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Good Girl(6)

By´╝ÜWillow Winters



It gets me punished. I don’t want to be punished. I want to be a good girl. I need to be good.

I need to pay attention and follow orders.

“In,” he commands louder and my shoulders shudder, but my body is quick to move. I open my eyes and realize I’m in the back of his car. Not in a trunk or a crate. He shuts the door and I look around, although my head stays forward. I’m careful not to actually move. I can’t show my surprise either. No emotions. I sit silently. My back is ramrod straight and won’t relax against the leather.

It’s been days since anyone has laid a hand on me or even seen me. Traveling is a blessing. But now I’m back to being given to someone else. A new master or keeper or sir. I’m terrified and my gut fills with a wretched acid that creeps up my throat. Tears threaten to well up in my eyes, but they don’t. I won't let them. Maybe I’ve forgotten how to cry. I’m not sure. But I know crying will get me punished. My face is set in stone. Expressionless, just as they like. Well, as the second type desires. The first type wishes for something else.

I have to remind myself what I overheard Abram say earlier. He said they’d be back. I’ll have another chance at him and Vadik. I just need one chance. This is only temporary. Just like the other times.

I want to turn in my seat and look for the man. For Kane. But my heart hammers in fear. I’m expected to sit, so I will. I stay still and wait. I’m careful to keep my breathing low and my body still. I’ve learned that’s the best way to handle it. It’s as though I’ve disappeared. If only I could.

My eyes close and my body begs to sleep, but I can’t. I’m exhausted from staying awake during the flight, though. I was worried that they would dump me at any point. That their threats weren't hollow and they were truly going to kill me this time. I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep soundly since I was taken.

My body shudders, and it makes my eyes widen with fear. I moved. I made a movement. It’s bad. I want to look around, but I don’t. I listen, and after a long moment, I hear nothing. It’s silent in the car. He still isn’t here. He isn’t waiting behind me to punish me. I wonder which of the two types he’ll be. I hope it’s the second type. They’re easier to survive.

My heart slows, and my head yearns to fall against my chest. My body craves rest. But I resist. Until he comes back and gives me an order, I won’t do anything that will give him a reason to punish me.

As my heavy eyelids slowly close, I hear the door open. I lift my head to attention, my eyes staring fixedly at the floor. I can feel his eyes on me. I know he’s looking at me, maybe deciding what to do with me. But I stay still and wait for his orders.

“I need you to lie down.” I quickly obey, and fall to my side. My wrists immediately feel the comfort of the position. The heavy weight of the shackles is relieved as my body sags into the seat. The shackles don’t irritate me as much as they used to. I’ve grown used to them. But I still look forward to the relief when I’m given it. I see a movement in my periphery and I almost react. But instead I only tense slightly for the blow I’m sure is coming.

The soft fabric lays on my body in a gentle wave. I expect it to cover my head, but instead he tucks it under my chin, covering the collar. I close my eyes as it moves against my neck. The collar digs into the cut, but I don’t say anything. I don’t react. I’m not sure if he’s aware, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t do anything that would anger him.

I won’t put myself in a position to be punished. I don’t know this man, but I’d rather stay obedient than risk his irritation. I tuck up my legs, knowing he’s going to shut the door, but beyond that I make no other movements. After a moment, he stands at the door, watching me. Waiting for something; I don’t know what.

But after that long moment, he shuts the door and I finally let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. And then the driver’s side door opens and the car roars to life. I don’t know where he’s taking me and I don’t ask.

But I know they’ll be back for me. And I’ll be ready for them.

I won’t break until I’ve had my revenge.



I wake up, pinned against a rock hard chest. My eyes pop open and my breathing stalls. But I don’t move. I stay still and pretend to be asleep. I can hear his steady heartbeat and his shoes crunching on gravel. I inhale his scent and resist the urge to bury myself into his shirt. A masculine woodsy pine fills my lungs. His strong arms are wrapped around my back and under my legs. I peek past him and see nothing but a field. A flat field.

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