Page 83 of Where We Ended

“Thought I was out of town, didn’t you?” Dirk smirked around his cigarette. His tall stature was folded into one of Sasha’s armchairs, his wide, barrel chest was covered with a white t-shirt, revealing sleeves of tattoos down his exposed arms. It was the ones along the side of his face that were truly gruesome.

My fingers trembled as I kept my back to the groceries that were going to spoil now.

Dirk slowly stood from the chair, stretching as he went, and exhaling a breath of smoke.

“You did, didn’t you? That’s why you worked later and drove in past dark. You never come in this late, little Fawn.”

He took a few long strides in my direction, making me step to the side, so I had an exit.

Tilting his head to the side, he paused with a smirk.

“You know better than to hide from me. Come here, let me see you.”

My heart felt like a thundercloud was roaring behind it. My body trembled and inside I was silently screaming for Silas to come back for me.

“You know the deal, Fawn…come to me, let me see you. Give me your arms.”

I took another step back on instinct. We’d done this dance before; the first few months Dirk had started paying attention to me, I’d tried to fight, which resulted in me gaining a broken femur and then a broken finger. Silas showed up at my job, assuming someone there was responsible. He’d stayed home longer than he usually did, which was the only good thing to come of Dirk’s attention on me.

Now, years in, I knew better than to run or to fight. Dirk was stronger and a broken nose might be enough to prove to Silas that something was going on. If Silas found out what Dirk was doing, he’d kill him, and then all of Dirk’s loyal men would kill Silas and probably Sasha.

“I said come here, Fawn.”

A sob caught in my throat as I held my arm out, old burns were scarred into them already but if I wore long sleeves, no one noticed.

His tongue clicked. “This time, I want you to strip for me. I want to watch your flesh burn in a more creative place tonight.”

If he was willing to burn me somewhere that would cause Silas to be suspicious, then he was getting more assertive.

“I don’t have all night, and if you drag it out any longer, I might just decide to let go of my gracious attitude and fuck you instead.”

Flicking a quick gaze to the door, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head. Dirk’s dark eyes looked nearly black as he stared at my cleavage, and the lacy black bra holding up my breasts.

“Your skirt next.”

A tear slid down the length of my lash as my fingers wrapped around the copper button. I flicked it open and pushed my skirt down, leaving me in a pair of black bikini underwear.

Dirk stepped closer, exhaling a plume of smoke against my chest.

“Perfect.” He stroked a finger down my left breast. “Soon enough, you’ll belong to me, Fawn. All this flawless skin will be mine to ruin. Mine to taste.”

I was shaking as another tear slipped down my face, dripping from my chin.

“Take off your underwear, Fawn. You shouldn’t have such a fuckable ass…it’s too tempting to ignore. I need to see a pink little burn disrupting the perfect smooth skin.”

Turning toward the counter, I clung to the edge after pulling my underwear down. Dirk didn’t touch me except to extinguish the butt of his cigarette in the globe of my ass. The burn felt the same as always, and yet the shock of pain never seemed to get any easier to stomach. My fingers clenched the edge of the counter so hard my nails chipped.

Dirk hissed, and then groaned as if this was deeply enjoyable to him.

The second he stepped back, I pulled my underwear up, heaving as sobs trapped the air in my lungs.

“If you’re worried about The Roman seeing it there, I suggest getting ink to cover it.”

I continued pulling on clothing while he made his way to the exit. Before he opened the door, he called out, “If you’re so worried about coming home after dark, then wear my patch, Fawn. No one will touch you if you belong to me.”

The door slammed behind him as he left, and I ran to the bathroom. I vomited the small remnants of my lunch into the toilet and then I started the shower.

I didn’t even wait for it to warm up, the heat would hurt the burn anyway. I just needed to scrub the feeling of him off my skin. The washcloth and bar of soap left my skin raw and red as tears streamed down my face, my braids remained, the loose strands sticking to my face.

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