Page 117 of Make Me Scream

“Does he ever talk about the other women he’s killed?” I ask. “Has he told you who they were, or when he took them?”

“He doesn’t like talking about that. Don’t ask.”

The one upside to having Mundell present, apparently, is that he brings his slaves better food than what usually comes out of the dispensers. By the time he brings us cut up pieces of chicken parmigiana on paper plates, my stomach quakes with hunger. I’d love to throw mine back in his face, but Chloe assures me if I refuse a meal, I won’t eat until the next one.

At Mundell’s request, Chloe informs me of the procedure for meal service: we wait at the back of the cell until he slips the food through the bars. When he’s far enough away, he’ll toss us the keys to unlock any cuffs we may be wearing. Once we eat, we’ll pass the empty dishes through the bars, then cuff ourselves, if necessary.

“He will make sure we tighten and lock the cuffs. Don’t be stupid. He checks every time. No exceptions.”

Apparently, Mundell is a better cook than he is an artist, because the chicken actually tastes good. Eating with my hands is messy and undignified, but admittedly I feel better afterward.

“Very good,” he says, once he’s set aside the plates. “Now, since this is Toy’s first day, and Pet has not seen her art before, I would like Toy to paint for us both.”

Fine.

Let’s get this over with.

Once I’ve cuffed myself, Mundell opens up my jail cell. I consider trying to rush him, but then how would we get out of here? He won’t tell us the code to unlock the stairs. I have no choice but to let him chain my body until I can barely move. My ankles are locked to a grate in the floor, assuring I won’t take a single step in any direction.

He sets up the easel and paint supplies for me, then releases one of my hands so I can paint.

“If you feel tempted to push over the easel or spill that paint, remember what will happen to Pet,” Mundell says, pointing at his neck. “Toy, if you need Pet to pose a certain way, feel free to ask her.”

“Yes, master,” I say, scowling at him.

I take my time. In truth, I prefer to draw with pens and pencils; it’s not like my parents ever bought me painting supplies. Of course, I don’t give a flying fuck if Mundell likes my work, so I don’t worry about it. After what feels like a long time to me, he begins to glance at his watch. He taps his foot, then starts pacing. Is he dropping subtle hints for me to hurry up, or is he just impatient?

“Put the brush down, Toy. I’d like to see what you’ve done.”

“I’m not finished, Mmster.”

Mundell reaches into his pocket. I cringe, realizing I’d pushed too far. The resulting shock fries my synapses, causing me to drop the brush.

“I wasn’t asking you, Toy. Do as I say, when I say it, and that won’t happen again.”

“Yes, master.” I force myself to adopt a contrite tone. If I give him attitude, the next shock might not be for me.

I inhale slowly as the pain subsides, glancing down at the fallen brush. The way he has me bound, I can’t bend over to pick it up.

“Don’t worry,” Mundell drawls. “I’ll get it.”

He comes close. It’s enough for me to throw a punch, maybe catch him with a jerk of my elbow or knee.

I know I shouldn’t be thinking this way; the more I entertain these ideas, the more tempted I’ll be to act on them.

Mundell stops behind me; I can’t see him, but I can feel warm breath against the small of my back. He chuckles as his hands grip my hips.

“Isn’t our new Toy beautiful?” he says.

Our new toy, he says. As if Chloe is his partner and not his prisoner.

“Yes, master,” she says, looking away.

“I knew you’d be ours the first time I saw you, Toy. And you can thank both Lane and Mr. Franklin for showing me how you’d look without your clothes, since I couldn’t picture it myself. That was very helpful in confirming my decision.”

Chloe trembles, her expression wretched. She knows what’s about to happen. I do too, though I’m not letting myself admit it.

“Toy, I’ve waited long enough,” he says, cuffing my free hand behind my back. “Your painting is subpar, by the way. Clumsy brushstrokes, improper perspective and inconsistent coloration. Now be a good Toy. Don’t make this difficult.”

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