Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
I breathe heavier as I stare at her. Tears well up in my eyes. I’m shocked. A part of me wants to tell her how awful my life is and take her up on her offer to stay at her place, but I can’t move. I sit here mutely, scared out of my mind.
I’ve never told a soul about my home life.
She reaches across and sets her hand over my good one—the one with the crayon. “You need help,” she repeats.
My tears are gathering in the corners of my eyes, but I’m a pro at holding them back. When I let them fall, my father beats me harder. But he’s not here now. “How…” The one word trails off. I can’t speak without crying, so I bite my lip and hold my breath.
She rubs my fingers with her thumb. “Lacey, I’ve seen the bruises on your arms and legs. Plus, you’re lefthanded, and you’ve been holding that crayon in your right hand all evening. I’m not sure how you were going to color with it. I’ve been waiting to see how ambidextrous you are.” She gives me a small smile.
I sniffle to suck back my tears. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not. Someone needs to look at your arm. You’ve been wincing since you got here.”
“I just tripped and fell is all. I’m clumsy. I braced myself with my arm. It’s no big deal. It’s probably sprained.”
Amelia holds my gaze for long seconds as I try not to look away. “You told me you’re twenty years old. Is that true?”
“Yes.” I flinch. Why would I lie about that?
“Why do you still live at home?”
I shrug. “It’s cheaper. Lots of girls still live at home at twenty.”
“Not ones who are regularly getting beaten.”
My breath hitches. My ears are ringing. I’m freaking out. If Amelia knows, who else knows? Lie, lie, lie.
A shadow falls over us just as a male voice fills my ears. “Good evening, Little ones.”
I pull my hand from Amelia’s and turn to face the Daddy as he plants his hands on the edge of the table and leans over toward the two of us. He’s smiling, but his face falls. “What’s wrong?”
I want to jump up and run from the room. How will I ever be able to come back here again? I can’t face these questions. I thought I’d done a good job hiding my problems.
The Dungeon is my refuge. It’s the only place I ever go. I can be myself here and hide from my life. It’s like stepping into one of my Daddy Dom books for real. I come here and pretend I’m one of the heroines in my books.
To make things worse, the Daddy glancing back and forth between us is Brian. He’s the handsomest Daddy who comes to the club. I don’t see him very often because he doesn’t live here. He visits on weekends sometimes.
Normally I’m so excited to see him when he comes, but right now, I want to fall through a hole in the floor, and I shoot a glare at Amelia, begging her not to tell Brian about my father.
“Girls…” Brian warns in a firm voice. “Someone tell me what’s going on.”
I don’t look at him. I keep staring at Amelia.
Amelia purses her lips for a second but then releases them and turns back to Brian. “Aren’t you a nurse? Lacey fell and hurt her wrist. Maybe you could look at it? I bet she needs an X-ray.”
Part of me wants to scream at her for tattling about me, but she didn’t tell him what really happened, so I have to thank her for that. Still, she’s meddling, and I should be mad.
I pull my hands under the table and put them in my lap. “It’s not a big deal. I’m fine. Really.”
Brian pushes off the table and stands to his full height of almost six feet. He stares down at me with narrowed eyes. “How about you let me take a look at it, Little one? We can go in a private room so no one pays any attention to you.” He holds out a hand.
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I promise. I should probably get home anyway. It’s getting late.” I push my chair back a few inches.
“Lacey…” Brian says in a commanding Daddy voice.
I hesitate. He seems determined. What could it hurt for him to look at my arm? It doesn’t change anything. I’ll still tell him I fell. I’ve perfected the art of looking adults in the eyes and lying about my clumsy behavior. Even though I am an adult now and have been for a while, I still feel like everyone is more adult than me.
What if he thinks I need an X-ray, though? I can’t do that. I can’t go to a clinic or the hospital. My father would lose his shit. Plus it would cost money. I don’t have money.