“Are you hungry?” I asked sharply as I delivered another stroke.
She glanced at me, and I saw the answer in her eyes, heard it in the way her stomach growled.
“Then you’d better move. Are you cold?”
She sucked back tears and paused again to wipe her face.
I struck, aiming where she’d been branded.
This time, she let go of a scream and fell to her side, protecting her hip, watching me accusingly.
“You’d better get used to this. Get used to being treated like this.”
“Like a fucking dog, you mean.”
“That’s a good way to think of it. This is obedience training, and you’re my bitch.”
“You’re a coward. You hide behind a mask. You carry your weapons, against what? Defenseless, bound women who are half your size?”
“Fuck you, Gia.”
“It’s what you do. Own it. But you have to own what it makes you too. A fucking coward.”
“How’d you get yourself caught, anyway?” I asked, gripping her collar and hauling her up to her knees. She fought like an animal. I leaned down so my face was inches from hers. “I’m getting the feeling you weren’t some random pickup.”
“Let me go. You’re hurting me!”
“How? Tell me.”
“I wasn’t a random pickup you fucking prick.”
She shoved at my chest, but she wasn’t nearly strong enough.
“Piss off a boyfriend? He finally get enough of your bitchy mouth?”
Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, a raw and complete pain intensifying the green.
“You don’t know anything about me. Not a thing!”
“Tell me!” I shook her hard, lifting her to her feet and pressing her against the wall. I held her there by her throat.
Her face reddened, and she watched me. I wasn’t sure if she was able to speak or not. Rage hotter than hell burned through me, and I squeezed her neck.
“Fucking tell me!”
She choked out a sob, and when I loosened my hold, she began to cough.
“Did he order your branding as punishment?”
“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” she choked out.
I released her, and she dropped to her hands and knees, still coughing.
“He’s a murderer. A monster.” She paused, turned her face up, and added: “Like you.”
I narrowed my gaze, although we both knew she was right. The room stood strangely quiet, her on her knees at my feet, eyes red, cheeks wet with tears, hate spearing me.
“Just like you,” she said again, sitting back on her heels and lowering her gaze, giving herself over to the tears that seemed unending. I watched like the monster she accused me of being. The monster I was. I just stood there and watched her come apart until she quieted, and then I pulled the chair closer and sat down, my gaze still on her, as if I’d never seen this before, never seen a person come unglued.
