Why did she talk? Did she not fear Master’s punishments? I was forbidden to talk, never to raise my head, only to follow his commands and to kill.

I waited for the poison to return to my blood. I waited to feel pains in my stomach. I waited for the need to kill to overwhelm my body. But nothing happened.

No poison.

No pain.

No rage.

I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Nothing made sense.

“Please,” the female whispered, and shuffled back off my lap to bend down and look in my eyes, “are you okay?”

Gripping her arm, I spun her around and lifted her hair off her back. She let out a fearful cry when I did so, but I needed to see her number. Her neck came into view. There was no number. I searched her back, her arms, and her wrists. No number.

Confused, I sat back. Why didn’t she have a number?

The female turned to face me, her brown eyes wide. I stared at her. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember what the other females looked like. But I couldn’t remember their faces. Something stopped me from remembering. I remembered fucking them. I remembered their numbers. But I couldn’t remember them … yet I remembered everything since I’d met her. Every part of her face, every strand of her long blond hair, every inch of her soft pale skin.

The female suddenly moved, catching my attention, and retrieved her clothing. Without breaking her gaze, she pulled it over her head.

Her cheeks were red, and she was shaking.

She stood, and my heart seemed to stop. She was leaving. I didn’t want her to leave. Her brown eyes filled with tears, and she turned in the direction of the stairs. I’d hurt her. I hadn’t meant to. I didn’t want her to go.

Something inside of me made me lurch forward and I wrapped my hand in hers. She looked back, her lips trembling.

My chest tightened.

Something inside of me made me pull her forward. She gasped, but that didn’t stop me. I wanted to hold her, touch her. When her stomach hit my chest, I wrapped my arms around her waist.

I heard her sniff and closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t leave me. I always felt fire, my mind stabbing with hurt and pain. But since she had been brought to me, I hadn’t felt any of it.

She took the fire and pain away.

She made me feel … safe.

The female didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she ran her hand down my cheek. I pulled back and looked at her. Her eyes softened and she said, “What is it? Tell me please? What were you looking for on me?”

I took a couple of steps back and lifted my hand. Taking my finger, seeing she was watching me, I traced my finger over my identity number on my chest, 221. I was 221.

The female’s eyes were still watching me as I lifted my head. I nudged my head toward her body and pointed to her chest.

Her eyes widened and the redness drained from her face. “You want … you want to know my number?” she asked.

I nodded my head. I tapped the back of my neck and pointed at her neck, too. A fast breath left her lips.

The female carefully moved forward and gently got down to her knees. She reached down for my hand and threaded her fingers through mine. I stared at our joined hands and felt warmth wrap around my body.

“Look at me,” the female said. I lifted my head.

She brought our joined hands to lie over her chest. With my palm against her skin, I could feel her heart racing.

I gazed into her dark brown eyes and she explained, “I don’t have a number.” My eyebrows pulled down. She didn’t have a number? I didn’t understand. Her hand squeezed mine. “My name is Talia. I have a name, not a number.”

My eyes dropped as I tried to understand how she had a name. Her hand tugged on mine. “Do you understand? Do you understand that I don’t have a number?”

I nodded my head slowly. I saw her take a deep breath. Her eyes fell to my chest, to my number. “Do you … do you know your name?”

Confusion fogged my mind. My name? I had no name. I was 221. I was Master’s 221.

The female’s hand pressed against my cheek. As soon as it touched me I felt calmer, warmer. “Listen to me,” she whispered. “You’re safe. You’ve been freed from that man.”

My body tensed. I didn’t understand. Why was she saying these things?

“Do you understand? You’ve been freed,” the female repeated. I looked into her eyes, but I could sense in her no lie.

Dropping my head, my heart beat faster as I thought of the word “free.” I was free? From Master. From …

But when I looked around the dark room, it looked like everywhere else I’d ever lived. Chains. Chains trapping me to the floor. Darkness, no light, and only me for company. I was always alone.




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