Page 54 of Degrading Her

She shook her head. “Goodnight, sis.”

“Night.”

Once I washed up, I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the footsteps on the second level to calm. After it had been silent for a while, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the front door, creaking it open.

The Dairy Barn was dark on the grassy pastures, but the property was silent, and no one stopped me. I ran toward the barn as fast as I could. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I got there, but there had to be a clue. Something that would tell me why there was no information on the Feldman Farm. I needed to know what Sawyer was up to.

A sinking sensation swarmed my lower stomach, but as I approached, the lock had been removed. The door was even slightly ajar. Had someone left it open for me?

According to Maisie’s rules, I could go in.

I slid the door to the side. Wooden crates lined the corner closest to me, some hay bales on the opposite side. Tall metal fences rounded each pen, and in the back, there was a shower stall and sink. An empty trough. A red stain on the cement. An oversized incinerator gleaming under the lights, big enough to fit two couches. And the lights were on.

It didn’t seem like storage, like Maisie had claimed. It seemed like they used this space.

Then I saw the video cameras, held up by tripods, aimed as if each of the pens were a stage. But why would they film the cows?

Red lights hummed on each of them. They were on.

Someone was here.

“I thought they warned you about this place,” a deep voice said. I spun around, looking up at Sawyer. My heart palpitated.

“Sawyer,” I whispered. “I was just?—”

He grabbed my chin. “Why are you here?”

I blinked up at him. “The door was unlocked.”

“Do you know what happens when youthinkyou’ve outsmarted your enemy?” he growled. “You get caught.”

He wrenched a hand in my hair, pulling me down to my knees. He tightened his fist, and I grunted, my pulse pounding through me.

With his grip firm, he pulled me along on my hands and knees. My palms dug into the cement, tiny granules biting into my skin. He shoved the metal door to the side, then led me into a pen. I pushed back, fighting him, but he railed me forward, forcing me like I was an animal. Once I was inside, I spun around to face him. His breath was heavy as he stared down at me. Then he swiveled, messing with a video camera that was aimed at me. What was this?

I had to do something.I had to.

I raced forward, jumping on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck. He grunted in surprise, then threw me off of him like I was nothing. I stumbled to the ground, standing as quickly as I could. He went back to the video camera, huffing to himself like my actions were a minor annoyance.

What was going on?

“What are you doing?” I stammered. “What is this?”

“You like games, don’t you, Fiona?” he asked. “You like winning. Knowing that you’re the best. Proving yourself to everyone around you.”

My mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?”

“Let’s play another game. If you can hold this—” he picked up a bucket of water, “—in front of you, with your arms out, for one minute, I’ll let you go without a fight. But if you don’t,” malevolence shimmering in his eyes, “I’ll showyou what happens when you snoop where you don’t belong.”

“What?” I gaped. “I was just?—”

“Trespassing. Now,” he nodded toward the bucket, “pick it up. Like a good girl.”

The bucket was deep and filled to the brim. How much did it weigh?

“Come on,” I said. “This isn’t funny.”

“Shall I call the cops? Or fire you?”

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