Master B-0077

Iprobably should have adjusted to fucking my half-sister. After all, I’d had Ashlee more times than I could count in the almost two weeks since I’d bought her. But I hadn’t. I couldn’t get enough. Maybe because it was so taboo and wrong. It was more than sex. Being inside her, holding her, tasting her…it was like regaining a part of myself I’d been missing now for years. Ashlee was mine. She was part of me like no one else. Sure, I had other half-siblings and a father, but they didn’t count in my mind. I hadn’t met or seen them in person like Ashlee. It was just us. Me and her, and this. What revolved around it, I tolerated.

“Did you have to wait so fucking long though? I was about to leave. There’s only so much smashing skulls or human hunts one can endure alone. Did you know I went bowling by myself last night? Human heads as balls…if you want. I think it’s a gag sort of thing and is supposed to be funny. I used the heads, anyway, just because it was cool as shit. When’s the last time you did something fun? You should have gone and stopped being a hermit, Pistol. We could have got drunk and had a blast.

“I’m taking a break from drinking for a while.”

“Break? What the fuck for?”

Music filled the room as I strummed my guitar only half listening to Anthem. His drumsticks tapped against the end table he’d moved in front of him, but even that sound was so far away. I kept seeing Ashlee moan out in pleasure as I looked down at her. Kissed her. The way she stared up at me. It was like a confused captivation. She liked me, and not as a slave pretending so she’d survive. I’d seen that outside in the city. There was something between us but was it real or ingrained in our very DNA. I strummed too hard, not sure I wanted to even think about that.

“Things are about to change in a big way. I might as well tell you. I should be getting a call soon. Any day now really. Fuck. Where do I even begin?”

Anthem didn’t seem to care as he suddenly became focused on my hands.

“What’s that tune you’re playing? That’s new.”

“It’s not mine. I mean, I didn’t make it up. I think one of my slaves was humming it earlier.”

“I can’t believe they’re even still alive.”

“I’ve been too distracted, but the time is coming. Hold on and let me switch this up. Let’s see what comes.”

I kept playing, letting my fingers drift off to different notes, twisting the tune into something darker, more my style.

“Ooh, I like that. Keep going.” Anthem picked up the beat, tilting his head through the chords I repeated. Once. Three times. The song I played reminded me of Ashlee and our situation. Forbidden. Tempting. Wicked and wrong. A sweet abomination that didn’t belong in the real world but that found a secret home at the elite’s evil retreat.

“That is fire.” Anthem was scribbling down shit for me, looking between my hands and the end table as his mind worked its own musical genius. Where he was all work, I was unadulterated inspiration. It weaved and flowed in a melody of deceitful deliciousness, and it was all her. All us. The lure kept me locked in as I didn’t think through the strumming of my fingers. Minutes passed as I looped through what I knew was a chorus, and words jumbled in my head, searching for their place as I repeated the repetition.

“What do you hear? Anything good?”

“Hold on.”

I came to the end of the chorus, beginning again, letting my fingers pick the strings in the web of notes that twisted quickly around each other in their hypnotizing tune. Where most of my songs were rock with a tinge of rap, this was different. My music was already unique, but this…it wasn’t my usual style, and I was digging it even more.

“Behind her eyes it’s all a lie

The girl that cries, dies inside

She’ll never know the truth I hold

A rolling stone; a love on loan.

To fight the pull, she’ll bleed for me.

No call, she waits, the world won’t see.

This dead man pays, he counts his days.

For easier times, a choice to stay.

Anthem wasn’t writing anymore. He wasn’t even drumming.

“Write the shit down before I forget. It’ll need adjusting. More words or… breaks here or there. Write.”

“Yes. Sorry. Son of a bitch. Dude. Dude! Repeat it as I write.” His hand scribbled fast as I continued, coming to a stop as he grabbed his drumstick. “Keep going. We’ll play together. We’ll see if more comes.”

My fingers went to work in earnest, and I began to lose myself again. It was a muffling sound that I couldn’t place that pulled me from the zone. I stopped, my brow drawing in as I tried to place it. Seconds went by, and I brought my hand down over the strings again. Hushed talking had me standing and putting down my guitar.

Hadn’t I told them to stay quiet? What the hell were they doing?

“Pistol, where you going? Leave them, let’s keep working on this.”

