Page 40 of Filthy Liar

I just want to run.

I want to get out of here and disappear.

I should have left when I had the urge. My gut was telling me to, and I didn’t listen because my vagina was screaming louder. I close my eyes and a single tear slides down my temple. It’s all the moisture I have left inside of my body. I’m thirsty, hungry, and tired.

So damn tired.

My body gives out, and my eyes close.

I pass out.

What feels like just seconds later, I’m awoken again. I’m not sure why immediately, and I try to lift my arms and sit up again, forgetting that I’m tied to the bed. My body doesn’t move. Sucking in my lips, I try not to cry out as the hard metal of the handcuffs around my wrists bites into my skin to the point of pain.

“You’re awake again,” that same rough voice calls out before I see his body standing in front of me.

He lets out a husky laugh, then clears his throat. “The men of your little group are busy, although I have to admit that it’s partially my fault. I would have thought they’d have at least sent a prospect out looking for you. That place has been quiet.”

I don’t respond to his words. He wants me to lose hope, but he doesn’t realize that hope is already lost for me. It was lost a long time ago when I was a little girl. I know I’m nothing more than a chess piece to trade around.

I realize it wholly now. And as much as I wanted to feel a sense of freedom by leaving my childhood behind me, it’ll never be behind me. It’s always front and center. It’s always part of me, and pieces of it can never be shaken off.

This is just a piece that will never be shaken.

I am the Southern Mafia.

The Southern Mafia is me.

I will never be anything more. Never anything less. I will be part of them because I was born into them. Fighting it has done zero good. It’s time that I embrace it as who I am as my identity. I’m Albert’s granddaughter. I’m my father’s daughter, even though he’s dead. And I am my brother’s sister.

My brother, who fucked over a bad group of people but left me a house.

A house that I’ll probably never see again.

Then I think about the dishes in the sink and wonder if one of the girls is going to go inside and notice that I’m not the best housekeeper on earth. Are they going to judge me? I mean, I’ll be dead, so it won’t matter, but my spirit is going to be embarrassed as hell.

“We’ll be moving you, but only because we want to play. I’ll be back.”

He marches away, his words having struck not only panic but also fear in my heart.

Play.

Play.

Play.

The word is on a constant loop in my head. I can only imagine a million different bad scenarios, which is why he saidwhat he did and walked away. To torture me. I can’t help but wonder what will happen when Humble finds me. Is he going to get vengeance for this, or will he shrug it off?

I’m just a thing he owns. He doesn’t have any feelings for me, not really. I’m sure he’ll react because his toy has been damaged. But otherwise, I wonder if he’ll care much past that.

And that causes my heart to squeeze. Because I was falling for him. Stupid quick. But I was still falling. And I know it wasn’t real, at least on his end. I feel really dumb. I wanted him, wanted what could have been.

I knew I couldn’t keep him. I wasn’t planning on it, but I was enjoying myself. I was going to take those memories of him with me and keep them tucked away forever. It was a plan, a dumb one, apparently. But it was mine.

Just when I think that everything is as bad as it can be, the door opens again. Turning my head, I suck in a gasp. Oh, I know who is here, and I know it’s going to be bad. So damn bad.

“Conrad,” I whisper.

“So you remember me.”

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