Page 42 of Savage Desires

"See, he got you punished! You could've died," Lucy accuses.

I narrow my eyes on her. "Kisten didn't know anything about my situation. He tried to help me. And he bought me to save me. If he hadn't been there that night, we would all be dead."

My words make everyone but Lucy relax… Stacia seems to be waiting to see how Lucy will respond, but even she looks less hostile than she did.

"He still owns you," Lucy snarls.

"I'm glad! I'll proudly be his. He's a good man! I'll get down on my knees and willingly thank him in whatever way he wants for buying me. He owns me, and I wouldn't change it!"

I'm yelling by the end of my statement. I was so lost in my anger that I didn't notice that Kisten had returned holding a cup of coffee and a tall glass of lemonade. My anger deflates, and I sag in my chair, looking at my plate like it's the most interesting thing in the world, even though my appetite has disappeared.

Kisten quietly sits beside me and sets my lemonade on the table. From the sound of forks scraping on plates, I can tell the other women have decided to pretend that the argument didn't happen. None of them are brave enough to accuse Kisten of anything to his face, only talk shit behind his back.

I'm pretty sure Lexis, Tabitha, and Reghan acknowledge that Kisten is one of the good guys and isn't going to hurt us. Lucy is just a spoiled bitch and is taking her anger at her situation out on everyone else. Stacia is just weak and willing to be a pawn to Lucy's whims. I don't know why I'm surprised by Lucy's change of demeanor. She played the part of the broken slave who cried at every turn. In reality, she was just manipulating everyone. I don't know how I didn't see that sooner. Pisses me off that I fell for her act.

Kisten rests a warm hand on my thigh and gently squeezes it. It makes me feel better even though I'm embarrassed that he heard me declare I would happily get on my knees for him. Even if I didn't mean that I would sexually pleasure him and more that I would worship at his feet for saving me, I know how it sounded.

If I'm honest with myself, I'd admit that I would be more than happy to pleasure him as well. I've never been attracted to a man like I am to him. I was taken when I was too young to have such intense feelings towards someone. Now I'm a grown woman and am feeling attraction for the first time. It's both scary and exhilarating.

He's not been inappropriate with me; for all I know, he's only taking care of me because he feels responsible for me. It could be completely platonic. It probably is… who would be attracted to a woman who's been a sex slave for six years. I'm damaged beyond repair.

Dirty.

Ruined.

The negative words keep coming. Spinning in my mind like a maelstrom of acid. Each one is a reminder of how unworthy I am of someone like Kisten. Another squeeze to my thigh breaks the spiral. Kisten leans in and pushes my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear with his free hand. I glance over at him and find him looking at me with an intensity I've never witnessed from anyone before.

His lips brush against my ear as he speaks for only me to hear. "You're my prized possession, beauty. Mine."

Shivers skate down my spine at his claim. A whole field of red flags is waving in front of me, but I don't care. Being his doesn't scare me. The thing that terrifies me is him sending me away. No matter how hard I try to make it make sense, I can't explain it. I'm his, and it feels like I've always been his. Like I've just been waiting for him to come claim me. At the same time, I think he's mine. It doesn't feel like a one-way street. As ridiculous as it is, something tells me Kisten is mine as much as I'm his. Even when my mind tries to convince me otherwise, how he looks at me and how he acts contradicts my thoughts.

I could be wrong. It'll be a painful crash into reality if I am wrong, but I've already decided to soak him up while I have him. He's the only good thing I've had in forever, and I refuse to deny myself. I'll deal with the fallout afterward.

"Do you hear me, love?" His voice is still whisper quiet, but there's no mistaking the command in his tone.

I nod.

"Good girl. Eat."

Another shiver races through me at his praise and command. I think I would do anything he asks just to get another 'good girl' from his sexy lips. Especially in that low voice that caresses my insides, filling me with heat.

I easily obey. Picking up the chocolate muffin. I remove the paper and tear off a small piece. There's no holding back my moan of pleasure at the rich, chocolatey goodness. It's so soft it melts on my tongue. It's the perfect balance of sweet and bitter from the dark chocolate chips baked inside. I eat two more bites before putting it down and picking up the blueberry muffin. I eat two bites of that one. It's good, but the chocolate was definitely better.

I eat a bite of each quiche, enjoying the savory flavors that explode on my tongue. I've seriously never eaten something so good. Not even when Dad took me to fancy restaurant openings as his plus one instead of a date. People gave him hell for it, but he always said he would rather spend time with his forever girl than someone looking to be seen on his arm. It always made me feel special. My mom didn't want me, but my dad chose me every single time.

A slight pang of regret burns in my heart. I've spent a long time over the years wondering what my dad's been doing since I disappeared. Did he find a nice woman and settle down? Did he stay single and lonely? What if he started a new family and forgot all about me? Part of me hates that thought. If I had to be in pain, then everyone should be. His being as miserable as me was a small consolation when compared to what I was living through. As the days and months turned to years, my hopes for him changed from selfish, childish wants to prayers that he found happiness somehow.

I know he was devastated by my disappearance. Undoubtedly, he did everything in his power to find me. He probably blamed himself for not protecting me better. It wasn't his fault, though. Hell, it wasn't even my fault. I did nothing wrong. I was in the wrong place and at the wrong time. Or maybe I was stalked, and it was premeditated. I won't ever know for sure.

Either way, I was walking from the café where I sometimes did my homework—okay, it was more about the amazing cookies' n cream milkshake than homework, but homework got done, too—to Dad'sgym. It was less than a block away. You could see the gym from the door of the café, that's how close it was.

So close to safety, yet so far away. Being alert to possible dangers didn't prepare me for the flower delivery man. Standing in the van's doorway, he looked benign, as if he was reaching for his next delivery. It took seconds for him to turn and grab me. I fought like hell, but three grown men against one sixteen-year-old girl was an impossible to win fight. I didn’t go down easy. In the end, I was conquered by a needle stabbed into my neck. The burning liquid stopped my struggles as I fell into darkness.

That was it.

I was trained in every kind of self-defense and could fight grown men like a teenage badass, yet it took seconds to render it all useless. All that work and time spent learning to protect myself didn't matter. I force those thoughts away with the strength of an exorcism. I spent forever coming to terms with what happened and realizing I couldn't have done anything differently to prevent being taken. I was up against multiple grown men. It was impossible. I won't succumb to all those ugly feelings and thoughts again.

The only thing that lingers is thoughts of my dad. Now that I'm free, nothing is preventing me from finding him. Getting answers to all those questions I've had over the years. I could finally know if he found happiness after I disappeared or if he's still suffering from losing me. If I'm being honest, both options scare me.