My hand shot up, but I didn’t turn around. I stood at the closed door, my lids narrowing through the hum of talking from inside.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. How have you never heard of him? He’s Pistol Stephens. Me and my girls listened to his music all the time. Parties. It’s just what you played. I’ve even been to two of his concerts. I know everything about him. His story is quite…unbelievable and fascinating. He’s twenty-eight. He’s been on the streets since he was a teenager. Like, early teen. He had a hard life. His mother was an addict, father, who knows. Are you sure you’ve never heard of him before? He’s only released tons of number one hits. Hide Away is like one of the most popular songs in the world. Like, the entire world. Did you live under a rock before you were taken? The guy is beyond famous. Celebrity royalty famous. He’s going to go down as a legend. I guess that’s what blows my mind the most. It’s him…and he’s here. He’s a murderer. A druggie, but I guess everyone knows that. With the drugs, I mean. Actually, maybe he quit or is taking a break. I haven’t seen him do any in a while. Not even drink. Have you noticed that too? Oh well. Who cares. You spend a lot of time with him. Is he nice to you? I wish he’d buy me new clothes too. Do you like him?”

“Of course I do. He’s…sweet. Incredible at times. He makes me feel…” Ashlee grew quiet. “We shouldn’t be talking about our Master behind his back. I’m done. I won’t do this.”

“Done? But…we’re just talking. Just a few more questions.”

“I said no.”

“Please. We never get to talk.”

I threw open the door, glaring at the two girls who were kneeling feet from each other, facing the wall. Their back was to me, and only one slave turned around as I barged in. It wasn’t Ashlee.

“Do you want to share with everyone being as I can fucking hear you out there?”

“I’m sorry, Master. I didn’t think I was being so loud.”

“Loud is the least of your problems. You like talking about me? Stand up.”

“Master—”

“Stand your ass up before I make you. You don’t want that, slave. Once my hands are on you, it’s all over with.”

“I made a mistake.” The brunette rose, her body trembling as I called her forward with my finger. “Master, please, I’m just lonely. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I lurched forward, grabbing the back of her neck, and marching her to the middle of the living room. The slave cried out at my squeeze, crashing to her knees as I forced her down. “You know everything about me, do you? And it enthralls you? Makes you in awe of me? Who cares about the booze or drugs. Personal wellbeing doesn’t matter if you’re pushing out the hits. Did you learn that out there too? I may be at my lowest, but my feelings are irrelevant. What I go through doesn’t matter. If I suffer, no one cares. But your feelings matter. All their feelings matter. So, let me cater to you. Have a front row seat to your own personal show because that’s what we entertainers do. What song can I sing to you, slave? Would you like a dedication? How about I plaster on a smile and pretend I wrote every lyric about you. Is there anything else? I’m just so famous. A legend someday, right?”

“M-Master.”

“Look at her squirm.” Anthem’s head cocked to the side as he took her in. “I’ll give you five grand. No, ten, if you’ll let me have her.”

Brown eyes bounced between us, fear making them jerky through their movements.

“I won’t say another word. She didn’t know how great you were. I just wanted her to see—”

“See what? That my mom was an addict? That my father was who-knows-who? That I grew up on the streets? Did I ask you to tell her shit? She already knew some of that, but did it ever dawn on you maybe I didn’t want her to know all the details? That maybe I wanted to tell her in depth, myself, when the time was right? Who are you to decide anything?”

“I’m no one, Master. Nothing.”

“You’re right.”

“Twenty grand.”

My blood ignited in an inferno inside of me at the two of them. One I should have killed a week or two ago, and the other I disliked at times but couldn’t be without either. Anthem may have drove me crazy, but he’d been my closest friend for years. Even family, in a way. If it wasn’t for him or his father, maybe I’d still be playing in clubs. Maybe it might have taken me longer to get discovered. Or perhaps I’d be dead somewhere, overdosed just like my mom.

“Twenty-five.”

“Anthem.” I growled, closing my eyes. “If you would have given me a moment, I would have given her to you for free.”

“Free? Nothing is free with you.”

“I know. There are conditions. Think of it more as a favor. A…friendly gesture for a secret.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Good because this is big. Bigger than I originally thought. I’m sort of in a predicament.”

