Silent Daughter 3: Owned Page 7

  “Are you really?” I wanted to know, and that’s when he snapped and told me everything. About his former business, the kind of people he used to be involved with, and about his plan with William Bishop.

  He is working as his broker to prevent him from starting a joint venture with a drug cartel to invest in a hotel complex that he could just as well invest in by himself. William didn’t know that the company that was so eager to start this business with him is a drug cartel; all he saw was a great opportunity to join in a giant business that would profit him more than doing this on his own would. The cartel wanted to pull him in for his money and his name and thus increase their territory by working with one of the big fish around.

  “A bad boy turned good,” I whisper, and Leonard looks at me with an amused smirk.

  “Is that what you think I am?” he asks.

  “Obviously,” I say. “I mean, what you’re doing is using your acquired knowledge on those bastards to save an innocent man, his business, his family, and with that, my family, too. Isn’t that right?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Good guy, huh. I might have to punish you for saying that,” he whispers. “Just so you remember.”

  He casts me a dark look, causing my heart to jump in inappropriate ways.

  I reciprocate his look with a sassy smile.

  “You're practically an angel,” I tease him.

  He narrows his eyes.

  “You're in a feisty mood today,” he says. “I might have to resort to your favorite philosopher's advice to remind you of who I am.”

  I raise my eyebrows in question.

  Leonard leans in closer, his lips close to my ear as he whispers: “When thou goest to a woman, take thy whip.”

  I blush. “Nietzsche.”

  “Exactly,” he whispers while his hand travels along my inner thigh.

  I instinctively close my legs, hoping that no one notices his inappropriate intrusion.

  He’s not a nice guy, not soft-hearted and dewy-eyed. But he has strong convictions. He never fired the gun he owns, even on that day when it would have been so easy to kill Charlie.

  I am equally overcome by horror as I am with love and adoration every time I remember that scene. That moment when Leonard threw himself between a gun and me, not thinking about himself for a second. All he wanted was to save my life.

  Yet, he wanted to run away once the deal with William Bishop was sealed. He’s too used to being on the run, even though he doesn’t have to be anymore. It’s in him, still. But somehow, he is still here, and I have a feeling that he will be for much longer than he originally planned.

  I take his hand and our fingers intertwine in a strong grasp.

  Of course, he had to let me go that day. He lost consciousness, scaring me for a few moments before he opened his eyes again when the police and ambulance arrived at his house.

  His watchful eyes were following me the entire time, worried that I might tell them the truth about me being there. I'm sure he anticipated to be locked away that day, not expecting that I might lie for his sake.

  But I did lie. Not for his sake, but for ours.

  I gave them a crazy story about what had happened, and came up with all of it on the spot. I’m still proud of that.

  I could have told them the truth and let them lock up another lunatic.

  But this is my lunatic.

  I’m still wearing his collar, but it is a different one. It is one that we chose together, one that I am choosing to wear. Of course, my mother had to point out that my silver “choker necklace”, as she called it doesn't go well with my dress, but that doesn't stop me from wearing it with pride. It feels strangely liberating, and there is no leash attached to it.

  Unless when we’re playing.

  Playing captive is so much better than being one even though, sometimes, I catch myself missing those times. That haunting desperation of not knowing, really not knowing what will happen to me.

  The horror, the fright. There’s a certain attraction to it, still. It will never be the same because Leonard is no longer just my Master and owner.

  I own him just as much as he owns me. He’s my partner. My lover.

  My twisted lover.

  The only man who ever gave me what I wanted, even though he gave me a little too much of it.

  The man who holds my hand in a tight but tender grip while we witness the wedding ceremony of my older sister. Both of us misfits in our very own way, sharing a dark secret.

  The only person who was ever truly interested in me, who is just as addicted to me as I am to him, and who hates having to control his urges.

  He isn’t normal, and neither am I.

  We are perfect for each other.

  The End

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  As he continued to walk around the bed and talk into the air, I stared at the ceiling and felt the blood drain away from my head and every limb on my body. The realization was slowly solidifying in my brain that he really truly intended to keep me here…as his sex slave…forever. I could only compute bits and pieces of what he was saying to me as I started going into shock.

  “…tests that I have devised myself to determine how best to discipline you and help you submit to me fully…”

  His voice started to go in and out like a radio that wasn’t tuned properly. I didn’t know if I was hyperventilating or if I had stopped breathing, but I felt like I was on the brink of passing out and, between the effects of the drug he had given me and the feeling of terror over the news I was receiving, I had the sensation that my head was being pushed underwater over and over again.

  “…I am well aware of your desire to submit, and I intend to explore your limits and push you beyond them…”

  I tried to move but my body wasn’t responding. I wanted to ask him why he was doing this to me but my lips wouldn’t even open. I felt like all of my senses and bodily functions were betraying me now, that he had control of them. I felt tears roll down my cheeks and into my ears but there was nothing I could do to relieve the tickling sensation they caused. I was his captive now, and he would do whatever he wanted to me from now on.

  “…from this point onward your will is no longer your own. You belong to me.”

  With those last words, he stood at the head of the bed and hovered over me. I looked up at him, hoping that somehow he would suddenly turn back into the old Jake I knew, smile his warm smile and untie me, but even through the blurriness of my tear-filled eyes I could see the cold look on his face. He stuck his hand between my legs and pushed his middle finger up inside me and his smile turned into laughter as he felt how wet I was. He pulled his finger out and shoved it into my mouth, then pushed my head into the pillow with his hand and almost gagged me before pulling it back out.

  “You can’t fool me, Abby. I know everything about you. Everything.”

  He threw the covers over my body then turned the lights out as he left the room, leaving me alone in the dark.

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