Page 46 of The Naughty List

My fingers are so jittery I have to twist them in my lap, or I’ll bite my nails to shit.

It's about thirty minutes later that the bustle of London city truly eases. The calmness of the surroundings gives me a fresh bout of jitters.

It’s been a fair while now since I’ve been out of central London. Being in the city with Connor has always felt alien, ever since we moved. The landscape of standard suburbia feels way more at home.

Home.

How ironic.

“Had a good day at school?” the driver asks, finally breaking the silence.

I look down and find my coat has fallen open, revealing my crested tie. Shit.

“Um, yeah, thanks.”

He smiles in the rearview mirror.

“I used to be a goth at college.”

I could laugh, honestly. He really believes I’m a goth student, fresh out of college. Thumbs up on the appearance front for me. I try to use it as ammunition to quell my nerves.

“You grew out of it, then?”

“Yeah. My parents used to kick off at me headbanging to Cradle of Filth every bloody day in my bedroom. Got older and kind of drifted out of it, you know?”

No, I don’t know. I grin anyway, and use it as practice.

“It’s hard when you play up for your parents, right?”

“Too right. They were always on my case.”

I bet your dad didn’t spank you over his knee, though.

We talk about goth and metal bands, and I focus in on him, trying to relieve the pressure. It works, kind of, until I see the signs forWrensham.

“Almost home,” the driver says, and fuck, the houses are even bigger than I thought. I see the sign for User 762’s road, and tell the driver to stop here, at the end of the street.

“Can you wait a second, please?” I ask.

He must think I’m a total weirdo as I scrabble for two scrunchies from my backpack and put my hair up into pigtails. He doesn’t say another word as I pay him in cash and give him athanks, climbing out with my heart racing. He shoots me a weird glance through the window as he turns and drives away.

Shit. It’s really happening.

I can seeDaddy’shouse up in the corner of the cul-de-sac. I’ve scoped it out a billion times on street view.

My legs are wobbly, but I force myself to walk ahead. Every step feels like a mile, my feet feel so heavy. ReachingDaddy’sdriveway has me shaking like a leaf, so I keep my eyes focused on the doorway in front of me as I pass his Merc parked outside. I click onarrived, to tell him I’m here. The instructions come through in return.

Door is open. Welcome home, darling.

Darling… I’m his little darling. My God, part of me wants to walk away.

I remind myself that I can walk away at any time I want to. There’s 5k up for grabs here. Least I can do is try.

My hand is shaking when I reach the door and clutch the handle. I count down from five and paste a smile on my face, swinging the door open and stepping inside.

I’m expecting posh, but whoa, User 762’s house is like something from an interior design magazine, light and minimalistic. There’s a huge gloss white kitchen at the end of the hallway. It has a huge kitchen island with a breakfast bar, and all the appliances are jet black. Daddy is definitely loaded, and he definitely has style.

I drop my backpack on the floor by the front door, and kick my shoes off on autopilot, then hang my coat up on the coat rack as my senses reel.

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