Page 46 of Violent Delights

Fear.

“Shut up,” he snaps at me. “Finish your goddamn sandwich.”

“Did you find that name on the card you took?” I ask. “The card that was in the coat’s pocket?”

He glares at me, his fists clenching around the rope.

“If you don’t shut up right this second,” he hisses. “You’re going back to the attic. All night. Understand?”

We freeze in an angry stare contest. I know I can’t get into any trouble as long as I keep my mouth shut, but I’m not done asking questions. I’m getting somewhere with this. I’m getting under his skin, which means that I’m moving in the right direction. There’s something there, something he’s terrified of.

What if he made another mistake? A mistake so big that it could destroy him?

“Do you understand?” he presses, locking me down with his intense eyes.

He’s already in the process of getting up from the bed. If I don’t give him the reply he seeks, he will drag me over to that horrible room in no time, leaving the half-eaten sandwich and the luxury of my gilded cage out of reach for an entire night.

Is it worth risking? Is there anything I can draw from him at this point that would make this sacrifice worth it?

No. I decide that it is not.

“Yes, Master,” I reply, obediently lowering my eyes as I finish eating my sandwich.

I think I may know enough to understand what’s going on here.

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