Theirs to Use: A Punishment Reverse Harem Romance(33)
“We meant to send her to a party out here, and we forgot to enter it into the tracking system.”
The beefy, broad-shouldered sergeant grinned. “I thought she was one of those girls. The bathrobe kind of gave it away. Really it was that or she’s having a breakdown. She refused to say anything, and the system just says to lock her up and call you. Is she a good lay? She’s super hot, but the boys did notice that you must have had to whip her recently. Wouldn’t mind taking my belt to that ass myself, if she happened to misbehave.”
Singleton’s reaction to the officer’s casual shift from speculation on Karen’s mental health to ruminating about her suitability for sex and discipline surprised him—not so much because of its nature but because of its strength. He frankly wanted to punch the man, despite having a healthy respect for authority, and he actually felt his hand twitching, balling into a fist.
He forced a smile, though. “Very good, Officer. Can I see her?”
“Sure thing. We’ll bring her out to you. I hope you can get her to the party on time—wouldn’t want to deny anyone the pleasure of fucking that sweet piece of ass.”
*
Karen’s eyes, when they led her from the cells to the foyer where Singleton waited, looked so dull and sullen that for a moment he despaired of his plan working. But then he saw something flicker there, as if she had read on his face a hint of his intentions and hadn’t been able to keep herself from reacting to it. An instant later, though, the girl had clearly pushed whatever emotion she had felt down deep inside her heart, for the sullen, hard look returned in full force.
“Hello, sir,” she said in a flat voice, her eyes dropping to his shoes. She looked stunning even in the droopy, voluminous white bathrobe that had grown a little dirty over the past two hours between the cab, the police cruiser, and the cell.
“Hello, Karen,” he said. She looked up sharply into his face at the sound of his voice, and then down again, her cheeks, Singleton could see very clearly, having grown the tiniest bit pink. He hadn’t meant to give anything away in his tone, but instead to echo her own dull affect with a neutrality of his own. Karen must have picked up on something, though, even if she herself didn’t know what it might mean. Singleton went on, smoothly covering the moment over with jovial words that he meant to sound slightly false to her ears.
“I’ve told the sergeant that we miscommunicated. You were supposed to get dressed before you left for the party, silly girl.”
The sergeant guffawed. “But why? Her clothes were going to come off anyway, right?”
Karen paid the officer no attention, though, for she had clearly grasped the main implication of Singleton’s lie as soon as it had left its mouth. “I’m not in trouble, then, sir?” she asked. Her eyes betrayed mystification at—not to mention distrust of—this apparent development.
“Aw,” said the sergeant to Singleton, “are you sure you don’t want me to teach her a lesson over the discipline bench in the backroom, Mr. Singleton? Remember that she refused to talk to us.”
Singleton flashed the officer a fraternal sort of smile. “Not today, Sergeant,” he said. “I promise you that this girl will get her backside whipped for something else before too much time goes by. I think she was just scared.”
He looked back at Karen, who gazed at him now with frank astonishment, lips parted and brow furrowed. “You’re not in trouble. We’ll talk in the car.”
*
When Karen stepped into the back of the black SUV she found on her seat the sweats Singleton had bought on the way to the police station, along with a set of ordinary gray underwear. Singleton got into the passenger compartment after her and spoke first to his driver.
“The apartments on Harrison Avenue, please, Ken.”
“Yes, sir,” Ken replied.
Singleton turned to Karen, whose face wore a mask of deep confusion.
“You can put on the underwear and the sweats now if you want,” he said, “or you can go into your new apartment in the bathrobe. It’s up to you.”
“New apartment?” Karen asked in a slow voice that it seemed to Singleton she tried and failed to keep flinty and harsh.
Singleton gave her his best interpretation of a wry smile. “We’ve decided you’re not worth the scandal, Karen. You’re getting another chance just because you’re such a pain in the ass.”
He saw her face go white at the phrase pain in the ass. He could also detect, he thought, some seriously mixed emotions at the idea of getting her freedom from sexual servitude this way: rising hope mingled with a disappointment she didn’t want to feel but couldn’t help.
“But…” she said. “But how…”
“We’re not going to give you an allowance, Karen. You have a job at the convenience store on the first floor of the apartment building. The super knows to keep an eye on you, and we’ll pick you up and bring you back to the detention facility if you try to skip out on us, but you’ll be able to work off your debt to ResTech that way.”
He felt sure that her natural cognitive bias toward belief in her coming freedom would obscure the absurdity of the logic for Karen, once she had given in to the hope he dangled of a new life. To his surprise, though, she resisted that temptation for a little while longer.