Masters of the Shadowlands 7 - This is who I am by Sinclair Cherise

had been far more devastating than her powerlessness to protect herself. Holly had been so terrified, had pleaded with the Overseer to let her go home. She’d been sold and died under the lash instead.
    Linda blinked hard. “I’m busy. Please leave.” As customers turned to look, she set her face into an expressionless mask.
    Dwayne swept his gaze down her body. His voice dropped. “I gave it to you good, so why’d you dump me? Cuz you’d wanna be tied up when you’re fucked? Did you have a better time with them than with me?”
    Her stomach twisted. “Get out of my store!”
    “Did you—”
    Swallowing against the nausea, she yanked her cell phone out, punched two numbers, and turned it so he could see the display. Nine. One.
    He made an ugly sound and walked away, turning in the door to snarl, “Welcome back, slave .”
    You bastard . Her skin had turned cold and clammy, and as she filled the basket with the contents of the display window, her chest grew tighter and tighter, making it hard to breathe. Abandoning the pretense, she hurried toward the back of the store. As she passed, the two gray-haired customers looked at her as if they smelled week-old garbage.
    At the counter, Maribelle was oblivious as she bantered with two children.
    The back room was cool. Dark. It didn’t help. Oh God, oh God, oh God . The tears started. Then her stomach heaved, and she ran for the bathroom.
    Crying. Shaking. Throwing up.
    Finally she rested her face against the wall. Get up, Linda . Her body wouldn’t move. She watched a tiny spider in the corner. Working so hard on its web. The cleaning lady would probably destroy all its work.
    That made her cry again.

Chapter Four
    Sunday finally arrived. Linda had given herself the whole day off to enjoy. A day for bare feet, ripped jeans, and a Queen Latifah T-shirt. She hadn’t been ready to face church, so she and the children had rescheduled their traditional after-church dinner for the evening. In the meantime, she planned to ignore the outside world and just…settle.
    As she finished putting her lunch dishes into the dishwasher, she realized she was singing along with an old Carpenters’ song on the radio, “I Need To Be in Love.” She snorted. Wouldn’t that just be a disaster, considering everything that had happened to her? Added to her past, she also had her strange desires…
    Her jaw clenched. That horrible Dwayne. At least Lee had been polite, although the memory was still uncomfortable. Last fall after a couple of drinks, they’d gone to bed, and she’d asked for…more…trying to get him to bite, to spank. He’d been appalled.
    Her mouth turned down. The mortification she’d felt with him had been the spur that sent her to a BDSM club. Like beads on a necklace, each event had led to the next and the next, until here she was. Postkidnapped. Kind of a mess. Trying to be normal.
    She huffed a laugh, remembering the sting of Sam’s hand hitting her bottom. Not exactly normal. Well, at least she was alive to whine about all her weird problems. And she was home, at last.
    Sunlight streamed in through the big kitchen window, setting dust motes to dancing. Spirits lifting again, she sang the last line of the song into a pretend mic and finished with a quick spin before dropping the spatula into the rack. Yesterday at work had gone well. Her nightmares had decreased. She’d had a big bacon, tomato, and lettuce sandwich for lunch. Yummy . Slavery had taught her how important the tiny things in life were. A smile instead of a frown. Comfort foods rather than slop. Kind words. A warm hug could be more satisfying than the most intense orgasm—not that she’d gotten off recently.
    Not since the night of the auction with Sam. A flush heated her cheeks. Damn the man.
    Then again, maybe she should thank him. If it hadn’t been for that night, she’d think nothing would ever arouse her again.
    She shook her head. Somehow he’d simply overwhelmed her until all she’d