A chain ran from the ring on Valerie’s collar to a second steel ring set into the wall. She had come to learn that Dana’s house had dozens of hardpoints scattered about; hidden behind electrical outlets, artwork, or in some cases simply disguised by architectural visual elements. In the cell, where she had first been kept those weeks ago, they were more overt.

Dana marked Valerie’s first month with a candle-lit dinner; the romantic overtones of such a celebration were subverted by the fact that, opposite her at the table, Valerie was clad from the neck down in black latex, and bound tightly to the dining room chair. She had just enough range of motion in her hands and arms that she could reach her own food and wine, but she couldn’t reach any of the knots or hardware that held her in the chair.

Later that evening, Dana cooked dinner for the two of them, fresh pasta that was close to expiring, in a simple pan sauce of peppery olive oil emulsified with a little of the salted pasta water, and root vegetables that she cubed and roasted. Valerie watched rapt from a bar stool opposite the expansive kitchen island.

Valerie shared Dana’s bed that night, though they simply slept— or at least, Dana did. Valerie slept poorly; she was nervous, sharing a bed with a new— her thought process shuddered to a stop before it could insert the word “girlfriend”. She was unsure what word to use, but certainly not that one. Boss? Mistress? Owner?

Eight pounds of sleek-furred black cat hurtled out of the shadows as Valerie stepped across the threshold; Sammy was already purring audibly as her little face collided with Valerie’s shin.

Valerie and Dana sat across from each other in the apartment’s small corner breakfast area, four walnut and leather-upholstered chairs around an elegant and modern wooden table. The floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the corner afforded a breathtaking view of the city. Valerie suspected the table and chairs cost more than her car. An untidy stack of paperwork sat to one side, and a few sheets were spread out between them, in front of Valerie. A cold mug of coffee sat off to the side, long forgotten, next to a half-eaten slice of toast.

“I have an apartment here in the city,” Dana explained. She had pulled the rented car out of the street space she had squeezed it into earlier, and into the morning traffic. “It’s more convenient after shows, and events, and .. " she paused, glancing aside at Valerie, who was staring out the window at the Friday bustle.

The door to Valerie’s apartment was not even closed when she and Dana finally stepped up to the threshold. Valerie pushed it open cautiously, but there was no sign that anyone else had been there since she was taken the evening before.

The pavement was uncomfortable against Valerie’s bare feet, but it felt better than the carpet of the trunk had. The sun was too low to warm the night’s chill out of the air, and she was still dressed only in the thin pajamas she’d been wearing. She shivered from the cold, and from the chaotic emotions swirling around in her head. It seemed like a week ago that she had been pacing around her apartment, agonizing over Dana’s contract; the events since then left her dizzy, and incapable of untangling the mess of emotions she was feeling.

Lucca flew north along the highway, just high enough to be safe but low enough that the cars were easy to make out. They didn’t spot very many; the roads out there that early in the morning were the next best thing to deserted.