When I turned back, I noticed a pair of black heeled ankle boots by the bed with sharp, pointed toes. I sat and pulled them on.
Was this who I would be from now on? Another painted clown in the House of Clowns. Or whatever name he called it now.
I sighed and walked down the stairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, he opened the door and looked at me, scanning me from head to toe.
“Well, look at that,” he said. “You clean up better than I thought, Doll.”
He circled me once, his fingers hovering close, as if touching me would burn him, yet he wanted to anyway. His eyes lingered on my corset, then on the red lines curling from my lips.
“Didn’t think you would actually follow orders,” he said, stopping behind me. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”
“I didn’t do it because you said so,” I said. “I did it because I had no choice.”
He laughed softly. “You’ll do everything I say.”
Before I could move, he gripped my braid and yanked my head back, forcing my eyes to his. His other hand slid under mychin, pushing it higher.
“See?” he whispered.
My jaw trembled, but I forced a glare up at him. “You’re a monster.”
His thumb dragged across my lower lip, smearing the red paint along my cheek. “And you’re pretty when you don’t talk.”
I wanted to slap him again. I wanted to scream. But all I could do was breathe, as he leaned in close enough that his breath traced the side of my neck.
“Out there,” he murmured, “you’ll do exactly what I tell you. You’ll smile when I say smile. You’ll bow when I say bow. You’ll be mine in front of everyone.”
He stepped back just enough to study me again.
“If you embarrass me,” he said, his voice suddenly sharp, “I’ll remind you what happens when dolls break.”
“What happens?” I asked, not sure why I gave him the satisfaction.
His grin widened, teeth glinting in the low light. “They get stitched back together. Piece by piece. My way.”
I swallowed hard.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black leather choker. A thin golden chain hung from it, ending in a small padlock. And from his neck on a short metal chain, there was the matching key.
Without saying a word, he opened the padlock and wrapped the choker around my throat. When he fastened it, the collar sat snugly at the base of my neck. He clipped the golden chain to the ring in front, locked it in place, and slipped the key back beneath his shirt.
He pulled the chain, forcing my chin upward until I met his eyes.
His smirk spread as he wrapped the chain around his hand,tightening it until I had to take a step closer just to breathe.
“Walk,” he said.
He turned, giving the chain another pull. I stumbled forward, following him like a dog on a leash.
“Where?” I managed to ask.
“To my tent,” he said, glancing back at me, the chain still clenched in his fist. “You’ll learn to follow before you learn to speak.”
1. Go fuck yourself.
X. LIAR
Shehadthatlookin her eyes, somewhere between lust and hate. The way they caught the light, it was like stars fell into them and drowned in green. Is this what falling for someone feels like? Because if it is, I don’t want it. It took me a long time to get this cold, and I was good at it. The people I grew up with taught me well, and love was never something I learned.
