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I try not to look confused. What does he mean, “try again”?Oh.“Yes… sir.”
He sighs and grips the steering wheel with both hands. “You will call me ‘Master’ when we are alone, or when I specify it is allowed in front of certain people. In public—if we ever go out in public—you will address me as ‘Sir.’”
“Yes… Master.” It tastes so bitter on my tongue. Like the bile I keep swallowing back down.
When I breathe in, I feel my chest rattle.Shit.I think I’m actually going to cry, and I don’t know if I can stop myself.
“Better.” He turns us off The Strip and drives down a darker side road. If anything were to happen to me here, no one would know. “You will speak only when spoken to, and only if I give you permission. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut. You will do exactly as I say the first time I give the order. If I have to repeat myself, it will be the last time I ever do. Understood?”
“Yes, Master.”
“You will take what I give you. No more, and no less. You are my property, and I will take care of you. But the second you start to argue with me, you will wish you hadn’t.”
I stare out the window. “Yes, Master.”
He glances at me, a smirk playing across his lips. “We’re off to a good start,umnitsa. Keep this up, and I might turn your collar into a necklace a bit sooner than I planned.”
My eyes widen.Collar?Oh, God… am I going to be chained up?
“I’m kidding.” He chuckles and reaches over to pat my thigh. “I don’t like the way collars cover the neck. I need somewhere to sink my teeth.”
I wince and that only makes him laugh more. He squeezes my leg, taking advantage of the tear in the dress to feel my skin and wander his fingers further up. Out of reflex, I snap my legs shut.
He moves his hand back to the steering wheel. “Let me make something perfectly clear.”
The way his voice suddenly drops makes me steal a glance at him. He’s staring out at the road, but even in the dark, it’s easy to see he’s just this side of pissed.
“I own you. Which means I can do whatever the hell I want to you. Piss me off, and I’ll chain you up in the basement and let my men take turns with you. Piss me thefuckoff, and there won’t be any turns. And I doubt there will be anything left of you when they’re done.”
The messed-up thing is, I know he means it. These aren’t empty threats meant to scare me; this is the new reality I’m living in.
A tear rolls down my face as the weight of this new reality settles over me. There’s no escaping him. If I tried, he’d probably catch me before I left the grounds. Even if I succeeded, I’d never be able to see Willow again. Doing so would lead this monster straight to her, and I have no idea what he does to children.
Nor do I want to find out.
Another tear, and then another, falls down my face until I feel myself start to shake with sobs.
I told myself I wouldn’t give up. I wouldn’t lose myself to the pain and sorrow like the other women did. But I’m already beginning to feel myself crumble before this new shadow of a life begins.
I hear the crack right before the stinging pain blooms across my cheek. His backhand hits me so hard, my head clacks against the window. I cry out, but the sound is as weak as I feel.
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls. “I haven’t begun to give you a reason to cry.”
I suck in a deep breath and will myself to stop shaking.
“We can do this the hard way or the easy way,umnitsa. Easy way: you recognize I’ve been pretty fucking nice to you this whole time and we have a pleasant first night together. Hard way: you keep this shit up, and I pull this car over and teach you what real crying feels like.”
My head starts nodding frantically before I’ve even processed a response in my head. “Yes, Master,” I blurt. I try to smile, too, as I quickly wipe my eyes. “Thank you.”
He reaches over again, this time to caress my hair almost tenderly. “I will admit,” he sighs wistfully, “I do want you to fight me. I want you to defy me. I want to break your body and your mind, and I want you to make it a challenge. There’s nothing sweeter than the tears of a broken woman, don’t you agree?”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I swallow back the bile that slowly creeps up my throat. Nothing about this tastes sweet.
“Yes, Master.”
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