From Chains

Chapter 2: Hunger

She nods.

I glare at her, waiting for a real answer.

"Yes, Master. Sorry, Master." She hurries to pick up a box.

I pick up one of the larger boxes and carry it out the truck.

She copies me with hers.

She places her box right against the one I dropped off.

We keep unloading boxes, neither of us saying a word - as I prefer it.

After around three hours, I've unloaded all the boxes which I think will be too heavy for her.

There are few enough left that she should be done by tonight. "Pipsqueak, listen up."

She puts her box on the floor and hurries to me.

"I'm heading off for a while. Finish unloading the boxes while I'm gone."

"Yes, Master."

I take a walk down the road and stop at a cafe. I can track the girl's location on my phone. If she runs off, I'll be the first to know.

I sit down and order a coffee. I guess I have the next couple hours to myself. I open an online chess app and begin playing.

I've missed this. I haven't had the time to play a full game in months. I can't help but smile. This is definitely something I could get used to.

* * * * * * * *

It's evening, and I've lost count of how many games I've played. It's been a couple hours, and I suspect the girl's almost done. I head back to the warehouse.

I open the door. She's not by my truck.

I take a peek at the truck's cargo hold. She's not in here, and there're a few more boxes left than I was hoping.

She must be in the other building. I head to the door.

I spot her in the alley near a dumpster. What the hell is she doing down there? She better have a good explanation for this.

I walk towards her.

She notices me, and she looks terrified. There's something in her mouth.

"Spit it out," I growl.

She lets whatever she was chewing fall into her hand. It's a bunch of orange peels. Did she fish them from the dumpster? Is she that hungry?

"I'm sorry, Master." She bends her legs, making herself smaller. "I-I thought that that it would be okay if I took it be-because I thought, I thought no-one wanted it anymore. I'm sorry, Master."

She brings up her arms to shield her chest.

"Listen," I begin. She flinches at my voice. "I don't want to find you digging in the trash for food. If you're hungry, tell me."

Her eyes fall to her feet.

"Got it?"

"Yes, Master," she says barely above a whisper.

"Come with me."

I head back to the cafe, and she follows a few feet behind.

I pick out a table and take my seat.

She just stands there, holding her hands together. She's waiting for permission.

"You can sit," I sigh. I'm not up for this level of micromanagement.

She takes her seat opposite me and smothers a cough.

My eyes scan the dinner menu, but I don't know why I bother. I don't have a house to cook meals in, so I know these menus like the back of my hand. Even if I could afford a home, it wouldn't make sense. I'm smuggling goods to a different city every week.