Strike ( Book 4: Stronger Series )

24. Whiplash

He was pissed about something. I didn't know what it was or why he was taking it out on me, but it was really starting to worry me. My pussy was still in shambles after last night, and then he randomly chooses to fuck me all over again just a few hours ago as if I weren't raw and sore enough. Which, in turn, pissed me off too.

What the fuck had I done now? He was usually pretty quick to tell me if I fucked up, but this time felt different. I wanted to know so I could do something about it, but he likely wouldn't tell me anyway. How the fuck was I supposed to be the "Queen" of a criminal empire if I didn't know shit about what was going on? They say ignorance is bliss, but in my case, ignorance could get you killed...unless you were Darren apparently.

I was currently sitting on his private plane, looking out the little window at the ocean below, wondering where in the fuck we were going. Again. Just once, I'd like to know where we were going before we left. But no, Darren insists on keeping everything a fucking surprise. As if I didn't have enough of those horror stories. The only thing I did get to know was how long the flight would be. Twelve. Fucking. Hours.

Why? Why? Why? Fucking why?????

We already had to make a quick stop in Maine to fuel up the jet, so we were already halfway there, but what the actual fuck was twelve hours away that we absolutely had to honeymoon at? It sure as fuck had better not be Russia. I'd be the most pissed off newlywed in history. No fucking way did I want to spend my honeymoon freezing my ass off all day. No thanks. I would have been totally fine with staying in California or even Arkansas, for fuck's sake. But no, Darren decided where we went, when we went, and for how long.

You'd think I'd be over it by now. You'd think I'd have stopped caring and just gone with the flow, happy to be where he wants me and however he wants me. But I somehow got it in my head that being married to Darren would allow me greater privilege, or at least the privilege of the knowledge of my destinations, but apparently, I was an idiot for thinking that. I was always an idiot when hoping for change.

Looking down at my new wedding band that rested snuggly against my engagement ring, there was once again no denying the resemblance of the ring to the cuffs that still adorned my wrists, ankles, and throat. I had briefly hoped that because we were married now I would no longer have to wear them since I thought they were just a symbol of Darren's ownership of me. Did that mean I was no longer his slave, or was I just now his slave-wife?

He told me I could be a queen, but he had no fucking idea how difficult it was to step into new territory when you'd been conditioned for over a year to just do what you're told and anticipate his needs. I didn't know where the line was anymore, and the memories lingering in the darkness of my mind warned me against finding out. Better to just play it safe than risk certain self-destruction.

But at the same time, I also wanted to push. The rebel in me that I was certain Darren had brutally murdered long ago was suddenly resurfacing at the idea of my possible evolution. I wasn't sure if I could stop it because the idea of stomping it out felt like a wasted opportunity I'd suddenly been given. I wanted to see what mountain I could climb next, just to see how far I could climb. I'd already conquered the little one below me. I wanted to see what else I could do and what I could become.

Everyone at the wedding saw what I was capable of. They saw that I wasn't some meek little sex toy Darren just wanted to play with. I was something more, something that demanded respect and recognition, and I'll be damned if I didn't get that.

Darren was brooding over his laptop next to me, an ever-present frown on his face, while Camaro sat at my feet. I gave up trying to focus on the book I was reading, human anatomy no longer holding my attention, and yawned from boredom and annoyance. I stood and stretched, my spine cracking as I twisted while a breath of relief escaped my lungs.