Page 52 of Stolen

The owner dragged me across the floor by my wrist to the bedroom door so fast I barely had time to find my footing. We passed Kayla, who had now stoppedstruggling and screaming, and was just staring blankly at the ceiling as the attacks continued, tears dripping down her already bruising face.

I wanted so much revenge for her. This wasn’t her fault. It was mine, but this man was vicious and demanding, and I wanted nothing more than to rip his goddamn throat out.

He pulled the door open and threw me inside. Landing on the floor, I rolled at the impact and rose to my feet, hands in the air, ready for another go with this motherfucker. Closing the door, he leaned back against it and crossed his arms over his chest, a devilishly charming smile creeping across his face as he stared me down. He truly was the devil in a beautiful disguise.

“You”—he pointed—“have a beautiful voice. But I still prefer it screaming.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” I shouted carelessly at him. “It was just one goddamn song, not an act of rebellion. Now let her go!”

He raised his eyebrows in a very nonchalant surprised manner. I was really contradicting my new persona of slave girl, but at the moment, I didn’t give a single flying fuck about it.

“Careful, little slave,” he warned, cocking his head to the side. “I’d watch that tone if I were you.”

That warning was enough to remind me that even though I was full of rage and adrenaline, he was still a lot bigger than I was. Rationality quickly took over my emotions as I reflected on the last time I fought him, proving I was seriously lacking in my skills, and I didn’t want to relive that again. But if he came after me, I would not hesitate for a second.

In an attempt to calm down, I relaxed my stance into a simple standing position but still kept my hands up and released a heavy, sad breath through my nose.

“It was just a song,” I said, toning down my attitude a little.

“And what do you think the act of singing represented?”

“Nothing. I started humming to myself, and then it turned into words. I don’t understand what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is you’re giving them hope when there is none.”

I just stood there with my mouth open like an idiot. He really did want to sell broken women, didn’t he? They were probably easier to deal with and much more likely to be compliant. What a sad, miserable life this man must lead.

“I didn’t encourage them to sing along,” I said smoothly. “They did that of their own free will because they wanted to feel something other than fear and pain for just one second. Can you really blame them?”

“Yes, I can,” he said, stepping forward. “Silence is what’s safe. They should know that by now, and because of your antics, they’re all going to suffer.”

“What?”

He turned on the TV hanging on the wall in front of the bed, and at least a dozen security screens popped up. I saw it in the upper right-hand corner. A guard was holding what looked like a fire hose, and he was dousing the shit out of all the slaves while they cowered away in their cages.

“You motherfucker!” I shouted, charging at him with all I had, but he had anticipated it.

He blocked my kick to his chin and threw himself at me, forcing me down to the floor. His big body covered mine while he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them to the carpet on either side of my head. I tried everything I could to buck him off me, kicking him in the back, but it was all for nothing, and I was just tiring myself out.

“Struggle, baby,” he growled with amusement. “I love it when you fight me.”

“Get the fuck off me, you sick piece of shit!”

“I knew you weren’t broken,” he seethed in my ear. “I should kill you right now. In front of all the slaves and make an example out of you.”

“Good,” I spat back, unfazed. “Then I’ll finally be rid of you and this shit hole.”

Damn, that was bold, but I said it before I could even think about it. I didn’t know where my head was, but it certainly wasn’t in slave mode anymore.

I saw the twinkle in his eye as the corner of his mouth turned up into a tight little smirk. His face moved in closer to mine, and I quickly turned away, looking over toward the bed as the tip of his nose ran along the side of my throat. And then I felt his fat, wet tongue lick up the side of my neck all the way to my jaw. I jerked my body in repulsion, but he just kept me there pinned under him while more knots formed in my stomach.

“I think I’m gonna call your bluff,” he whispered in my ear and immediately flipped me over onto my stomach. With my wrists secured behind my back in one of his hands, the tip of a sharp knife appeared at the base of my throat. I held my head up as high and away from the knife as I could. A single centimeter forward would cause it to pierce my skin.

“Go ahead, tough girl. You want out so bad; here’s your chance. But understand that this is theonlyway you’ll ever be rid of me,” he sneered.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

I was silent then, my breaths coming in heavy and harsh as he suddenly presented me with another choice. Submission or death. All I had to do was jerk my head hard enough, and it’d be all over. No more pain, no more fear, and no more misery. But he knew full well that I wasn’t ready to die. I wasn’t ready to give up, either. However, I was being stupid. I was letting my pride and emotions get the best of me when I should have been thinking about what was more important: staying alive.

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