Page 540 of End Game

“Good.”

His fingertips move beneath my chin.

“From this point forward, you answer questions I ask you. You do not solve problems I have not given you. You do not anticipate what comes next.”

My lungs finally fill all the way. “Okay.”

His thumb brushes my lower lip. “What did I say about answering?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

There.

The first thread in my head snaps loose.

He takes me by the hand and leads me to the basement.

As soon as we’re there, he takes my phone from my hand.

Puts it face down and out of reach.

Then his hands return to me.

“Clothes off.”

I obey.

Not fast.

He doesn't hurry me.

Shoes.

Jeans.

Shirt.

Bra.

Everything lands in a messy pile.

When I'm naked, he walks me toward the table.

My pulse climbs.

Not fear.

Recognition.

Safety dressed like surrender.

Then he straps me down.

Soft cuffs.

Wrists first.