Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
A ndrea
Mrs. Tompkins smiled, a knowing glint in her eye. “Are you sure about that, Andrea?” she asked softly. “Are you really sure you know who you are?”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Did I know? The certainty I’d always clung to suddenly felt fragile, like a soap bubble ready to burst at the slightest touch.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out for a full five seconds. My throat suddenly felt like the Sahara. The room seemed to spin around me, the walls closing in. Mrs. Tompkins’s penetrating gaze bore into me, waiting for an answer I couldn’t give.
“I… I think I’ve made a mistake,” I finally managed to get out, in something between a gasp and a croak. “I should go. I’ll just leave now.”
I started to rise from my chair, my legs shaky beneath me. But Mrs. Tompkins’s next words froze me in place.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Andrea,” she said, her tone eerily calm. “Selecta has already assumed guardianship over you, in accordance with our powers under the corporate laws.”
The air left my lungs in a rush, as if I’d been punched in the gut. Guardianship? What did that even mean?
Mrs. Tompkins must have seen the panic in my eyes, because her lips curved into a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring but only sent chills down my spine.
“Now, now,” she said. “There’s no need to worry. We have your best interests at heart.”
She gestured toward the door of the office, and for the first time, I noticed the man standing there. He was tall and beefy, dressed in a crisp security uniform. A holstered gun hung at his hip.
“That’s Officer Porter,” Mrs. Tompkins explained. “He’s here to ensure your safety and compliance.”
My eyes widened as I took in the guard’s imposing figure. Earlier, when I’d first entered the building, I’d barely registered his presence. In fact, I’d felt a flicker of relief at the sight of him, assuming he was there to protect us from the rising crime rates that everyone said plagued the city.
Now, though, that sense of security evaporated like morning dew in the harsh light of day. Officer Porter wasn’t here to protect me. He was here to contain me.
I felt my breath coming faster, my chest rising and falling rapidly as panic set in. The room seemed to shrink around me, the walls pressing in. The faint scent of lemon cleaner that had seemed so innocuous before now felt cloying, suffocating.
“You can’t do this,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “It’s… it’s illegal. I have rights.”
Mrs. Tompkins let out a soft chuckle, the sound grating against my frayed nerves. “Oh, Andrea,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m afraid you signed those rights away when you agreed to our terms and conditions.”
My mind raced, trying to remember the mountain of legalese I’d scrolled through without reading. Had I really agreed to this? To be shipped off to some backwards town, to live a life I’d never wanted?
I looked from Mrs. Tompkins to Officer Porter and back again, feeling like a trapped animal.
My legs felt like lead as I followed Mrs. Tompkins out of her office and down the hallway. The sterile white walls felt ever more confining with each step. At the end of the hallway, Mrs. Tompkins gestured to a small waiting area tucked into an alcove. “You can wait here until your bus arrives,” she said, her tone brisk and efficient. “There are refreshments available if you’d like.”
I nodded mutely, sinking into one of the simple plastic chairs. A coffee table in front of me held a tray of pastries. I saw a coffee machine in a nook nearby. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, incongruously comforting.
As Mrs. Tompkins’s receded down the hallway, I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My mind raced, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. How had a simple job search led to this?
I poured myself a cup of coffee with trembling hands, more for something to do than out of any real desire for caffeine. The warmth of the mug was grounding at least, giving me something tangible to focus on as my thoughts spiraled.
What would happen to me in Cato? The name itself sounded oppressive, conjuring images of stern-faced men and subservient women. Would I really be expected to be nothing more than a housemaid, a homemaker? The thought made my skin crawl.
And yet… a traitorous part of my mind whispered that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. To have a clear purpose, to know exactly what was expected of me. No more endless job searches, no more feeling lost and alone in the vast, uncaring city.
I shook my head violently, trying to dislodge those dangerous thoughts. This wasn’t me. I was Andrea Jacobsen, feminist, independent woman. I didn’t need a man to take care of me. I didn’t want to be subservient.
Did I?
The coffee turned bitter in my mouth as doubt gnawed at me. I set the mug down, my stomach churning. I had to get out of here. I had to think, if only just to clear my head.
I glanced around the waiting area, my heart racing. The receptionist was engrossed in her computer screen, fingers flying across the keyboard. Officer Porter stood at attention by the main entrance, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Mrs. Tompkins was nowhere to be seen.
This was my chance.
I set my coffee mug down with exaggerated care, wincing at the soft clink as it met the table. Neither the receptionist nor Porter reacted. Slowly, I rose from my chair, willing it not to squeak. My legs felt like jelly beneath me, threatening to give way with each step.
The distance to the door seemed to stretch endlessly before me. My breath came in short, shallow gasps as I willed myself to move naturally, to not draw attention. The scent of the cleaning agent grew stronger as I neared the exit, mixing with the acrid tang of my own fear-sweat.
