Read Silent Daughter 1: Taken for Free Online

tilting her head to the side. "No one ever comes here."
    "I can see why," I mumble, stroking along my ruined suit.
    She ignores it.
    "What are you doing here?" she asks.
    I clear my throat and place my hands in my pants' pockets as I slowly approach her. I notice that she wants to create distance between us. She tenses up more and more with every step I take towards her.
    But she withstands the urge to retreat and lets me get so close to her that our bodies almost touch, looking up at me the with blue-green eyes, pursuing their ever-present dance of changing colors.
    "Can't a man just take a walk as he pleases?" I retort, looking down at her.
    The smile on her face is long gone and has been replaced with that same unreadable expression she displayed most of the day.
    Then, she slowly shakes her head.
    "Why did you follow me?" she asks, her voice so soft, it almost gets suffocated by the leaves rustling in the autumn wind.
    "Did you not want me to?" I retort.
    "Do you answer every question with another question?"
    She sounds annoyed, but it doesn't show on her face. There is no emotion I could assign to the look she is giving me.
    "My questions are usually more interesting than the answers I could give to yours," I say.
    She snorts.
    "Good comeback."
    To my surprise, she suddenly turns around and walks away, following the path that leads into the forest ahead.
    I catch up to her and walk next to her. I hate being the one who follows, and she better learn this sooner rather than later.
    "No point in walking away," I comment. "You won't get rid of me that easily if that is what you're trying to do."
    "I'm not," she says without looking at me.
    She turns her head, looking up at me, her face now in the shadows of the trees above us. In this light, her eyes are of a deep green. It almost makes me wonder how I could have ever mistaken them for blue.
    "All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking," she whispers.
    I frown at her. "Wise words, but wha t — "
    "They're not mine," she interrupts me, averting her eyes to stare ahead. "Friedrich Nietzsche. A German philosopher."
    "Quite the poet," I remark.
    She nods. "Yes, he was a poet, too."
    "What an eloquent fit, Elizabeth Barrington," I say. "For you to like European philosophers."
    "Liz," she corrects me, looking up at me with furled eyebrows. "Please call me Liz."
    "No one else does," I assert.
    "Not in my family, no," she admits. "But it's what I prefer to be called. I don't like my actual name."
    "Alright, Liz then," he says. “I'm Leonard.”
    She nods politely.
    "And no, I don't like European philosophers," she corrects me again. "Just him."
    I grind my teeth. I don't like how she's the one handling me, correcting and lecturing me with that stern, cold attitude of hers. It is driving me insane.
    This girl has no idea how much trouble she is in.
    We are walking deeper into the forest, further away from anybody else. The path is narrow and forces us to walk closely next to each other. So close, that her arm randomly touches mine every so often.
    It takes all my strength to pull myself together and not grab her to get a taste of her. Just her lips, those rosy, delicate lips that let so little words escape.
    But I know I couldn't stop there. I would need to take her, all of her.
    I cannot risk it. Not here, not now.
    "Is this still part of your family's estate?" I randomly ask, mostly to get my mind from running wild.
    She nods. "Yes. It's part of our garden, but a part that no one ever visits, except for me."
    She stops and turns towards me, looking up with those dark, green eyes.
    "No one," she repeats.
    I have come to a halt next to her and she keeps staring up at me with those sublime eyes.
    Fuck.
    Does she want me to rip her dress apart and destroy her right here and now?
    My eyes narrow as I look down on her.
    "What are those marks around your legs?" I repeat my question from earlier.
    "What's that tattoo you have on your back?" she asks back, throwing me a victorious