Fuck!
Selix cleared his throat. “Everything okay?”
Nothing’s okay.
“I want to leave. Immediately.” I jerked hands through my hair. “Is the yacht ready?”
He opened the rear door. “Yes. All prepped and ready for sail.”
“Good. I want to leave this shitty country as soon as I can.”
“I’ll call ahead. Make sure we leave the moment you step on board.” He closed the door, encasing me in the black sedan before dashing to the driver’s side.
Taking one last look at Pim’s prison, I muttered, “Take me to Phantom. Now.”
DEAR NO ONE,
I don’t know what happened.
All my notes and confessions to you…they’ve vanished. Did you take them? Please, tell me you took them. I can handle that. Tell me you’re sick of me writing to you, and you flushed them down the toilet, or burned them, or tossed them out the window.
Tell me anything as long as it isn’t that Master A found you.
Don’t tell me that!
They were there before breakfast yesterday. I checked.
I didn’t check last night as Mr. Prest kept me company.
But now, I’ve lost you.
I don’t want to lose you!
Oh, no. I hear him coming.
Shit, No One…what if he—
“You damn little bitch.” Master A shot across the room, snatched up my letter, and shredded it into confetti.
No!
My heart screamed as if he’d murdered a living, breathing friend.
“All this time, you’ve been writing and hiding it from me!”
Stop!
I cowered, slipping off the bed to bow on the floor. Any humanity and self-awareness I’d earned thanks to a few hours with Mr. Prest disappeared. I slithered back into my role as slave, pressing my forehead against the carpet.
Don’t hurt me.
Just kill me.
I wished for freedom. I begged for happiness. But I wouldn’t find either of those here, especially now my notes to No One had vanished and Mr. Prest was gone.
He’d left, knowing what I’d suffer—understanding how severe my punishment would be from him touching me.
It’s not fair!
None of this is right.
“You fucking hid these from me!” He held out his hand even as shredded words dripped from his fingers. “Give me the rest. Now!”
Tears slipped over my nose, seeping into the white strands beneath me. I ought to be relieved. Master A hadn’t been the one to take them.
He wasn’t a good liar. He preferred to gloat too much.
That meant the thief was Mr. Prest.
Why?
How could he?
A slap painted my cheek. “Give me the other pages, Pim. Don’t make me ask again.”
I don’t have them, you asshole!
How could Mr. Prest take my last possessions? Not after he stole everything with his kiss…
How had he found them?
While you slept. While you trusted.
That isn’t possible.
Is it?
“Silence won’t keep your secrets this time.” Master A paced, his body hyped on adrenaline. “Don’t tell me where they are. I’ll tear your room apart and find them myself.” Ducking to his haunches, he hissed, “And when I do, the punishment will be the second most painful thing you’ll live through.”
Wait, second?
What’s the first?
What a stupid question!
My nostrils flared as my mind tried to untangle the puzzle.
Confusion kept me befuddled, prone for his fist as it sailed through the air, connecting with an awful thunk on the side of my skull.
Oh, God…
The agony. The pressure. The throb.
Wrapping my hands over my head, I toppled sideways, biting my tongue to stop from crying.
“You can avoid that, if you tell me where the rest are. I’ll give you one last chance.”
I blinked back stars as my eyes shot around my room, doing my best to spot the pages before he could.
If Mr. Prest had found them, why did he take them? Maybe he didn’t know what the paper was and left them on my dresser or abandoned on the floor? Was that what the dollar butterfly was for? As payment for my darkest, deepest innermost thoughts?
He’s a thief.
He took my first kiss.
Just like he took my novel.
But why?
“Answer me!” Master A punched me again.
Stars became sunbursts, obliterating my vision completely.
Every inch of me wanted to crawl, run, sprint away. I couldn’t stop my mind racing.
Why did he steal my treasured words?
To read my emotions and laugh? Laugh at my stupidity and slavery?
He said he would forget about me.
Why take something to remember me by?
My hands scrabbled at the carpet as I rode through the current wave of agony. The unfolded dollar butterfly brushed my fingers—just as broken as I’d become.
Snatching it, I used it as a talisman of hope. As long as I held it, I would survive.
I hoisted myself forward, doing my best to move away from abuse.
Squatting by my head, he chuckled. “Trying to crawl from me, sweet Pim? Stupid girl. You know there’s nowhere to go; nowhere to hide. A few hours with that son of a bitch and you’re already ruined.”
My stomach roiled with nausea as he stood up again.
“But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you remember who your master is and what happens when you forget.”