Just a few more steps. Freedom was so close I could almost taste it.
My fingers had barely brushed the cool metal of the door handle when Officer Porter’s gruff voice cut through the air like a knife.
“Miss, I’m sorry, but you’re not allowed to leave until your bus comes.”
I froze, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he must be able to hear it. Slowly, I turned to face him, plastering what I hoped was a convincing smile on my face.
“Oh, there must be some mistake,” I said, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts. “Mrs. Tompkins specifically told me to go to the drugstore to get maxi pads.”
Porter’s brow furrowed, confusion evident in his eyes, along with at least a little of the discomfort with feminine hygiene I had hoped to instill in the beefy man. A bead of sweat trickled down my spine as I held his gaze, silently willing him to believe me.
After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again. “Stay here while I check with Mrs. Tompkins,” he said, his tone gruff but uncertain.
As soon as his back was turned, I acted. With a surge of adrenaline, I yanked the door open and bolted outside. The sudden brightness of the afternoon sun momentarily blinded me, but I didn’t stop. I blinked rapidly, desperate to clear my vision as I stumbled forward. The rough concrete of the sidewalk scraped against my palms as I caught myself from falling. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the sounds of traffic and pedestrians.
Freedom. I could taste it on my tongue, mingling with a bitter note of fear and adrenaline. Just a few more steps and I’d be lost in the crowd, able to disappear into the anonymity of the city. I’d go home, pack a bag, and?—
A vise-like grip closed around my upper arm, yanking me to a halt. I let out a startled yelp as I was spun around, coming face-to-face with another security guard. This one was shorter than Porter but just as muscular, his dark eyes glinting with barely contained anger.
“And where do you think you’re going, missy?” he growled, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh.
I opened my mouth to protest, to lie, to do anything that might loosen his grip. But before I could utter a word, he was already dragging me back toward the Selecta office. The glass door swung open with a soft whoosh as Officer Porter held it for his colleague to march me in, the air conditioning hitting me like a slap in the face after the warmth of the sun.
Porter wore an expression that mingled disappointment with resignation. Without a word, he took my other arm and began to march me down the hallway as his colleague returned to his post.
We reached Mrs. Tompkins’ office far too quickly. She looked up as we entered, her thin lips curved into a smile that sent chills down my spine. “Ah, Andrea,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I see you decided to take an unscheduled field trip.”
Officer Porter released my arm, leaving me standing before Mrs. Tompkins’ desk. I rubbed my biceps, wincing at the tender spots where his fingers had dug in. “I… I just needed some air,” I mumbled, unable to meet her condescending gaze.
Mrs. Tompkins tsked softly, shaking her head. “Oh, my dear,” she said, her tone patronizing. “I’m afraid we can’t have that sort of behavior. We need to make sure you start your new life on the right foot.”
She turned to Porter, her expression hardening. “Take her back to the waiting area,” she instructed. “And this time, make sure she stays put.”
Porter’s hand closed around my upper arm once more, gentler this time but no less insistent. As he began to lead me away, Mrs. Tompkins’ voice stopped us.
“Oh, and Andrea?” I turned back, dread pooling in my stomach at the glint in her eye. “When you get to Cato, I’m afraid you’ll have to be taught a lesson. We can’t have this kind of disobedience going unchecked.”
My breath caught in my throat. A lesson? What did that mean?
Mrs. Tompkins must have seen the panic in my eyes, because her lips curved into what might have been meant as a reassuring smile. “Don’t feel too bad, dear. You would have undoubtedly earned a lesson soon enough anyway. Best to start as you mean to go on.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. A thousand questions raced through my mind, but I couldn’t voice any of them. My legs felt like lead as Porter gently but firmly guided me back to the waiting area.
This time, he didn’t leave me alone. Instead, he produced a pair of handcuffs from his belt. With practiced efficiency, he secured one end to my wrist and the other to the arm of the chair. The metal was cold against my skin, a stark reminder of my newfound captivity.
As Porter stepped back, I found my voice at last. It came out as barely more than a whisper. “What… what kind of lesson?”
Porter’s expression softened slightly, a flicker of something that might have been pity crossing his face. “It’ll be the bare-bottom kind, miss,” he said gruffly. “Best not to dwell on it. Just remember, it’s for your own good.”
With that, he turned and resumed his post by the door, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts and the cold bite of metal around my wrist. The reality of my situation began to sink in. There would be no escape, no last-minute reprieve. In just a few short hours, I would be on a bus to Cato, to a new life I had never wanted.
The idea of being bent over, my bottom bared for punishment… my forehead creased so hard it hurt as I felt a helpless thrill of wayward arousal between my thighs. I shifted in my seat, my face burning with shame at my body’s betrayal.
This isn’t me . It can’t be me .