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I struck, aiming where she’d been branded.
This time, she let go of a scream and fell to her side, protecting her hip, watching me accusingly.
“You’d better get used to this. Get used to being treated like this.”
“Like a fucking dog, you mean.”
“That’s a good way to think of it. This is obedience training, and you’re my bitch.”
“You’re a coward. You hide behind a mask. You carry your weapons, against what? Defenseless, bound women who are half your size?”
“Fuck you, Gia.”
“It’s what you do. Own it. But you have to own what it makes you too. A fucking coward.”
“How’d you get yourself caught, anyway?” I asked, gripping her collar and hauling her up to her knees. She fought like an animal. I leaned down so my face was inches from hers. “I’m getting the feeling you weren’t some random pickup.”
“Let me go. You’re hurting me!”
“How? Tell me.”
“I wasn’t a random pickup you fucking prick.”
She shoved at my chest, but she wasn’t nearly strong enough.
“Piss off a boyfriend? He finally get enough of your bitchy mouth?”
Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, a raw and complete pain intensifying the green.
“You don’t know anything about me. Not a thing!”
“Tell me!” I shook her hard, lifting her to her feet and pressing her against the wall. I held her there by her throat.
Her face reddened, and she watched me. I wasn’t sure if she was able to speak or not. Rage hotter than hell burned through me, and I squeezed her neck.
“Fucking tell me!”
She choked out a sob, and when I loosened my hold, she began to cough.
“Did he order your branding as punishment?”
“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” she choked out.
I released her, and she dropped to her hands and knees, still coughing.
“He’s a murderer. A monster.” She paused, turned her face up, and added: “Like you.”
I narrowed my gaze, although we both knew she was right. The room stood strangely quiet, her on her knees at my feet, eyes red, cheeks wet with tears, hate spearing me.
“Just like you,” she said again, sitting back on her heels and lowering her gaze, giving herself over to the tears that seemed unending. I watched like the monster she accused me of being. The monster I was. I just stood there and watched her come apart until she quieted, and then I pulled the chair closer and sat down, my gaze still on her, as if I’d never seen this before, never seen a person come unglued.
She sat up and wiped the last of her tears, the look in her eyes telling me hate fueled her now. Hate kept her upright.
“I normally don’t give a shit about the girls that pass through here, but you’re different. You’re like me, Gia. You’re filled with hate.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
I ignored her. “Maybe I won’t bother taking you to the auction. Keep you for myself until I wear you out instead. Until there’s nothing left.”
She stared at me. Was it fear that left her mute? That pushed tears from her eyes?
“That’s a scary thought, isn’t it?”
“It would be if there was any truth to it, but you’re a peon.”
Her voice broke, betraying her panic. But she kept going.
“You’re a nobody. You work for them. You don’t get to decide. You don’t get to choose what happens to me.”
I swallowed hard. She was right. She was exactly right. She paused, and I wondered if she could read my face. I needed to end this, to take back control.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I defended.
“I think I do.” She sniffled, wiped her nose and eyes. “And you’re wrong. We may both hate, but I don’t hate myself. I know who I am. I’m not evil. I don’t hurt people. You…you’re a monster. You hate yourself more than you could ever hate anyone else.”
I swallowed hard suddenly, wanting my mask, needing it. She saw me, she saw right through me, and she said the words I was too fucking afraid of, too much of a coward to say myself. The words I was too weak to own.
I stood and kicked the chair out from behind me, sending it crashing against the far wall, making her jump, making her lean away from me.
“Turn around.” I ordered.
She eyed the crop, and I saw her tremble as her red, puffy eyes searched mine.
“Turn the fuck around.” Quieter now. Had she realized yet I was at my deadliest when I grew calm? I watched her think. I studied this girl who desperately needed humbling. This girl who burrowed too deep under my fucking skin.
Her eyes darted to the crop once more, and I set it aside. I didn’t need that. There were other punishments. Pain wasn’t the worst I could do.
Her throat worked as she swallowed, but slowly, she turned to face away from me. Her hair had come partially out of the braid. I reached to pull the elastic holding it together out. Gia startled but held her position. I ruffled the braid I’d so carefully pleated until her long hair hung down her back. I picked up the mass of it and set it over one shoulder. She remained tense, shoulders high, arms tight by her sides as I squatted down to trace my fingertips down the length of her spine. Her skin was so soft, her body slender, the lines long and straight, her narrow waist giving way to rounded hips. Her arms were toned, like I’d noticed her legs were. Apart from the bruising and that branding scar, she was flawless. Perfect.
