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He looks down at me in disgust. “Wash your face.”
He uncuffs me and storms toward the door. He doesn’t even bother to put the collar or the ankle cuffs on me, he’s so angry.
Then he pauses in the doorway and looks back at me with a great weariness on his face.
“Your technique when I choked you, it was good,” he says. “It would have worked on anyone but me. You’ve gotten much better, very quickly. You’re actually a natural.”
He waits expectantly.
“Thank you, Master,” I whisper, and as he walks away, the thought springs unbidden into my head.Fuck yourself up the ass with a nail-studded baseball bat, Joshua Smith.
How dare he lie to me just to make me feel badly, when I’m spending every waking second trying to please him? How dare he expect me to continue living like this, when there’s no reward, no acknowledgment, ever? Hearing him admit that he lied to me about my technique makes me so angry I want to cut his throat and watch him bleed out.
And wait, wait, wait…something else…
My mind frantically picks through everything he just said.
“Upping the reward for your safe return…” If nobody knew I was missing, then why would there be a reward in the first place? Master certainly wouldn’t have made it public and offered a reward unless someone had come looking for me.
Wild fury seizes me. He lied to me. That lie was worse than anything else he’s ever done to me. He lied to me knowing how I was abandoned by my own mother and how that haunted me with self-loathing. His lie broke my heart, made me feel worthless, made me feel ugly and invisible.
Something in me snaps. I can’t submit anymore. It’s the beginning of the end for me, and I can’t even wrap my head around what that will mean.
I stagger off to the bathroom to wash my face.
As I’m walking down the hall, trembling with fury, it hits me.
Mark.
The man in the doorway.
There’s a strong possibility it’s him. He knew where I was going. He talked to me about work sometimes. He used to work in computer security.
Fear fills me.
I am terrible at lying to Master… No, fuck that, to Joshua Smith.
He can see right through me. Just by looking at me, he’ll see that I’m trying to hide something from him. And he’ll torture me until I talk. I won’t be able to help myself. He’s a one-man Spanish Inquisition.
There is only one way to save Mark. And now that I think of it, one way to save myself.
I look in the mirror. I am Tamara Bennett.I have been kidnapped by Joshua Smith, who tried to break me and make me into something I’m not, but he failed.
I am at peace.
Joshua hurt me horribly when he told me that nobody was looking for me. Now I know the truth. There’s at least one person out there who cares, and that is enough. And that is worth dying for. This nightmare is about to end. I will finally float free away from here.
I start running the water in the bath. I fill it up with bubbles so he won’t see. The razor that he uses to shave my pussy is in a drawer with cans of lather and washcloths; I hide it in a cloth and carry it to the tub.
He finally got sloppy. My plan worked. I’m just not escaping the way I’d planned. But this will do.
I slash my wrist under the water, hunching over so the camera won’t see the look on my face. It hurts way more than I expected. It’s searing agony down my wrist, but the thought of giving Mark up to Joshua hurts worse.
Time ticks by, and I start to slide into oblivion. Warm, delicious lassitude swallows me, and I float away to freedom.
I wake up to horror.
Because I’m not dead.
