It'd taken her some three hours to get there, but she'd finally made it. The city began to rise, though not in a pretty way. Cracked asphalt and choppy sidewalks stretched the roads, and the buildings were shoddy at best. The gas stations had bars on their windows, and the houses had overgrown lawns and rotting wood exteriors.

The people that passed by her gave her certain looks. Some were kind, but they were few and far between. More often than not, they were suspicious, or even hungry, and made her want to curl up and hide somewhere. She walked with her head down, trying to avoid prying eyes as she searched for some sort of tool shop or metal worker. They would likely be farther into the city, and not in this sketchy neighborhood. But to get there, she had to go through here. And that was becoming more and more difficult.

She wished she could go back. She missed her bed. She missed the food, she even missed her chores. She missed the garden, she missed Cobb. She missed her Mistress. But there was no turning back now. Not unless she wanted to be beaten within inches of her life. She had to move forward. There was only forward.

So she walked along the rotted streets and downtrodden neighborhood, avoiding glances and looks, simply trying to get to the city proper. She could see the full skyline just up ahead. Maybe an hour's walk, maybe two. She headed for it, muscles aching. She wanted to sit. To rest. Her feet were on fire and her eyes burned. But she couldn't stop, not now, not here.

Just then, a cop car rolled around a corner where a gas station sat. Her heart beat so hard it almost burst through her chest. She glanced around, left, right, and found an alleyway that ran behind the gas station. Hurriedly, she darted into it, praying that the cop would ignore her, leave her be. She checked behind her; there was nothing.

The alley was dank and smelled of garbage. Wet trash sat in a gutter to the side, and a dumpster sat all the way at the end of it. It was a dead end. If the cop decided to follow her, she'd have no place to go if she couldn't get over that dumpster. She hurried toward it, listening pointedly.

Then, she heard a crunch behind her. She paused, frozen by fear, her heart thumping so hard she thought it might explode. Adrenaline panged through her gut like icy daggers, and every inch of her being told her to run, to flee. But she couldn't. Just like all the other times, she found herself stuck. Frozen.

Slowly, she turned around, scared so badly that tears started to form in her eyes. Her vision grew blurry as one trickled down her cheek, so she couldn't see the figure walking toward her. Something about him was menacing. The way he hunched, the way he walked with a gait. He had her cornered, would get her, beat her, take her back to her Mistress so that she could be beaten again. It was always the same. Always.

"P-Please," she stuttered. "Please leave me alone."

The figure stopped, and she rubbed her eyes with a sniffle. When her vision cleared, she could see that it was the cop, dressed in a blue uniform. He looked dirty, grimy even, and clearly had malintent in his eyes. His hair was neatly combed, but it was the only neat thing about him. His tie was tied in a messy knot, his uniform was half untucked. He looked like he was getting off of a long shift.

She shuddered. There was malice in his grin like smile. She could feel it. She backed away slowly, and he took a step toward her.

"What's a slave doing out here by herself?" he asked, grinning, as he took another step toward her. "Where's your Owner?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

She looked around, back at the dumpster, to the walls of the alleyway. "What I'm doing is none of your business," she snapped.

"Oh, no, that's where you're wrong, cutie," he said, taking yet another step toward her. He was gaining ground, and she was losing it fast. "It's my business."

He looked her up and down, almost hungrily. "That's a pretty ring you've got on."

She gasped, and clenched her fist, feeling the ring on her finger. "What do you want?"

"I want that ring, or I want you," he said, shrugging. "Either or. Give me the ring, and I'll help you get that collar off. I know what you're up to, girl. I can help you. Or you can go straight to the Auction House. Your choice."

Kat paused, swallowing dryly. It was tempting, she had to admit. To be free of the collar and be one more step closer to true freedom. But to give up the ring? To let go of the one thing she had left to remind her of the one person who'd shown her kindness, even when she didn't deserve it? The last thing she had from her Mistress? No. No, she couldn't. Something inside of her wouldn't let her. Couldn't let her.

She thumbed at the ring nervously, as he took a step closer, and said, "N-No. No thank you. Now please leave."

"That's not how this works," the cop said. She backed up further, until she could feel the cold steel of the dumpster against her back. "I'm leaving with that ring, or I'm leaving with you. You don't get much of a say here, missy." He spat on the ground. "Give it here, and I'll help you."

He held out his hand, inches away from her. She shivered. Her gut churned, she wanted to vomit, and her knees shook like she'd just been struck with lightning. For a moment, she could see it all again. Her Master looming over her, slowly walking toward her, hand balled in a fist, ready. Again. Her back to the wall of the basement. The trickle of urine running down her leg. She felt tears well in her eyes.

It was all so real. She could see it. She could see it.

She screamed a helpless little scream, crying, begging. "Please, please stop," she cried. "No more! Please!"

The cop stopped and watched her for a moment as she pleaded. He cocked his head and gave her a strange look, saying, "Just give me the ring, and this nasty business will be done."

"Stop! Stop!" she cried, tears streaming down her face and mixing with snot. "Stop, please... please..."

He took one last step toward her, just a foot away now, and was about to speak, when suddenly, he dropped with a wet smack. Something had sent him down, spiraling to the ground, and when he hit the dirty floor, it was clear he was out cold. Kat watched, horrified, eyes blurry from the tears. She couldn't tell who she was looking at, but he was tall and menacing and towered over her. Another cop, she thought, maybe his partner? Thoughts swam in her head. It was all too much.

She felt her knees buckle as she dropped to them, slouching, sobbing violently. The man stood over her, watching her for a moment, before someone rushed up from behind him and knelt beside her. The man bent over and dragged the creep away by his leg, while a woman slowly took Kat into her arms. Kat shook and shivered and sobbed, unable to see any of it.

And that was when she spoke. "Shh, shh, it's alright. It's okay. I've got you."

Mistress Alexa. Kat screamed again, shaking, trying to push her off, but she was too weak. A lack of food and water, the crying, the fear, it was all too much. She felt faint. Gasping for air between sobs, she eventually gave up, going limp as Mistress Alexa held her. She cried. And cried.

"Kat, shh, it's alright," her Mistress said. "I've got you. I promise, I've got you."

Mistress Alexa held her tightly gently pushing Kat's head into her shoulder. "Shh, it's alright, it's okay," she whispered as Kat cried. Then, looking over he shoulder to Cobb, she said, "Did you kill him?"

Cobb looked at her as he dusted his hands off. He'd dumped the man into a ditch on the side of the alleyway, where he lay splayed out. "No Madam."

"Damn. Oh well," she said, turning back to Kat. For a moment, she pet Kat softly, cooing to her, whispering gentle things into her ear. Then, she said, "C'mon Kat, let's get you home. C'mon, shh, shh, it's alright. We're going home."

She slowly helped Kat stand, but Kat's legs were too weak. So, she turned to Cobb and said, "Cobb, some assistance?"

"Right away Madam."

He walked over and took Kat's arm over his shoulder, and the two of them helped her to her feet. "There you go," Mistress Alexa whispered. "There you go. C'mon."

"We're going home."