Page 8

Chyanne

Damn it all to hell, Chyanne thought as she faced off against Goliath.Damn me for applying for that stupid job, for getting on that fucking bus, and coming to this godforsaken ranch!But most of all, damn that useless piece of shit phone! If it hadn’t died, none of this would be happening!She could feel the dead hunk of metal practically burning a hole in her back pocket.

As she saw his jaw clench and his hands ball into fists at his sides, she knew she had about a second to take it back. To say she was sorry.

Except she wasn’t. She wasn’t sorry, and nothing would change that.

He moved toward her, slowly, but with such a large stride that he’d almost reached her before she began to back away.

He’s big, but I’m fast. And she was. She’d made a career out of being fast. A very high-powered one, before she’d ruined everything.

I needed this job, this chance… but fuck it. I’m not gonna hang around and be a pincushion for Goliath.

Chyanne backpedaled for all she was worth. She was picking up momentum and distance between them—enough to where she thought she’d be able to turn and make a true run for it—when her foot caught on a branch and she began to fall.

Quicker than anything she’d ever seen, Goliath’s arm whipped out and he grabbed hold of her wrist. He pulled her up until she was steady on her feet once more. Then they were chest to chest, and she had to tip her head back to stare up at him.

“Um… thanks,” she muttered, puzzled by his action. Why would a man who abused women care if she fell or not?

His lips curved. “So, youdohave manners. Good to know.” Then he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like she was a bag of flour.

Before she could even process what was happening, she heard a sound like thunder. Then she felt a smack explode against the seat of her jeans.

“Wait! What—”

Her protest was cut off by another loud smack.

She was wriggling against him, trying to escape even before she felt the stingy, prickling sensation his hand had caused. “Stop it!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

But he and his mammoth hand paid her no attention. Instead, she got another equally stingy spank to the back of her jeans.

“Stop!” she demanded, twisting for all she was worth and trying to earn her freedom. “Let mego!”

“Not a chance, spitfire,” he chuckled.

“My name isn’t—” But her furious protest was once more cut off by several sharp spanks.

The pain was building. Chyanne had never felt anything like it before. This prickling, angry heat. One more smack, and she’d… she’d…

“I’m sorry!” she shrieked, surprising even herself after his hammer-like hand had punished her once more.

Instantly, she was set down on her feet. Then he was kneeling—taller than her by half a foot even with his knees on the ground.

His hands were holding hers and his blue eyes gazed into hers as he asked, “Are you really?”

It was the look in those eyes—serious eyes for a man so huge—that made her own fill with tears. Again, she surprised herself, and though she tried to blink them back, they came anyway.

Goliath reached up with a giant paw and wiped away her tear. “Are you really sorry?” he asked again.

“Y-yes,” she admitted, biting down on her traitorous, trembling lip.

“We’ll see.”

Her eyes widened. “Wh-what does that mean?”

“I want you to prove it.”

She considered this. Consideredhim. She had known him for all of five minutes, and he’d spanked her. Then, at the first sight of contrition, he’d knelt at her feet.This is a strange, strange place. In more ways than one.