Pennies (Dollar, #1)

by Pepper Winters

Yes, I looked broken. Yes, I obeyed implicitly. But inside, I’d somehow glued the parts they’d shattered into something I treasured. I was stronger now than when I’d first arrived. I was no longer the wailing girl who’d been stripped, rough-washed with angry paws, and catalogued with other women. I kept my screams inside because there, no one could hear me.

Silence was a weapon I could wield better than panic. And if it meant I never uttered another word until I found freedom, then so be it.

I wouldn’t let these assholes see my horror. If they refused to let us see them, I refused to let them see me. I didn’t have feathers or diamantes to hide my true self, but I did have willpower.

I had no one to rely on anymore. No one to tell me what to do and how to act. It was entirely on me. Whatever pain or mistreatment may or may not be in my future, I had to hold my own hand, wipe away my tears, and find comfort in my arms no matter how bloody.

When does living become the wrong choice and death the right one? When does taking your own life become wiser than letting someone else destroy it?

Now, I bowed because it made him believe I respected him, all while my heart sharpened the daggers I wanted to plunge. I kneeled because it gave him power, and when he had power, he didn’t assert it as often.

However, being smart and subservient came with a price. My actions of survival made me live and breathe the existence of a slave, and occasionally, just occasionally, my constant fear and unhappiness won.

I was two seconds from tearing off the offending items when I saw Master A’s guest for the first time. My first thought was…run. His eyes matched those of the men surrounding him. The eyes of a killer, pain-deliverer, and user. But my second thought was…run to him.

Once someone enticed thoughts of suicide into their soul, it was there to stay, slowly corrupting them until they found their way back to life or gave in and let demise claim them.

“Sometimes, it isn’t what’s spoken that is the loudest reply, Mr. Åsbjörn,” Mr. Prest muttered. “And I’ve just learned all I needed without your slave uttering a single syllable.”

‘Listen with your entire body, not just your ears. Watch with your entire being, not just your eyes. And judge with your entire soul, not just shallow perception.’

I lied. The murmurs of taking my own life hid in the panic attacks that lay waiting to pounce when my strength wavered. I was no longer completely whole—parts of me had become an enemy, wanting me to die rather than survive.

Something was to be said about cruelty. Give nothing but barbarity and that was all that was expected. Give tenderness mixed with persecution and the fall from hope hurt far, far worse.

But then my mind wandered to the quiet bruised mouse in the corner. Her silence tugged me, forcing my attention to wander back to her every time I yanked it away.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do. I’m sorry for what I am. You’re worth pennies, but I’ll make you worth fucking millions. However, what I expect in return will be unpayable.”