he brings them after listening to me talk about how I wanted to see them. I wanted to see everything I’ve ever read about and he listened.
He’s going to smother me with growing expectations and try to unwrap my heart, ignoring how fragile and frail it is until it’s in his hands. One wrong step, one too-hard curl of his hands, and it will be dust. I’ll be worse than dead – I’ll be a tangible ghost, a zombie without the enthusiasm for brains or drugs.
To escape those thoughts, I escape my bed and hurry to the kitchen where my mother is. She’s a blinding light of positivity and always has been. I’m certain the sun will implode before my mother loses her optimism. People have called her naïve or optimistic, but it’s strength.
To see the best in everyone, in the world, in the future, despite everything around her being vicious and terrible… she might as well be a balloon coasting on the breeze, taking everything in and remaining unconcerned with every ragged, sharp, unyielding problem that threatens to pop her.
“Are you going to come home tonight?” my mother asks.
My fork clinks against my teeth as my eyes flick to her face. “I always come home,” I whisper. “Home is safe.”
She kisses my forehead, then goes to get her medication. When she gets it set up, I slip into my room. There is something to be said for ignorance. It’s not bliss, but it is a kind of … help. If I don’t see my mother taking her medicine, if I don’t see her hard days, then they don’t exist.
If I don’t see my clients outside of our time together, then they are only clients. They stay within the confines I place them. Confines are good. Boundaries exist to keep the beasts and complications away from the more vital aspects of my life – like my heart.
Chapter 2: The Client’s Confidant
My phone buzzes as I get ready for work, wiggling into a deep purple corset-style dress that’s strapless and short in the front despite the lacy skirt stretching further in the back. I glance at my phone, take a breath, then lace up my heels.
I have three messages from Liam, two from the clients I have appointments with today, and one from River, telling me that she’s offering lessons if I want to meet at Black Wire later.
Despite knowing I need these clients, I need to be busy, there are days where all I crave is silence. Since that’s not an option, I have no choice but to throw myself into work. With my first client, I find solace in listening as I curl myself around the man. All he wants is to feel loved, nurtured, listened to, and appreciated. He’s never asked for sex.
“Why would she marry me just to ignore me? That’s what they do in the core, not in the Marina. We have choices and now … it’s as if she’s more enthralled by the dancers, the water, or the gambling than me,” he breathes.
“That’s terrible,” I croon.
“Can you tell me how to fix it? You’re a woman,” he says, rolling over and pressing his head to my chest. He rubs my sides and squeezes me tightly. “I just need someone to tell me how to fix it.”
Rubbing his back, I open my mouth, then remember what Rowan said. The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them. “I can offer advice, but I’m not going to fix it. You don’t need that.”
“I do,” he argues.
I smile and gently rub his cheek. “You assume you do, but it’s rare that anyone else getting involved will improve the situation. You need balance. How can you find balance with her?”
He talks himself in circles, then develops a plan. Which results in a tip for me. I linger in the bed of the room I rent to spend time with my clients and run my fingers through my hair. My eyes flick to the mirror where I see my own cuddle-softened self.
Despite the judgment I see in my own reflection, I open Liam’s message.
Liam: New clients from the Core could be a threat.
Liam: Please meet with me today. Five hours.
I blink at his messages. I scroll up, see the teasing, near affectionate messages he’s sent before, asking if I have time for him, asking if I miss him enough to request a date. It’s all light and gentle … a part of me is afraid to answer these messages.
Asami: Liam, are you okay? If you’re drunk or otherwise affected, we’re not going to meet. You know my rules.
Liam: I’ll explain when we meet up. Our usual hotel? Usual time? Or would you prefer Black Wire?
Sighing, I set us up for our usual hotel, then take care of a much more intense client. He needs to vent his anger. It involves being spanked with a belt – always through clothes to minimize the bruising. He uses his hand when it’s not enough, then has me get on my hands and knees while wearing a red wig so he can fuck me roughly, holding my arms behind my back and telling me to ‘take it like a good slut’ until he finishes on my hair.
It’s the same every time. He never uses my name. Never uses any name, just vents all his fury with some unknown woman I’ll never meet, showers, and leaves. I shower and change, feeling dirty even in my clothes after being with him.
