HIS TO KEEP

My heart is beating like crazy. I’m in the back of a car. Someone took me in broad daylight and no one even batted an eyelash. What is this world coming to?

I haven’t done anything wrong. Why would anyone want me? Fuck. I hope Dad and Mom didn’t get me into some shit. What if they sold me to buy drugs?

This was my greatest fear growing up, but I thought no one would want me at nineteen years old. They’re so going to use me as a sex slave. I’ve never even had sex. Is this how I’ll lose my V-card? I mean… it’s better than losing it to your dad — story for another day.

I have to come up with an escape plan.The door opens. I feel the change in the air as we go inside what I assume is a house. I pull and push—nothing. Strong hands hold me. It’s one person. Strong.

But even if I’m not strong, I’m smart. It’s easy to outsmart a gangster and escape.

My stomach rumbles. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten in days. Dad stole the little money I had hidden—now I have to start from scratch.

Suddenly, I’m thrown onto a bed.

Is he planning to have his way with me?

Before my thoughts can go too far, the door opens again. Then it closes. He’s gone. I try to move—both my hands and legs are tied.

Five minutes later, the gangster comes back. He smells like cocoa butter. I shouldn’t be thinking this, but he smells so good. I haven’t had a decent shower in days—maybe that will save me. The Johnnies will say, “Set him free, he stinks.”

One side of the bed sinks. Someone sits beside me. He helps me sit up. There’s a sweet aroma—no, burgers.

He lifts the black cloth from my face, and—Christ—my breath catches.

His eyes.

They’re beautiful. He’s staring at me like he can see straight into my soul. He clears his throat and removes the cell tape from my mouth. Then he rubs his thumb gently around my lips, like he’s trying to ease the pain there.

He steps back and holds out the burger.

“Eat,” he says, his voice rough.

I want to. No—I need to eat. But I’m stubborn.

“Why?”

“You’re hungry,” he says.

“Why am I here?” I ask. “And how much do they own you?”

He looks confused.“My parents,” I try to clarify, but I still get nothing.

Maybe he was just given a job—to take me and drop me somewhere—no backstory, no questions.

“I want to talk to your boss.”

“First, eat,” he says. “Everything else later.”

He holds the food closer to my mouth and starts feeding me. He watches me carefully—my lips, my throat. Too carefully. Then he lifts a drink, and I drink.

I’m eating and drinking greedily, like I might never get food again. I hate how desperate I look, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

All the while, I keep watching his eyes.

Blue. Like the ocean.

I like the ocean.

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