He sighs and grips the steering wheel with both hands. “You will call me ‘Master’ when we are alone, or when I specify it is allowed in front of certain people. In public—if we ever go out in public—you will address me as ‘Sir.’”
“Yes… Master.” It tastes so bitter on my tongue. Like the bile I keep swallowing back down.
When I breathe in, I feel my chest rattle. s**t. I think I’m actually going to cry, and I don’t know if I can stop myself.
“Better.” He turns us off The Strip and drives down a darker side road. If anything were to happen to me here, no one would know. “You will speak only when spoken to, and only if I give you permission. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut. You will do exactly as I say the first time I give the order. If I have to repeat myself, it will be the last time I