Chapter 3: Dangerous Affections
After changing into something that suits Liam’s taste – a black dress that clings to my body with straps that cross over my otherwise bare back, I dip into Black Wire to breathe for a moment or two. River looks me over, notes something, then nods before asking for another drink.
The doll next to her, the same one who asked what I would do if I started developing feelings for a client, sits beside River watching the door with hope before Rowan says something to her and her shoulders drop slightly.
If I’m not careful, that will be me. Waiting on a man who doesn’t see me as more than a possession to be owned. Liam might care about me. He might believe that he could love me, but I know the truth. I’ve seen it happen too many times.
“They all love you until they have you, Asami,” River’s words echo in my head even though she said them years ago, when I was new, saw sparks of hope in every client I had, gave in to my own desires as much as they did since it seemed right. “Once they have you, they’ll want the next girls that refuses to let them claim her. Men only want what they can’t own.”
“What if I want them too?” I’d asked.
“They’ll taste it, they’ll own you, then they’ll break you and toss you in the garbage. Toys always look nicest when the price is too high. The second a person brings a toy home, they start to destroy it.”
Water isn’t enough to clear that thought from my mind, but I’m no hypocrite. I want Liam to meet me sober, so I’ll meet him the same way.
Chapter 4: A Touch Too Tender
At the hotel, he doesn’t pause in the lobby or suggest drinks. He takes my hand, takes the key, and leads me to the elevator. He cups my face between his hands and looks me over. His eyes are exhausted, small bags darken his face and if I let myself care, I’d insist on him sleeping for the first two hours of our time together.
If I let myself care, I’d pry. If I let myself care, I’d tell him I have no other clients scheduled for tonight and he should stay with me, sleep in my arms, and wake up brand new. But those are all choices that lead to him revealing more feelings. It would be a choice that would make him think that he’s right offering me a real relationship, a penthouse for my mother and I, and a life without the need to work.
“You’re well?” he asks, lifting my chin and studying me intently.
“Of course,” I answer. “I know how to handle myself, Liam.”
He turns me around all the same, inspecting me before pulling me back against him. He buries his face in my hair and rubs my stomach. “Asami, you have no idea …”
“You don’t hide things from me,” I whisper. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing as long as you’re in one piece. Unbruised, unharmed,” he answers.
My throat tightens and my chest clenches as if it can fight his words and keep them from slipping into my heart. I slowly rub his arms and look back at him. His eyes are closed, but his lips mold to my throat. It’s a soft kiss, too tender, too reverent. It doesn’t belong in an elevator, it doesn’t belong to me. It can’t.
Closing my eyes, I lace my fingers through his. “Talk to me, Liam. Your messages concerned me.”
“The pressure at work is threatening to drown me. Perhaps that’s dramatic. It’s threatening to deafen me,” he says softly before kissing my throat again. “You … our time together …”
I wait for the words that will send me running, but instead the elevator reads our floor’s name. Liam unwraps himself from around me and leads me to our normal luxurious room. He shuts the door, then guides me to the bed. After kissing my forehead, he walks to the window and draws the curtains fully shut.
“Liam,” I whisper.
He turns and takes off his coat, then his shirt before gently pushing me back and climbing on top of me. He strokes through my hair and continues watching my eyes until I blush. This isn’t him. This is something else entirely. He swallows as his own face goes red, then he gently traces my bottom lip with his thumb. It’s so gentle I’m half sure I’m imagining his touch.
“Asami,” he sighs. “You don’t know exactly how much I like being here.”
“It’s normally good for both of us, isn’t it?” I ask, brow furrowed. I run my fingers through his hair, then cup his cheek. “Talk to me, Liam. Let me in.”
He gives me a naughty smile like he’s going to say a dirty joke. Instead, he turns his head and kisses my palm. “Work is getting more …” his brow furrows and he traces my lifeline with his tongue. “Oppressive. Being with you is the only time I feel …”
His eyes flick to me and burn through every wall of resistance I’ve tried to put between us. I swallow. “In control?”
“Like I have a choice,” he corrects. “I choose to be with you. I choose to open up with you. I choose to feel, to speak, to share, to fuck, all of it. I see how men become addicted to dolls.”
