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When I had everything back on, the fabric felt foreign against my skin. I’d been naked for so long, I’d become accustomed to it.
Then he moved so I could walk out. My shoes sat on the bed along with something else.
“Sit.”
Stubbornly I sat, used to following his command even in a short time.
He picked something up. It didn’t make sense until after it was around my neck. As quickly as my brain registered what was happening, my hands were fastened behind me. I was staring at him, almost pleading for him to stop what he was doing. His response was to place a bag over my head.
“Please, don’t do this,” I begged.
“You should have thought of that before you took a mile when I gave an inch. Remember you called me the bastard when this is over.”
“Please, my king,” I said in a last act of desperation.
“You’ve ruined your nails. No one likes a broken doll except those who plan to break it more.”
Then he clicked something to the collar around my neck and tugged. I dug my heels in, berating myself for not trying to get away when he’d unlocked the chain from around my leg. Why had I been so stupid? Then again, hindsight was always twenty-twenty, wasn’t it?
He pulled harder. The collar was lined with something soft, and I doubted would easily leave a mark on my skin.
“Your only play is to cooperate. Otherwise, I’ll give you something that will make you more compliant.”
I stood, not wanting to be drugged with anything. My only chance was to be coherent. I let him lead me. Without my hands to balance me, I stumbled along. My breathing became more labored as I played out many horrible scenarios in my head.
Though I couldn’t see, he instructed me when we came to stairs, letting me know when to step. Then there was more light. Under it, the bag wasn’t completely obscure. I swore we passed lockers and the vague memory of my arrival came back to me. Were we in a school? That made little sense.
We ended up in a room. When the bag was removed, for a minute I was disoriented by all the light. I stood in front of a window in another room like you see in detective shows. But I couldn’t be in a jail. I’d heard no other voices. In front of me, a camera stood on a tripod.
“When I point to you, you will say Daddy, please, like your life depends on it because it does,” King said.
Then he fished something out of his pocket and placed it in his ear. “We’re ready,” he said.
The eerie silence allowed me to sort of hear what was being said to him.
“Call… fifteen seconds.”
King stepped back. From what I could tell, he’d be out of the view of the camera. The collar felt stifling. I struggled like I couldn’t get air.
“Easy now,” he said. “It will all be over soon.”
That was what I feared. As silence persisted, I heard more words from his earpiece.
“Give…” Pause. Other words were spoken, but too softly to make out. “Name, now.”
Another voice yelled, “Not my daughter.” They were familiar, but then King pointed to me.
“Daddy, please,” I said. It wasn’t all an act. If my father were alive, I would have begged him to help me.
Fifteen seconds later, I heard an entirely different voice repeat the words I’d said.
My shock expression must have helped whatever was happening here.
“Okay, Okay. Just stop,” I heard. Then everything went silent. A red dot that had been on the camera went dark.
“Good girl,” King said. Then he leaned over. “Remember everything you learned.” Panic suffused me. “You look like you want to kiss your king goodbye.”
Did I? I focused on his mouth, wanting to take back everything I’d done and stay with him. Better the devil you know.
“But I’m not a prince, little bird.” Softer even, he added, “I wouldn’t want to be a king either. They are so easily overthrown.”
He didn’t give me the chance to decide what he’d meant by that before there was a tiny sting. I glanced up at him in horror.
His gorgeous, grinning face was the last thing I’d see. “Goodbye, little bird.”
I swore I heard him add, I wish we had more time to play. But maybe that had been wishful thinking as I was sucked into nothingness.
SEVEN
I woke with a jolt and sat up in bed. My bed. I still wore my clothes. Even the hat was on a chair in the corner of my room. The sounds of a subway train passing confirmed that I was, in fact, home in New York.
How had I gotten here? I stumbled out of bed to get to the purse that sat on my dresser. In it were my wallet, phone, and small makeup bag with the necessities. My ID, I thought. Along with my key card, someone could have entered from the garage where a spot slated for my apartment remained empty unless I had a driving guest.
