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“Yeah, yeah,” I say unenthusiastically.
“Oh, great idea. We can make her do all sorts of things. Like, serve us our food naked.”
“And then she can sit at our feet while we feed her,” Rachel keeps going.
“And if you eat all your food,” Lik tells me. “We won’t flog you when we tie you up downstairs.”
I swallow the ball of pleasure stuck in my throat and attempt to ignore the wetness now coating my panties. They know I get turned on by the humiliation, and they know how to use it against me.
“Where’s Sam?” I change the subject.
Lik shrugs. “I don’t know, he said he’d be home late. I’m not sure I’m a fan of these.” He pulls at the pink pajamas.
“Hey,” Rachel calls out. “I love them, okay?”
“She looks like the Care Bears. The pink one. But skinny. I don’t think that’s her look.”
“Well, I picked it, and I think it’s great.”
“I can pick my own clothes,” I try to add to the conversation.
“Ssh, this doesn’t concern you,” Lik waves me away.
A loud knock on the door makes us all startle.
Shit.
“What the fuck?” Lik mutters as he gets up. “Who comes knocking at this time?”
No. No. No. No. I’m not ready.
“Wait!” I jump up. “I’ll get it.”
The knock resonates again. Violently this time.
“Absolutely not. You two go upstairs,” he says seriously as he approaches the door. Next to it, he opens a cabinet and enters a code before grabbing a gun out of its safe. He puts the bullets in and unlocks the safety.
As expected, Rach and I don’t go upstairs. But I keep her behind me anyway because I know I don’t risk anything.
“Lik. Just let me open, please,” I try to force past my throat. But his dark stare tells me not to move an inch from where I’m standing in the open living room.
He unlocks the door and opens it in one vast movement before pointing the gun at whoever is on the other side.
Just shoot. Don’t look. Shoot.
But his shoulders relax as a hand comes to push his gun down. “Shit, you scared us. Hi, baby.”
Sam comes into view, and Rachel and I calm down instantly.
“I forgot my keys,” he says low.
Oh. He isnotin a good mood, and everyone can already feel it. Great, that makes two of us.
“Will everyone please stop pulling guns out every five minutes? We do not live in a James Bond movie.”
“You’re dating a hitman, a gang member, and a girl who came back from the Wolves. Our film is better than James Bond and definitely needs guns,” Lik mocks her.
I can’t laugh because Sam comes towards the sofa where Rachel and I are and silently takes us in for a minute. The fluffy pajamas, the smell of hot cocoa, my bleached, half-braided, half-down hair.