“Thanks,” I snort.
“You would be very easy to become addicted to,” he murmurs, his hand covering mine so I continue to hold his face. “A hotel room has never felt so big or full of possibilities. A conversation has never felt so easy.”
“Because we both know and accept that we’re choosing to keep secrets,” I whisper. “And you know I don’t share what we talk about or what we do.”
He sighs and stares at my lips while tracing them with his finger. “You’re too sweet to exist in this city, angel. I don’t know how you do it. How you survive with all the trash and monsters on the streets.”
I bite my bottom lip and he presses his forehead to mine. “I’m a monster too.”
“Not comparatively.”
Chapter 5: Where He Wants to Be
Liam takes a slow breath, then nuzzles my neck. “I don’t want to talk much today. I just want to feel free for a bit. To be with you, to lose myself in you and pretend that we’re on a vacation together.”
Swallowing, I run my fingers through his hair, then wrap my legs around him. “We could go see some of the art shows in Shadow Haven. Then again, that’s too close to too many things we’re used to. What about the Marina? Do you know how to swim?”
We go back and forth as if we’re planning a long weekend together, outlining everything we know that we’ll never do together. He’ll eventually do it all, once he moves on from me and gets married. Maybe I’ll do it once I have enough saved up – with my mother and we’ll only see the sights she’s interested in.
Somewhere between our plans, Liam slips into dirtier conversation as he strips me of my dress. He licks over my breast and whispers against my skin. “Where would you prefer I fuck you, Asami? Under the heavy trees and rolling rivers of Vespera? In a small row boat in the marina? Perhaps under the stars in the ruins of a church in Veilward?”
“All of them,” I pant, arching and welcoming his hand between my thighs. “All of them, Liam.”
“I’ll fill your hair with flowers,” he growls as his fingers work deeper inside me. “Real, hand picked flowers. We’ll enjoy our days in the sun, our nights bundled up near a fire and the only thing you’ll wear is me. I’ll be on you, inside of you, worshipping you like you fucking deserve.”
The orgasm he draws out of me feels like my body’s betraying me. I like it too much. I like him too much. If he would just make it easier to hate him. If he wouldn’t dress all the warnings of his attachment in genuine charm, if he wouldn’t please me just to please me, if he would be rougher, more dangerous, more terrible, I could untangle myself. I could be done before the last barriers between my heart and his are broken down.
“Let me show you how I can worship you,” he growls.
“Liam, my job-”
“Your job is to give me your time. Enjoy it, tell me what you want. Don’t hide a thing from me, Asami. It’s how we work best ..” he kisses the inside of my thigh. “In and out of bed.”
He proves it. Liam makes me come for his tongue, for his mouth and his fingers, then he flips me over and brushes his lips and tongue across every inch of my back until I barely feel human. I feel … incendiary, as if I’ll burst into flames at any moment and become a star with him to orbit me. Every whispered compliment in my ear, the way he praises my dedication, my body, my laugh, my conversation … how can any woman resist such devotion?
I can’t. I give him what he wants, moaning for him and giving into my ecstasy. He pulls out, finishes on my thigh and grips my hair. Panting, I turn to look at him and our noses brush. He presses his forehead to mine, our lips so close, I feel every ragged breath, can practically taste myself on him.
For one delirious, dreamy moment, I can see myself kissing him. Twisting under him and pulling his mouth to mine. I can’t remember what it’s like to kiss. But I’m sure Liam will do it perfectly. His lips will mold to mine, his tongue will move against mine just like it does when he’s between my legs. I’ll be able to taste his moans as he empties them into my mouth.
“Don’t look at me like that, Asami,” he growls, voice low and husky. “If you can’t help it, cover your mouth.”
I shakily put a hand over my lips and he rolls me over, kissing my fingers. His tongue slicks between my ring finger and pointer finger as a moan drags from my throat. I squeeze my thighs around his hips, then cross my legs behind him. I arch against him and he pants. “You undo me. Every time. Every. Single. Time.”
I move my hand and simply stare at him. He lifts my hips and grinds against me even though he’s spent. Turning his head ever so slightly, his mouth grazes my chin, my jaw, then to my ear. “Look at me like that again and I can’t promise I’ll …”
“Talk to me like that when you’re inside me and there are … are consequences,” I whimper.