I glanced toward the door as the slave sobbed and pressed her hands to the floor through her fear. My finger rose to my lip as I turned to my friend, signaling that what I was about to tell him was secret. “I’d like you to meet my half-sister.”

“…sister?” As the slave’s horrified voice cracked, she grew silent at my murderous glare. I turned to Anthem. His stare was glued to the bedroom door.

“Sister?” he repeated, whispering.

“Half.”

“But…how? I knew you were looking into your dad years back, but you said you didn’t find anything.”

“I lied. This.” I laughed, shaking my head. “How is this for fate? Isn’t it grand?”

“You don’t fucking say.” Anthem brought his still surprised gaze to me, laughing incredulously, but keeping his voice low. “I knew she looked familiar. Shit…she looks like you. How did I not piece that together? What will you do?”

“What do you mean? I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. I’ve decided I’m keeping her. For however long, I don’t know. Shit happens, but for the meantime, she’s mine. For me.”

“For you?” At my silent look, he shrugged nodding. “I can dig it. So, I can have this one?”

“For your silence. My sister can’t know. Not until I’m ready.”

“I haven’t spoken a word about anything you’ve ever told me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m trusting you. I’m going to need your help. Like I mentioned before, things are about to change. Massively. Outside here, I have a nephew who’s four. I’ve already worked some shit out, but he’s coming to me soon. I’m getting custody of him. Let’s just say, now that his mother, my sister, is missing and presumed dead, he needs a stable guardian.”

“Holy shit.” Anthem grew quiet, eventually laughing under his breath. “We’re going to have a kid? I like kids. Hell, we can spoil the shit out of him. We’ll make him the most badass kid there ever was. This could be good. Brilliant. We’d have a kid to hang with, to make into a star someday, plus the tabloids will eat it up. It’s a win-win. Pistol Stephens raises dead sister’s son. This could work big time in our favor.”

“I…guess. I haven’t thought much about that part. I’m more focused on the reality of the situation. Kyle needs someone to watch out for him. To protect and raise him right, you know? I didn’t have that shit. I don’t want to mess this up, hence the no drinking and drugs,” I said, glaring at the slave.

“I get it. Mad respect for that, too.” Anthem’s brows drew in. “Where’s the dad?”

“Prison. He raped her when she was thirteen and knocked her up. Her own friend’s dad. It was fucked up, but it happened. Now, I’ll have Kyle because of it. I can’t be mad about that. He’s the only family I got now besides her. No one else matters.”

“Family. We take care of ours. I’ll help you any way I can. The band too. You already know this.”

I nodded, my eyes cutting back over to the slave. She was crouched, but she wasn’t kneeling anymore. There was a wildness, one that had me smiling even more. Future bloodshed. Fucking. A new song. My nephew to raise. A call I was expecting from the Main Master any moment now. The rapist and my father I was going to kill. My sister and real slave, Ashlee. Life was fucking grand.

“Little Miss Perfect. Hey!” Anger tinged my call and seconds went by before Ashlee surged in. She was in a black silk slip-style nightgown, and her stare stayed transfixed with mine. I put up my hand for her to stop, taking in Anthem’s shocked gaze as he glanced between us. He seemed to read my mind, nodding, but not losing the surprise.

“Yes, Master?”

I calmed, smiling at all the wicked thoughts barreling into me.

“Come, sit next to me. I’m going to need your help for this one. Let’s put on a show for one of my biggest fans. What do you say? Can you sing?”

“Me? Oh…no, but I’ll try if that’s what you’d like.”

“You won’t try. You’ll sing for her. Anthem, go to your new slave while we play her a tune. I want to see. I want to watch, and you can watch us too.”

Fear flickered in Ashlee’s eyes as she slowly lowered next to me. She knew things were about to get bad and bloody. Her fingers interlaced, turning white in her lap through her nervous pulls and twists.

“Let’s start with something simple.” I picked up my guitar. “Since you don’t really know any of my music, we’ll play a song you choose. I’m familiar with almost every song released in the last forty to fifty years. I’m quite talented that way. Music of all kinds have been my life. I only have to hear it once to be able to play it.” I grabbed Ashlee’s hand, bringing it to my lips, biting against the edge of her finger just the smallest amount. “We’ll take it slow. You’ve got this. What would you like to sing?”