Free Hear Me by Skye Warren Page A

hadn’t. She saw in his eyes disgust and fury. She saw herself turned away, cast off once again. The empty plastic doll left on the floor. Then he veiled his expression. “I’m going to go work. I need to just…you stay in the house. I mean it this time. Stay.”
    Hmm. Like a dog, indeed.
    She stayed in her seat as he left the cabin and locked her inside. She really shouldn’t mind. After all, she hadn’t forgotten what they had done to her, but the more time that passed the quieter her fear.
    Her sense of self had returned, but it wasn’t a switch. Not off, then on, but something that stood and stretched and grew stronger with each kind word and gentle touch. She should be content to wait as his feet, to be put away when he no longer wanted her, to be shut out of his thoughts and emotions; she wasn’t.
    It was like she had been trapped at the bottom of the ocean in a hellish Atlantis. Then she had broken free and started swimming. Still deep, everything had been muted. She’d swum higher and higher and now she could see the surface, kicking furiously, dying for a single breath.
    She didn’t know what was at the top. She only knew that she had to get there.
    Despite her uncertainty, she wouldn’t disobey. She still worried that someone might be looking for her, and it was too dark to see. And even with her newfound strength, she didn’t mind submission. There was a clarity here, a peace. She had only minded the way Brendan had spoken about her. She only worried he might be correct.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
    She woke in the dark, a book in her slack hands and a blanket over her knees. She must have drifted off, but where was Sam? Harsh breathing was too familiar, suddenly. A dark presence that taunted with its stillness.
    Her throat tightened. “No.”
    “Yes,” Brendan murmured. “See? You know me, even if you think you don’t. You know who your master is.”
    The words made her breath catch, strange and meaningless to me. “Sam will come.”
    Hands enclosed her wrists, warm and firm. “What will he see? You submitting to me. Didn’t he tell you about his last girlfriend?”
    Oh God. Sam.
    “He won’t want anything to do with you then.” Lips coasted over her shoulder, bringing goosebumps to her skin. “Where will you go? All alone in the woods. I’ll take care of you.”
    It sounded like a threat. Would Sam hear her if she called to him?
    “Come on, little girl.” There was the pain she expected, almost wanted. Deserved. His fingers dug into my skin, pushing her down. “Fight me. I liked it when you fought.”
    But she didn’t. She let him undress her, let him push her down onto her hands and knees, let him cup her breasts and squeeze. What could she do? Nothing, nothing at all. He was too strong, and she was too scared.
    She imagined Sam working out there, just one building over. He would be tired by now but frustrated. Something had bothered him, so he kept sanding, cutting, stripping the wood with his hands. Then he would finally let go of whatever it was, through will or sheer exhaustion, and come inside to see his brother fucking his pet. Again.
    She could do nothing. She was nothing. All the names that they called her—whore, slut, cum-hole—when had they become true? His fingers were inside her cunt, that part of her both exalted and feared. They worked in and out, drawing out pitiful moisture, making her ready.
    She remembered arriving in a cold building. None of the girls would meet her eyes.
    A sharp pain on her scalp and her head was pulled back. A voice against her ear. “My good girl. You’ll be my good girl. It’s what you want.”
    They’ll never break me, she had promised to herself, silent and fierce. But what could she do?
    Each time they beat her body, her mind would drift away. She could feel the pain, but it didn’t matter so much in that empty house of hopelessness. This time, she felt the currents of his cruelty pull her out to sea. But she went somewhere else