Page 43 of Ghost Hunted

“Not the time to daydream,” says Quill. “Let’s go!”

Swallowing my nerves, I lift my leg over the bike, trying not to bump into Logan’s sprawled-over form. The seat is so high up that I barely reach the ground when I’m sitting on it. I rev up the engine, and it wobbles dangerously to one side.

“Careful, now,” warns Quill. “Try not to skin his other side.”

Fuck. Beads of sweat prick at the sides of my temples, but Quill honks at me, and I press on the gas handle in confusion. Before I know it, I’m jerking down the road.

“Not so fast!” he yells. “Look out!”

But suddenly, I want to go fast. I hold down the handle so hard my skin hurts. I’ve never gone so fast before. I’ve never felt so free.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt free at all.

_

“Are you going to listen now, sweetie?”

“Yes… papa.”

The sound of leather sliding through loops makes me heave out a sigh of relief. The punishment is over.

He went really hard this time. I don’t think there’s an inch of skin on my back that doesn’t hurt. I can tell some of the red stripes have broken, too. I’m probably going to need to stay in bed for a while after this.

But he’s leaving soon. I know he’s leaving, because from the corner of my eye, I see him prepare the syringe.

He always leaves after the injection.

“I wish… I wish you wouldn’t hit her so hard.” My mother’s tremulous voice reaches me.

“She needs to get those silly desires beaten straight out of her. Freedom. What does that even mean? Don’t I bring you whatever you want? Clothes, makeup, books. Everything you want, you get. What more could you possibly need?”

I don’t answer. My back hurts far too much, and the last thing I want is another session with that belt. And I know he has it in him to give it to me, too.

“She just wants to go out a bit,” pleads my mother.

“Well, I let her go to town, don’t I? At least I did. Not anymore. She’s lost that privilege now.”

“Papa…” I can’t keep the word from my mouth as I realize I’ve lost the tiny speck of freedom I’d gained.

I bite my lip when he turns around, then exhale when I see he’s holding the syringe. He’s planning to give it to me now—that means he won’t beat me. He never beats me after the injection.

“It’s your fault,” he tells me. “You lost your freedom, and you have only yourself to blame.”

_

“You’re going too fast, mama!” I hear Piper cry, and, returning to my senses, I slow down just a bit. But not enough that I lose that rush, that sense of pure freedom.

“I have no idea where to go,” I laugh, turning to Quill and Piper. “I have no fucking idea where to go. Should we just… drive? Does it matter?”

“Keep going,” says Quill. “We’re going in the right direction—south,” he adds.

I turn back around, focusing on the road. For the first time, I realize, I see what’s beyond those hills.

Steep, lush cliffs break the sky, and the sun ripples over the turquoise waves far below. There are barely any houses around. Just occasional shacks here and there, and green, rolling hills as far as the eye can see. I guess I should be nervous about those bikers, but all I can think of is that I’m free… finally free.

When Logan gets better, I know I won’t be free anymore. I’ll give my freedom over to him.

The thought fills me with sudden anguish.