She gives me a little nod before she can stop herself. She doesn’t want to show me she is hurting. I would bet a thousand bucks she’d never admitted to being in pain in front of William. I know from this small betrayal of her body that she already trusts me more than William, even if her mind doesn’t quite want to accept it just yet.

“Miss Catherine drugged me last night. I can tell. That’s the last time anybody does that to me.” Her voice is determined and stronger.

Ah, hell. She’s a smart girl.

“She wanted you to sleep, and nothing was done to you other than taking care of your wounds. You wouldn’t want to feel stitches being put in, love.”

“I’m used to pain. I will not be drugged again.” She ruins her confidence by looking down when she says those words to me.

Fuck, and I need to be able to question her this morning. There goes the truth serum.

“Nobody will do it to you ever again; you have my word. But we need to have a talk once you’ve had breakfast, and I need some straight answers to my questions. What you told Miss Catherine about the dead body, I want to be able to handle that for you, but I need to know details. Is that a deal?”

I wait for her while she works it all out in her head. Is he a safe bet? That’s what she’s asking herself. Can she trust me?

Then she surprises me with her response. “You sound different than Miss Catherine and Master William. Where are you from?”

Master? What a fucking joke.

“I’m British. You have my word I won’t hurt you in any way, nor will Miss Catherine. She’s a good sort. She did the right thing contacting me. Once we talk a little more, you will understand I’m trying to help you. I need to find out more about William, you, that house, and a few other important details. Miss Catherine believes you need to be protected, and I trust what Miss Catherine thinks.”

She’s staring at me all confused because she has forgotten about what her future holds.

I watch her as it all comes flooding back to her.

This British man before me is telling me I’m now safe. A man is telling me he won’t let anybody hurt me again. He’s different. I can feel it in my gut.

A calmness is radiating off Boxer, and when Miss Catherine opened her door last night to me, I felt a strong sense of goodness flowing from her. I had felt such relief that a man hadn’t answered the door, and in his stead was this little, old, wrinkled, dark-skinned lady with sympathetic eyes and a kind voice.

The one thing Master William and Mistress taught me without any lessons, other than life lessons, was how to read a person’s body language and sense a person’s emotions.

When I woke up, my mind sent me mixed signals because I wanted to flee when I noticed a man sleeping in Miss Catherine’s chair, it brought back bad memories of Master William. It was a natural reaction. My body was moving before I could tell it to calm down and, in my clumsiness, I shattered the vase.

He calls me ‘love’. I don’t understand why he uses that word, but I won’t question him.

I know what being drugged feels like, and I’m not okay with what happened. I don’t care for their reasons. I am angry at myself for letting that happen. This man in front of me tells me it will never happen again. It better not. I won’t be treated that way ever again. I’ve lost one lifetime to a man who didn’t care about my humanity, and I don’t think I would survive going through it again.

I couldn’t be that unlucky, could I?

I know the front door is so close I could open it and run, but this man, Boxer, would catch me before I even made it down the porch steps.

He’s strong.

I have been cataloguing the first man I had ever met, other than Master William, while he talks to me, trying to pacify my urge to bolt. He wears a short-sleeved t-shirt pulled tight across his chest. I can see the shape of his muscles outlined by the fabric. He’s an attractive older man with kind dark brown eyes. He looks a little younger than my master was, and he has short brown hair. I can see he has tattoos on the skin exposed to me.

He interrupts my thoughts. He’s a clever man. “Don’t think of running, Whisper. You need an identity and money to do that. There’s a whole big world out there you have no experience living in. The police won’t be getting involved until I have assessed William’s home. Give me and Miss Catherine today for starters, and maybe tomorrow. I know there are recordings of your life and, no doubt, William’s death, so I can see for myself what happened. Those recordings will be your saving grace, the proof of the past you’ve led. You need to rest and let your body recover for a couple days. I meant what I said; you’re free to do what you want now, but the sensible thing would be to let me do my thing, and then we can talk about your future and help you move on, if that’s what you decide.”

I can’t help shuffling nervously from side to side because I have a choice to either stay or leave, and I want so badly to have friends who care and can be trusted to help me.

But is it possible?

My mind is at war with myself because it wants me to run, but it doesn’t know how we will survive. I’ve never had choices before.

“What is it you want to say?” He’s watching me with those kind eyes and uses a calming voice.

I want to speak up, beat my chest, and tell him I’m now in control of my life, but I know that’s not true.

I have to let Boxer take charge for now.

One day, I will be in control, and nobody will change that.

I want to reassure her. I soften my voice and hope she believes what I’m telling her. “You have my word you are not a prisoner anymore, but you need friends, people you can rely on. You sound like you’ve lived a pretty shitty existence without friends, or a reason to trust in another human being. This is all going to be new for you.”

She has no reason to trust me, especially since I’m a man. I have to keep reminding myself I’m the only other man she has met in her entire life and I’m asking her to believe my words when she has no good reason to.

Trust is earned with respect, and she hasn’t known me long enough to respect me.

“We are now your friends. Friends don’t hurt each other, not deliberately anyway. I know we will need to earn your trust, but if you can stay here today, rest, and let Miss Catherine look after you that would be great. You need to recuperate anyway. I know this will all be foreign to you, but I need some time. I will deal with William and the house. Can you do that for us?”

I need her to stay here for a couple days, and then we can hopefully convince her we are worth her respect. It’s not a lot of time to win her over.

I can stay here today, and maybe tomorrow, and see what happens. Boxer knows the area. I do not. I’m a prisoner to my inexperience. I’m twenty-one and feel like a child. I’m very lost to a world I know nothing about living in by myself. I really have no choice but to stay here. I can’t support myself, so I must do as I am told. I will not look at this as anything other than a means to an end for a new independent life for myself. A life filled with my own decisions.

I do feel safe around this man. Boxer doesn’t make me feel like Master William did. I’m not frightened of him, and he trusts that I told Miss Catherine the truth.