He groans and presses the curve of his nose to my neck. We’re a perfect fit. Our panting breaths in time, his body and mine meant to be just like this. If only things were different. If only I wasn’t a doll and he wasn’t …
I swallow and gently stroke his back. He kisses my throat. “I’ll welcome every consequence of yours since you can’t ask me to control myself when we’re together. It is just us here. No one to hide from.”
“You hide from me,” I accuse softly. “Only telling me half-truths.”
“Half truths are all I want to be real. I don’t want to be a Maddox. I don’t want to feel so fucking bound to a … an entity that only wants to use me.” He rolls off me and turns my chin so he can stare into my eyes. “Drown me, Asami.”
“What?!” I demand, sitting up.
He chuckles. “In you, angel. Drown me in your eyes, your desires, your time, your body, your secrets.”
“Liam, you’re being ridiculous,” I say, despite the tension that’s building between my shoulder blades. Something is wrong. I feel it, see it in his face, how he’s fighting with himself.
He pulls me on top of him and laughs as he buries his face between my breasts, licking up my skin until we’re face to face. “I’d rather die buried in you, suffocated under you than be locked up another day in a world I can’t break free from, a world I can’t bend to my will.”
“Life is what you make it,” I soothe. “A collection of decisions. You chose me when you didn’t have to, right? You chose to question what’s around you instead of accepting it. You make choices again and again and you’ll create a life you want.”
“You chose this life for yourself. Why can’t you choose …” he studies my eyes, then swallows.
I bend down and very gently kiss his cheek, then under his ear, his neck. “Sleep with me, Liam. It’s something we haven’t done, right? Sleep with me. Let me be your peace a little longer. Choose this.”
He sighs and after a bit more crooning and a soft song my mother used to sing, he’s asleep. I ignore the time, don’t care about it, just watch him sleep while calling myself an idiot. When I roll onto my back, he rolls with me, hugging me to him.
“My Asami,” he hums without waking. “Only peace.”
My eyes close and I try to suppress every feeling that’s trying to eat me. I can’t fall into him. I’d drown him first. I’d run first. Because falling into him … I won’t survive it. Even if my body does, the rest of me will fracture into useless pieces that won’t matter. He’ll rip through every part of me I hide away. Once he owns it, it’s not mine anymore and I can’t … I can’t let myself be anything but mine.
Chapter 6: Marks That Linger
Liam wakes after the five hour mark, looks at me, and stretches like he’s going to kiss me before pausing. “You stopped watching the clock.”
“You said my name in your sleep,” I whisper.
He strokes my cheek and I lean into the touch. “I think …”
“Thinking is the enemy when it comes to us,” he shakes his head. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”
“That’s too dangerous and we agreed we weren’t going to go down that road again, Liam. I belong to me,” I insist, even though I pull his hand to my chest. “I have to. It’s how dolls survive. You belong to you and that’s how you survive. We’re the same. And because we’re the same, this only works if we understand.”
Liam watches me for a long moment and nods once. “Dreams don’t get to last, then.”
“If they did, we wouldn’t be living in Danger City,” I whisper.
He sighs. “You leave this time, then. I’ll use the room tonight.”
I hesitate. It feels natural to hesitate. Liam watches me get dressed, a smirk on his face. When I look in the mirror, I realize why. He left a hickey on my back, and another on my nape. I meet his eyes in the reflection and his smile grows.
“At least I know that our time together isn’t a dream and this one …” He stands and touches the back of my neck while kissing my cheek. “This one is just for us.”
It’s too intimate, too much like something real lovers do, people who care about each other. Swallowing, I smooth my dress out. “Next week?”
“You’re busy tomorrow?”
I close my eyes. “We talked about that too. No consecutive days. It … affects things.”
“Two days from now,” he offers.
“Liam,” I laugh dryly.
“Three times a week. Don’t deny me that, Asami. Please,” he asks.
The please burns through my resistance. “Three times a week, then two times a week. A rotation.”
“Deal,” he answers, kissing my neck again. “However I can have you, Asami.” His hands trail over my arms, his touch so light I almost believe he can be satisfied with the boundaries I set. “I’ll take it. You’re worth it.”
