Chapter 9 – Cinder
Luke’s words seemedto calm my trembling heart that when Master returned not long after, I was already kneeling with my eyes closed and my hands clasped, ready to accept my fate.
“Eyes,” Master’s voice boomed.
I opened them, and as my eyes lifted to his, I knew this was the moment I died. And when his hand came down, I didn’t flinch, not even when he gripped my hair and dragged me to the red room. He ripped the tunic off my body, threw me to the floor, and walked away.
He returned with his hands behind his back. Every second he stood there silently staring at me, my body shook a little more. “Remember this, kitten?” He brought his hand around to the front.
No!My eyes widened, the terror that had always lurked slid down my spine. I began to shake so badly that I bit my lip.
He waved the handle of the whip he held, and the long piece of leather swished in the air, the tiny metal teeth at the end blinking against the red light.
“Please,” I croaked, crawling backward to escape him. His laugh, loud and ruthless, made me shudder.
I’d endured all sorts of pain all my life, but that whip was a piece of cruelty I hated the most. After Mama went away, Master used it on me for such a long time, leaving me bleeding, I gave up trying to stop him until the day I couldn’t move.
He brought a doctor who told him,‘She’ll die from fear alone if you don’t stop, Kabir.’
Master stopped that day. Despite calling it punishment for Mama leaving, he never used it on me again. But along with the scars, that fear of him using it one day remained.
Rolling the whip's handle between his palms, he paced the room. He seemed agitated and kept muttering to himself. I’d only ever seen him like this after Mama went away. Even though I wanted to ask him to bring her back, I wasn’t allowed to. Then the whipping began.
Now, my bottom lip between my teeth, my eyes followed him. Up and down the room. Would today be the day I gave in to my tears? He stopped, looked at me, then moved to the locked cupboard. When he returned to the center of the room, he had the tripod and the camera with him.
“On the bed,” he ordered.
I’d been the perfect, obedient little kitten for so long it was ingrained into every piece of me. A defiance I didn’t know I possessed rose through my veins. I scrambled onto my hands and knees and crawled away, barely reaching the door.
“Trying to run away, kitten? You stupid bitch. You know there’s nowhere to go.” He grabbed my hair, twisting it around his wrist, yanking my head back, tearing strands from my scalp.
Still, I hung onto my tears, wincing through the pain. He dragged me backward, the carpet burning my backside and elbows. My teeth snapped together as he tossed me against the wall. Moaning, I tried to sit up. My bones cried for mercy. I didn’t give in.
Crouching in front of me, his hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing harder and tighter. My eyes bugged as pressure built in my spinning head. His eyes narrowed, making him appear angrier. “Get on the fucking bed, now, or I swear you’ll feel my fingers breaking every one of your bones. If that isn’t enough, I’ll leave you to die slowly!” he warned.
I believed him. He released me, and I gulped air in jerky inhales. On shaky hands and knees, I crawled to the bed, climbed up, sat back on my legs, and waited.
“On your stomach, legs and hands spread.”
I did as he asked. He cuffed my wrists and legs to either side of the bed a moment later. His hands ran down my back and thighs, pausing to finger old scars. I flinched when he squeezed my butt. Then I felt his lips touch my ear. I shut my eyes.
