And then the crowd parts, like the sea in anger, swirling and mad. The woman in the lavender dress appears, her long wavy hair blowing in the breeze, and I smell the dance of wildflowers in the sun after a steady rain.
The breath is knocked out of me.
It is Gabriella.
And she has a collar wrapped around her throat.
Chapter Six
GABRIELLA
It is humiliating, the collar. I have to hold back my emotions with every tug of a leash when he starts walking. I didn’t know this was a part of the deal when we were going out, or I would have wanted to stay at the mansion. I’d rather have the damn bracelet around my ankle than this collar.
Everyone’s eyes are on me, burning me with judgment, and they have no idea how much I wanted them to save me from this wicked man.
“My sweet? Do you want anything from this stand?” He yanks on my collar again, and I take two steps forward, staring down at the wide variety of fruits.
“I would love some grapes, Kendrick.”
“Grapes. They are decadent. A fine treat,” he says, paying for the grapes.
A treat? Does he mean in the sense of they are sweet and tasty or a treat for being good?
Like a damn pet.
If my gut tells me anything, it’s that I am right. Kendrick views me as dog. If I do good on this outing with this damn collar on, I’ll get a fucking treat.
There are times when I was angry at him for hitting me, for screaming at me, for calling me worthless, for feeling me up and touching my breasts when I didn’t want him to, but it doesn’t compare to the rage I feel right now.
Fuck his treat. I hope he chokes on it.
As we walk down the street to enjoy the market, smelling popcorn, cotton candy, and donuts, I am taken back to the time I went to the fair when I was a teenager. I loved the smell of funnel cakes, and I loved hearing the enthusiastic screams of people on the rides. There was one I could never make myself ride, The Zipper. It looked too unstable. There were eight or so carts on it and while it swirled like a conveyer belt, the carts flipped upside down.
No. Thank you.
A tug of my collar brings me out of my dream. Silly little dreams, reminding me of what used to be and what would never be again.
My hairs stand on the back of my neck, but not in a way that makes my warning bells go off; it's something different. I look over my shoulder, glancing around to see who is watching me with such intent. There are the regular people staring back of the collar, but that isn’t what I felt. I felt something else.
Something more.
I can’t put my finger on it.
“What are you looking at? Pay attention, my sweet, or their will be consequences.”
“Yes, Kendrick,” I say obediently.
Kendrick isn’t into BDSM or anything sexual, but he very much enjoys the feeling of owning something. It’s sick and a form of abuse I’ll never get used to. He’ll always find a way to make me feel smaller, just like when he strapped the pink collar on me this morning, attached to a matching leash, and then there are the tags.
The silver heart is labeled, “My Sweet.”
My skin prickles from another wave of heat. Something familiar pulls in my stomach, telling me to look around. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.
“I’m going to try something,” Kendrick says. “I’m going to hand you the leash, but I want you to stay and wait for me. If you don’t, I’ll chase you, and the punishment will be severe; do you understand?”
“Yes, Kendrick.” I hold out my palm, and he lays the leash across it, kisses my forehead, and turns away to go to the next vendor.
I stay put, like the good little bitch I am.
While Kendrick speaks with the vendor, that burning sensation claws all over me again, and this time when I turn my head to the left, just in time to see the crowd part, I see him.
Sebastian.
My hand covers my mouth, and I want nothing more than to take a step in his direction, but my feet are frozen to the ground. I could make a run for it, but then what if Sebastian gets hurt? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Our eyes lock, and I can almost breathe in the way he makes me feel; it feels that good, that liberating, and that is how it is supposed to feel with someone you love. Love is supposed to be strong, wild, and a bit crazy. And that is what Sebastian makes me feel. He makes me feel all sorts of crazy.
His blue eyes are relieved, intense, happy, and furious all at the same time. He speaks to the guy next to him out of the corner of his mouth, and the man’s eyes land on mine, shock evident in his face.
Both take a step forward, but I glance at Kendrick pulling out his wallet, and I hold up my hand to stop them. Oh, I don’t want to stop them. It is the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my life.
Sebastian doesn’t listen. He takes another step, his long legs eating up the distance all too quick. God, he looks so good. His hair is wild, kind of slicked back, but a few pieces fall unruly over his forehead. Those blue eyes sear me, piercing me like a needle to my skin. The hard edge of his mouth tells me he is determined to get me out of here, damned the consequences.
It isn’t just me who is in danger—it’s him, his friend, the children getting popcorn next to me, the pregnant woman standing behind Kendrick, who has no idea he has a gun hidden under his shirt.
I shake my head at Sebastian and point with my index finger to the reason why I don’t want him coming any further. His eyes follow my finger, and his jaw flexes when he sees why he can’t come any closer. His friend, the guy with an angry expression on his face, nods as Sebastian speaks.
What are they planning?
Are they going to get me out of here? How? It’s too crowded. Kendrick won’t like it. He won’t allow me out of his sight. If this fails, the punishment I’ll receive will be very severe.
So severe, I’m afraid I won’t survive it.
In a blink of an eye, his friend is gone, and in the next blink, so is Sebastian.
I turn around, looking for him, wanting the safety I felt again even if it is just for a second. I want him back. It has been too long since I’ve seen him; maybe he is a figment of my imagination. That makes more sense.
Why would Sebastian be here after so many years? Out of all places?
Kendrick takes a step back and reaches out his hand to grab the leash without looking at me, and something zips by, blowing off four of his fingers, spraying blood all over my dress. He cries in agony, and his good hand grabs his wrist; the only digit he has left is his thumb. Blood pours down his arm, and I can see the bone peeking out from the flesh and muscle.
“My sweet, let’s go. It isn’t safe,” he says, tripping over his own two feet, but instead of listening to him, I rebel.
I unhook the collar from around my neck and toss it at him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Put that back on! I own you. I will always own you, and if you think for one minute you will ever be able to be free of me, you’re dead wrong. I will always find you, my sweet. You are mine until I say otherwise.” He takes a step forward and wraps the leash around my neck, choking me. “And I have something very special planned for you, so you aren’t going anywhere!” he roars.
The crowd around us is hysterical from the chaos surrounding us. A gunshot whistles through the air and pierces Kendrick in the chest, through and through, and punctures my bicep.