Turning, I rub his chest, then kiss the hollow in his throat. “Enjoy the hotel. They have excellent room service.”
Liam doesn’t cover up. He doesn’t move, his eyes stay pinned to me as I leave the room. A part of me is still sure he sees me when I’m on the street. I feel like he can hear me calling myself stupid, telling myself I need to escape.
Chapter 7: Owned and Bound
I’m a professional! I don’t develop any interest in my clients beyond the professional. I learn what they like. I learn what they need and give it to them. That is all. That’s all I ever do. But the hickey on the back of my neck burns in the best possible way. It’s wrong.
Getting swept up in desire, in orgasms, in a man who tells me what I want to hear, that’s something that happens to inexperienced Dolls who want an easier path. Dolls who don’t think about the rules and why they exist! That’s not me. It hasn’t been me for … for as long as I can think.
There’s only one place to go when my mind refuses to settle, when it churns and swallows like a cyclone, ripping at the seams of everything until they’re nothing at all. Black Wire is my lifeboat. Black Wire, River, Rowan, they’re steady, they don’t plague my mind with fragile ‘may be’s and ‘could be’s that I know I can’t have.
When I slide into a booth, far from the bar, I run my fingers through my hair. I’m too involved. Liam is too knotted around me. It used to be fun, like a game of thread. I liked to imagine we could crochet ourselves together and become something beautiful, but now the threads feel like a noose in the making, closing around my throat.
“You need a lesson,” River says as she drops into the seat across from me.
I don’t bother to say anything.
“If I see it, I know there’s a problem and there’s a problem,” she murmurs. “That client of yours. The one I warned you about. I’ve known men like him.”
“It’s not-”
“Just because you say it’s not a problem doesn’t mean it isn’t one, Asami,” River says, staring me down. “If you’re thinking of him when he’s not in front of you, it’s a problem. You’re too good a doll to fall into his trap. Any man is a risk, but Maddox? That’s a death sentence.”
“He’s not …” I shake my head and her victorious smile says plenty. I run my fingers through my hair. “If you’re so clever, if you’re so sure, then tell me you’ve never had feelings for a client. Tell me that you didn’t slide into the rougher side of our work to avoid it. To make it easier to hate them.”
River takes a slow breath. “I’ve seen too many girls fall and not be caught. They give up being a doll, lose all their clients, and then they’re tossed to the side when a woman suitable for marriage comes by. They’re left with nothing. Less than they had before.”
“But-”
“No doll has ever been chosen to be a bride. They’ve all heard the promises. We’ve all heard the promises. Sometimes we believe them just enough to ask for proof and then we see the truth. Other times, we deceive ourselves into believing it. No man wants a doll for more than a night,” she says.
Her voice turns thoughtful and she looks away. “I believed it too once. For a week, he kept me, made me think it was possible, but when I’d go out, he’d accuse me of working again. If I talked with other girls, he lost his mind. And within less than two weeks, he was with another doll. That’s the best case scenario.”
“He understands-”
“He pretends to understand,” River sneers. “What man can understand a doll’s position without living it?”
I sink into the seat.
“The longer you let him indulge his fantasies, the longer you don’t say no and show consequences for your actions … the tighter he’ll grip you. He will hold on until he suffocates you. So you either give in and lose everything or tell him no and die because he won’t let go. Make no mistake about that.”
That’s not Liam. The fact that my first instinct is to say that proves there’s a problem. Because Liam, based on evidence alone, would do that. He’s already proven he won’t let me go. He’ll charm and sweet talk, drag me deeper under his spell until I crave it, until I crave him.
He’s worse than the drugs my mother warned me about because I didn’t even realize I was getting hooked until now. With River sitting there, her flat eyes making me look at myself, only myself.
I trail my fingers over the hickey on the back of my neck. It’s not proof that Liam isn’t a dream. It’s a mark to show he already owns me.
“I’m already tangled,” I whisper.
“Then you have two options. Cut the net you’re trapped in or hope your new owner will keep you as a beloved pet,” she says.
I have a feeling that either option is going to cost me some sanity or someone else their life.
