Page 78 of Striker

“That’s where you’re wrong, Princess.” A finger brushes over my lips. I taste salt andhim.Striker. “You’ve belonged to us since you stepped foot in that club.”

“Since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” Reaper grates, “You have beenours.”

“Seems we have a communication problem,” Breaker says, and I hear something sliding across the floor. “Maybe instead of telling her she belongs to us, we should show her.”

I can’t see shit. I’m held to a table by my kidnappers. I’ve been spanked, forcefully brought to orgasm, and whipped with a belt, but that sentence terrifies me more than anything.

A finger, I don’t know whose, slides up my calf to my knee, dragging my dress up. I kick out on instinct, but one of them catches me by the ankle.

“Scared kitty thinks we’re going to hurt her,” Reaper says. “Didn’t we promise we’d never hurt you?”

When I say nothing, a hand grips my jaw and Striker says, “Answer when we speak to you.”

“Yes,” I say immediately, “but Striker here just proved you’re all liars.”

“That ass beating wasn’t nearly as bad as you deserved,” Striker growls.

“I’d have loved to have seen that,” Viper says, and I feel my dress being lifted higher. “Did you leave welts?”

“More than likely,” Striker says.

Viper’s hungry groan creates a flutter low in my belly, the craving from earlier returning.

“Perverts,” I snap, aware I might as well be calling myself one too.

“Jesus,” Breaker says, “She doesn’t know when to stop.”

I clench my jaw, keeping my retort behind my teeth. Upstairs, Striker beat my ass red, but it wasn't much worse than the spanking Reaper gave me. That night in the woods, I wasn’t hurt. Humiliated, yes, but I’ve not been hurt at all since they took me. Even then, when they took us, I could have been handled far worse and they may have left me alone and cold, confused, but my body was never harmed. I don’t think I’ve been in any real danger this entire time.

“Do you think that’s why we took you?” Reaper asks, a dark edge to his voice. “To torture you. Fuck you and abuse you?”

I shake my head, but when Reaper lightly tugs the belt I stutter out, “N-No.”

“Why didn’t you use the phone, Tiny Thing?” Breaker asks and his voice painfully gentle.

Why didn’t I call for help?I had the opportunity in my hands, and didn’t take it.

Clenching my jaw, I shake my head like this will stop the truth from coming out. I already know why I didn’t call for help, even if I don’t want to admit it.

I don’t want them hurt.

After everything, after watching them kill, after them drugging us, after being left alone, I know deep down they aren’t bad like Cora said.

And these men are right, Rune isn’t good. He’s not even a decent father. He’s a power hungry man and I’ve been trapped by him, forced to perform my tasks like a dedicated daughter. Trained on how to hide his actions. Educated by a cruel man that wants to make me like him. Cold and ruthless, and I’m so desperate for love that I did everything he told me to do. I had no choice. I was born into this life of greed and death and was never allowed the choice to fight my father’s rule.

The moment I was born, all my choices were taken. I didn’t get to pick my parents. And I didn’t get to choose whether or not I did Rune’s bidding.

I just did it and told myself I wanted to.

For weeks I’ve denied the quiet voice in my head that sang with relief. I was free for the first time in my life. Every morning I woke here was another day I wasn’t sitting in my empty kitchen, telling myself that I was going to make my father’s company even more powerful once I took it over. That when the day came, I could rule over itmyway. And until then, I was okay with sitting passively while my father and Zane took over another club or chain of hotels, all while working the numbersto hide what was probably a shipment of drugs or something far worse.

Being here meant I wasn’t obligated to be my father’s protegee. Being here has meant I was unchained even if it’s been at the expense of my freedom.

“I didn’t want to,” I whisper, wanting to turn over, curl into a ball and weep for the woman whose first real choice in life was in the club that night with them. For this stupid ache inside me that’s making tears soak into the blindfold because I craved them again. For the nights that I felt Cora’s touch and wished it was his. Theirs. Even when I wouldn’t admit it to myself, I just wanted to feel that way I felt with them that night. Out of control and worshiped.

“Who do you belong to, Kitten?”

I bite my lip, fighting the sudden rush of tears. “You.” Sucking in a breath, I whisper. “All of you.”

---