B0114

There was something about purpose that could completely transform the state of mind for a person. It didn’t have to be big or even grand. So long as it was serving, that’s all anyone needed to continue carrying on. At least me.

As I scrubbed the blood from where the head had been on the wooden floor, I almost wanted to smile. I was cleaning. My Master was eating. So far, I was still alive. Perhaps I expected him to be dramatic about it, throwing the meal across the room like Lionel, my mother’s ex had a habit of doing. Or maybe I thought he might toss it in the trash for it not being good enough. So far, that wasn’t the case. And something as simple as him enjoying what I made left me feeling…relieved. Maybe even slightly giddy, which was ridiculous, but it was the truth. It wasn’t a big accomplishment, but it was something in months full of nothings.

“You, by the wall, go see if I have any hot sauce.”

“Yes, Master.”

My eyes stayed down at the bloody, soapy water. Footsteps padded against the far side of the room, and I followed them to the kitchen. Should I tell her it was on the second level of the refrigerator door? No. The less attention I brought to myself, the better. I’d stay like this. Take my time. Make sure not a speck of blood remained.

“They taught you to cook here?”

Instinct wanted me to lift my head, but I continued to scrub.

“I took many classes for a variety of different things, Master. I had hopes of becoming a d1, but I’m afraid it didn’t work out. The meal you’re eating now is the first I learned to cook when I was young. Eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes. It’s a common breakfast from the area I’m from. You didn’t have tortillas though…or flour, or I could have made them from scratch. I used to enjoy doing that.”

The sarcastic laugh was barely audible, but it didn’t escape me. Something about it stirred my blood in a bad way. It was mocking to a life I missed more than anything and it made my heart ache unbearably.

“Elaborate breakfast. It must have been nice growing up with such pleasantries. I was lucky to eat sometimes. Breakfast is whatever I managed to scrounge up. Sounds like you fared just fine.”

Anger left me scrubbing harder. What did this Master know about my life or what I had to endure? He didn’t have a clue what I had gone through, or what traumatic horrors I’d had to face. He may have been a victim of circumstance, but it’s not like he was the only one in the world who had ever faced hard times.

“I bet every meal was a feast for you. Was it three courses or four? Let me guess, you even had dessert after dinner too. Probably even a snack before you got tucked into your soft, cozy bed.

“No. Not even close.”

“Don’t get modest now, Miss Perfect. Did you enjoy your fancy food? I bet you lived like a little princess.”

“Sure. I even wore my crown as my mother fucked the butcher just to make sure she could feed me. Great memories. At least we didn’t go hungry though.”

The clinking had my stare shooting up and mouth snapping shut. Narrowed eyes displayed emotion I couldn’t begin to read.

“Forgive me, Master. I didn’t mean…I…I’m sorry.” Faster I scrubbed, grabbing the towel and soaking up all the water I could. I needed to kneel. To keep my mouth shut before I said something that got me more than a death glare.

“So, your mother fucked for food—

“Only once that I know of. I was young and she asked to work for it, but.” I stopped. “I wasn’t supposed to hear.”

“Big deal. I bet you still had a nice house to live in. Let me guess…relatively new, one-story on a corner lot. I bet it even had a white picket fence portraying the perfect family that lived inside.” He paused. “Bikes on the front lawn. Sprinkler going as you and the neighborhood kids ran through the water, having the time of your lives.”

My brow was drawn in as I stared at the floor. The memory was one I knew well. One I cherished above most, but…only because it was the last good days I had before…

“Once,” I whispered. “My aunt had a house just like that. We lived there for a little while so my mom could save for us a place but.” I stopped. “Once.”

The Master grew quiet, but only for a moment. “Didn’t you have a father to help the two of you out?”

I laughed, angrily, scrubbing so hard I was sure I was scratching right through the wood. I couldn’t stop myself at the bitterness that flooded through. By a miracle, I managed to prevent my eyes from cutting up at the heat that boiled my insides. I shouldn’t keep talking. I was manageable when I was silent. Even pleasant, but not speaking about this subject.

“Answer, slave. Tell me about your father.”

“What father? What are those: boyfriends? Liars? Fathers barely exist anymore. There is no such thing. Not for me.” I snatched the towel from the floor, fisting it as I tried to calm myself. “May I clean this up now, so that I can get back to kneeling?”

Silence. It reigned long enough to have my eyes lifting to the livid source who stared me down. It was enough to have fear overtaking all other emotions I felt.

Had I lost my mind? Had I gone dense in the last few minutes? I’d just been happy with my purpose. One mention of my past and I was ruining it all over again. This time wasn’t training. This time I could very well be killed on the spot.

“Forgive me, Master. I’m afraid I wasn’t prepared for how upset your questions would make me. My life wasn’t easy.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you because of your circumstances? Listening to Mommy fuck? Having no daddy? And fucking look at me when you start talking. I’ll know if you’re lying, so you better not even think about giving me some bullshit sob story that’s not true.”

Tears. No way was I going to cry over this. That life didn’t exist anymore. It was words…it was gone from me now.

