Taken | Emmi Butler

five

[a/n] slight swearing in this chapter, as well as some more intense moments. you've been warned. also, thanks for 1k!

 One Year Later

Emmi

"Shit!" I'm jolted awake by a string of curses. "Shit, shit, shit!"

I slowly sit up from my heap on the floor, carelessly blowing my hair from my face. I look to the man, who's rummaging through his black duffel bag.

"What are you looking at?" He spits, glaring at me.

"Nothing, sir," I assure him.

"Thought so," he mumbles. "Get dressed, we're going shopping."

A bit of happiness sparks in me, something that hasn't happened for at least three months. I haven't been anywhere but endless motels, under his constant supervision.

"Don't smile," he demands, and I instantly stop. "Go! Get ready!"

I rush off to the slum of a bathroom, taking a long look in the mirror. I look washed out. My hair is long and unruly, and my clothes are baggy from being worn so often. I notice a few freckles coming in, and my eyes are turning into a more hazel color.

I look different.

Older.

Mature.

I shake my head roughly, trying to comb through my hair with my fingers. It's not working well, but that's to be expected when I haven't brushed my hair in over a week.

"Hurry up!" He shouts from the hall, and I quickly splash some water on my face to rid it of the layer of grime.

I rush out the door and into the pick-up, buckling immediately.

"Ready, baby girl?" He asks.

Baby Girl?

I knot my eyebrows in confusion. He's never called me anything like that before. "Yeah..." I trail off, suddenly very concerned for my well-being.

"Good," he smiles. It's a strange smile, though. Eerie. "Put on that amazing smile, baby girl."

I feel something in my gut, like this'll end badly. It's masked by the amazing feeling of being praised, though, and it vanishes.

-

One Week Later

"Hold my hand, honey."

I grab his hand, smiling.

"That's a good girl," he praises, and I smile softly to myself.

The craving for praise has been met, and I couldn't feel happier.

"When we get back to the hotel, I have a surprise for you," he says in a sweet voice. "How does that sound?"

"Good?" I answer, looking up at him.

"Great," he smiles. "You'll have it."

I grin, the thought eating me alive. It's a blissful feeling, and I feel sort of content.

"On one condition," he tells me. We're climbing in the car.

"Yeah?" I ask, smiling.

"You should start calling me Daddy," he says simply, gently driving on to the open road.

I knot my eyebrows again, "But you're not my daddy...Are you?"

"What do you mean?" He asks, confused. "Of course I am."

"Oh," I blink. "Okay."

-

"So what's my surprise?" I ask, looking up at Daddy while holding his hand.

"You'll see," he grins, leading me inside. There's a beautiful white dress on the couch, and I instantly love it.

"That's for me?" I ask in awe, running my hands along the dress.

"Of course," he says. "Daddy would do anything for you."

Something inside me feels a little uncomfortable, but it doesn't phase me. "Thanks!"

"C'mon," he gestures me over. "We'll try it on."

"Okay!" I smile, taking the dress off the couch and towards him. He lifts my shirt over my head, and I shuffle my leggings down. I rest my hands on his shoulders, stepping in to the beautiful dress.

"You're so beautiful, Julia," he compliments.

Something's off, but I can't put my finger on it.

"Thanks, Daddy," I blush.

"There," he says once he zips the back, spinning me around. "My gorgeous girl."

I giggle, twirling in endless circles.

"C'mere, I'll do your hair," he says sweetly, and I oblige. I sit in front of him, and he combs his fingers through my hair. He puts it into a French braid, and I take a look in the bathroom mirror.

I look... beautiful.

And I like it.