The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,15
Smith away and a server walks in with plates of fresh fruits already sliced up and cheeses.
"I like to start the morning with something light. We'll have something more filling after we've tried out the new cheeses. I had them shipped over from Europe, I supposed Smith told you where I'm from? He does like to gossip."
There's barely an accent to his voice, clearly he's been here a long time.
I don't speak or acknowledge his words in any way, I just stare down at my plate. I move slowly to tuck the knife under my thigh, thankful the blade is covered and I don't cut myself doing it. The pain wouldn't have been an issue but explaining the blood... that would be something else entirely.
"Ah, my guest is a shy one! Not to worry, I can talk enough for the both of us. It has been quite a long week for me, my dear. I lost one of my other dear friends. She went to go stay with her mother, a lovely girl but may I say she had nothing on your beauty. My, my. I wasn't expecting you to be so breathtaking! I’d heard rumors but I find it best not to believe such things.”
He tells me all about how important he is and, though I believe none of it, I listen for clues… anything that may help me to escape. He really does think quite a lot of himself and his acts of rescue.
I sit here at the dining table as if I’m complying to his whims but I refuse to eat or drink. I can’t take the chance because it could be drugged. I’m not starving yet, I can hold out for days now I’m back in good health. All of that bread and pasta will come in handy while I wait for mon Monstre.
Lord Devareux chuckles at me.
“Do I need to taste test everything for you, my dear? Or are you too tired to eat? I know you were on the road for a long time, it can be so taxing on a young lady.”
Still I keep my mouth shut. I won’t speak to him unless my life requires it, and only then because I wouldn’t ever hurt mon Monstre like that.
I must get back to him.
Lord Devareux doesn’t get offended at my silence or my refusal of food, instead he happily eats and drinks and talks about nothing important until he’s had his fill. He then wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and excuses himself, overly polite and winking at me as if this is some sort of date. I try not to choke on the bile that creeps up my throat at his flirty antics.
It's difficult but I manage to get the knife tucked into my bra while he speaks to Smith at the door. I have to hunch down over the table to do it without the men seeing me if they glance my way.
They don't glance my way though, they don't for one second guess at what I'm doing. I wonder how many other girls have been here and how many of them have tried to escape? They don’t seem worried at all, but it’s not with the same air of confidence that Illi has. He didn’t care because he knows he can handle any situation, these men… they’re complacent.
Mon Monstre is never complacent, not with anything.
Even the Jackal wasn’t his fault. Betrayal like that is not something you can prepare for, not without building walls and casting everyone in your life out. What a miserable life that would be.
It was the life he rescued me from living in France, in a roundabout way.
No matter how much we both wish my time with the Cartel hadn’t happened, it was the path he found me on and I wonder if my heart would have ever opened to him without it? I wish I could be sure of it, but we both learned the hardest lessons then.
“My dear girl, I think it’s best if you go and lay down in your room. I will have lunch brought up to you there but you can rest for the day and sleep well tonight. Then we can speak again tomorrow morning. You clearly need some time to adjust to your new surroundings.”
I don’t nod or look at him, not acknowledging he’s spoken in any way, and I hear his sigh from across the room. Good. I hope I’m frustrating the shit out of this man.