“I’m assuming you mean aside from this part, here?” I met his eyes and he nodded. I took a deep breath waiting as the other slave handed him his hot sauce.

“Talk.”

As he poured, I searched where to even begin. We’d always been poor. My mother didn’t make it a habit to fuck people to take care of us. She was an extremely hard worker, but there were times we needed to survive, so she did things she didn’t want. That wasn’t even the worst of it. I wasn’t even upset by it, which had to show how bad off psychologically that I didn’t even care.

“My mom dated a few guys throughout my life. She was pretty protective over me, so she didn’t really get serious with any of them until I was older. She worked a lot back then and I guess…well, I stayed a lot with friends so I wouldn’t be alone. Or…one friend.”

“So, what, you were raised by your friend’s family? Let me guess, they were mean to you.”

“No. Quite the opposite. At first it was wonderful. I liked being there a lot. Bailey was my best friend, and her family loved me.” My eyes rolled as I tried to stop the tears. “For a while, it was fine. It was a few months before I turned thirteen when bad things started to happen.”

“Bad things, how?”

I let go of the towel, ringing my hands. “The normal bad stuff.”

“What? Someone touched you?”

“You could say that.”

“Who? The brother? Father?”

My Master’s face blurred, almost unrecognizable as I tried pushing back the memories.

“Her stepdad. It started off as small things. A touch here. A hold a little too long, there. I thought maybe I was getting uncomfortable for the wrong reasons. He’d lay on the ground and ask us for backrubs. I didn’t understand it. Weeks went by. I…almost didn’t go back but my mom kept asking questions, and I thought maybe it was all in my head.”

“So? You told her you were being molested? I’m assuming that’s what this is all about.”

Anger. It was in every word he spoke. My head shook, and I almost couldn’t go on.

“Not quite. Back then. That night.” I bit into my bottom lip searching for the words. “Seth got wasted worse than he usually did. I mean, usually he had a few beers while barbequing, but Rebecca, Bailey’s mom was out of town. He was different. He kept tossing back shots of liquor. The way he kept looking at me, I didn’t like it. I told Bailey I was sick, and I was going home. It was already dark, and I only lived a block away. I left and it was fine, but I barely made it in the house when Seth came pulling up in his truck. My mom was at work so I—”

The Master let out a groan. “Let me guess, this is the part where he rapes you.”

I stiffened, the tears spilling over at his callousness.

“He did. He got me pregnant. I was barely fourteen.”

“Wait.” His head shook. “You’re serious.”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“Yes.” The Master stopped. “He raped you and got you pregnant?”

“Yes. I have a son. His name is Kyle. He’s four. He’s probably with my mom now. He was at daycare when I was taken to be brought here.”

Whatever was going through my Master’s mind, I couldn’t read. There was a blankness, but a hard one taking over his face. The plate was thrust to the side and the other slave ran over to grab it as she headed back for the kitchen.

“I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You better be fucking lying.”

My lips parted. Confused, my head shook again. “Master.” I stood, pulling up the gown just enough to show the scar from my cesarean. “What I speak is the truth. I have a son.”

“From a pedophile rapist?”

“Yes.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Last I heard. He’s in prison for what he did. Although…maybe for not much longer.” My words faded towards the end and a sickening feeling nearly made me sway. With me gone, wouldn’t Seth have access to Kyle? Would he even want anything to do with him? What if he did? What if he tried to get custody of him? Was that possible with his history if they thought I was dead?

“I…” Was I standing? God, I was, and I was walking, running, right for the bathroom without asking permission.

Bile burned my throat, and I heaved as I hovered over the toilet. I’d done so well blocking the outside world. To not think about my son or mother was all I could do not to lose my mind. Maybe I held to hope a miracle would happen and I’d get free. Maybe not this year or next. But someday…What did that mean for the meantime? I hadn’t let myself think of that. My heart or state of mind couldn’t take it on top of everything else I was faced with. I’d thrown myself into training and had been content for my life’s sake to lose myself to it. Not anymore. I’d been forced to face the truth, and I couldn’t stomach what that meant.

More I heaved, gagging through the flashes of my past. It was something I never wanted to remember. Something I hadn’t even let myself relive until this moment. I had to stop all of this. I had to get back to where I was before I opened my mouth. No words. Obedience. Silence. Quiet calm.

“I’m headed down to the city. I have something I have to do. We’re done for now. Hurry up and finish and then get yourself something to eat. You don’t even have anything in your stomach to throw up. You’re worrying yourself sick over nothing.”

I nodded, not able to respond as I tried to catch my breath. The Master was already gone, but his words did little to reassure me. I’d opened pandora’s box of terror. Every bad scenario was now running through my mind and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Kneel.

Kneel.

Kneel.

I flushed, grabbing the toothbrush that was mine. As I hurried through the act, I did everything I could to erase the past. I had to stay in the present. It was the only way. I was a slave. Ashlee Dawn Wilkens was just as dead as the outside world thought her to be. This was my life, and it was going to be a short one unless I got back into my role.