𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

17. REPRESSED

There are not a lot of things that can get under my skin anymore. I mean, for fuck's sake, when someone grows up like I did not much else in life can really surprise you. People are shitty. People do shitty things. That's an inevitability whether people care to admit that or not. But there were also good things and good people. For every shit action there was a good one, that's just how karma works.

Wherever there was dark you could shine a light to find your way through it. Even in the thick of the worst of the things in my life I was able to see the good. There was always something to pull me up out of the drowning sea. Whether that thing was Luke, Denver, the sun rising over the city, or the feel of the snow in winter, all the bad had some good tied to it.

Yes, my childhood wasn't ideal, it was actually pretty fucked up but because of my mother's lifestyle I had found Luke. He'd snuck backstage and found me. So even though it was just my sister and I around a lot of awkward and bad, there was one amazing thing that came out of it.

Even my mother going down the fucking horrid path she'd gone down had led me to my "dream job". As completely fucked as it sounds being the one to play god, killing people I knew were bad was something I got off on. Those people, some of the same people who'd made my mother who she is, their lives had been in my hands.

I was no longer a sex-object on a stage with good aim and a twin sister. No, I was a paid hitman. I was an assassin and I reveled in it. The sadist in me had been born in that job, with that man. The thrill and excitement of sneaking into places no one should be able to sneak into, being stealthier than most men with an aim that was impeccable made me feel important.

Scott Marling made me feel important. I was his Little Love. His strong but submissive good little girl is what I had been. I did everything he said. I did everything he wanted me to do. I gave him everything. Everything.

After my first job, where I'd taken out an impossible number of men and came back with hardly a scratch on me, his cold eyes had lit on fire. His hair was so icy blonde it gave off the feeling of inexplicable cold, as did his eyes. His eyes were like two cold glaciers that pierced right into my very soul. He'd looked like a god but inside of him was a devil.

Who am I kidding? Scott Marling is the devil. He is the purest definition of the word demonic and I had fallen for him irrevocably. I had been head over heals for Satan himself.

Scott had the world at his fingertips. He had men who would do every single thing he said but I was special to him. He made me feel different, unique. I cringe at the thought as I remember just how special he'd left me feeling at the end. Especially wounded. Especially tainted. Especially broken. Because I was special to him.

I was Daddy's Little Love. To most that would sound extremely awkward but to me, a girl who'd never known her father, a girl who longed for a grown man to fill that void, I'd became exactly what he wanted me to be. I was his beautiful submissive little pet, his little assassin, his little killer, his Little Love.

Luke was my world outside of what I'd do for Mr. Marling. Luke was my normalcy from all the destruction and violence. I didn't necessarily feel bad working for Scott because the activities I was involved with weren't affiliated with that kind of business. Drug deals, arms transactions, that's what I was there for. I was Daddy's Little Love, Daddy's protector, and protect him I did, vehemently.

I sat faithfully by his side in his twisted little kingdom built on illegal activities, deceit, and death. A kingdom he sat on the throne of and I had sat right by his side. I was the princess of death while he was the king of it. None of the other men were even allowed to talk to me. If they'd chance a glance at me Scott would apply the backside of his hand to their face. I was his. I belonged to him.