Page 74 of Tyrant

The entire vibe of the apartment has suddenly changed. I should have just grabbed and played with Naya’s breast. As I stand there, I feel different. I feel colder. I feel slightly evil.

Maybe I’m just being a little cocky because of Tyrant. Maybe for the first time in a really long time I feel like I have something that everyone else wants. I feel protected and I feel spoiled. Okay, fine, I’m relying on intense orgasms and exploring the world where pleasure and pain meet. There’s nothing wrong with that.

“I’m on my way to meet with Esme,” I say. “She wants to check up on me and see how I’m adjusting. I kind of feel like I’m on display for everyone. But I can’t be the only one, right? There’s so much happening around here all the time. Has to be.”

“That’s why I told you, I take the moment in front of me,” Naya says.

She takes a deep breath and then another right away. The way she blinks fast, I know she’s starting to have a panic attack. I move toward her and she puts her right hand out.

“I have meds,” she says. “Go to your meeting. I’ll be fine. Just getting caught up here. That’s all.”

“You’re never going to fuck him,” I say. “And he’s never going to fuck you. Tyrant is off limits. Don’t ever say anything flirty tohim ever again, Naya. Now go take a pill. Then sit down and take deep breaths. Four seconds inhaling, four seconds exhaling.”

I turn and leave the apartment. Strange how the place felt likehometo me for about three minutes before things got crazy. Hell, who am I kidding. Things have been crazy since I woke up in my old bed to find masked men surrounding me, ready to complete their planned and paid for kidnapping. Everything in front of me is designed.

For a split second I picture myself running. Right now. Literally.Running. I just take off running, off this path. Find my way off this compound and hitchhike until I decide I’m far enough away.

Then what? I don’t know. Change my name. Come up with a clever backstory. It’s a flirting thought. A fleeting thought.

I hear a noise to my left and I turn my head to see someone watching me. Tall, muscular, black boots and black jeans. A black T-shirt that wraps around thick muscle. A mask on his face.

Menacing. Deadly. Pure evil.

My eyes look at his chest. From my distance I see the outline of the nipple piercing. My stomach twists and turns and then I feel something like butterflies.

Tyrant is still following me. Still stalking me.

My inner thighs shiver and wetness is called to appear between my legs. I continue my walk. As quickly as I’m turned on by Tyrant, I also realize that I’ll never escape. I’m trapped. This is home.

Whether I like it or not.

Esme stands outside her office,arms folded. I’m late.

Oops.

In my head I hear a voice saying sorry. But I don’t apologize. I walk into the office and see another person standing near the corner window. That person then turns and I’m tossed back into my old sense of normal for a second.

“Olivia,” I say.

Olivia spins around. Her eyes look heavy and sad, yet she smiles at me. The first thing I think?

My stepmother is dead. Please tell me she’s dead. Tell me she’s dead and that I can leave here!

“Oh, Serafina, look at you,” Olivia says. “You look…”

“Why are you here? Is everything okay?”

Olivia fidgets with her fingers. Behind me the office door shuts.

“What is happening right now?” I ask.

“We normally don’t allow visits,” Esme says. “You’re still in your transitionary period, Serafina.”

I look back at Esme for a second. Then back to Olivia.

“Is she dead?” I whisper.

“What?” Olivia asks, eyes going wide. “Bridgette? Dead? Oh, heavens no. She’s far from dead. I wanted to come say goodbye to you, Serafina. I’m moving. I’m leaving the country. I’ve met someone.”

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