Page 4 of Keep

I kept my gaze forward, uncertain how he’d even seen me when he’d seemed so focused on the road. But the how didn’t matter. I was on alert now, knew this man didn’t miss anything.

It was strange—not being watched, because God knew David did that—but being seen. I almost felt invisible around David, tried to keep myself that way especially when I sensed he was in the mood to inflict some of his petty tortures. But this man was aware, paying attention even when he seemed not to be. I’d have to stay on guard.

Silence again reigned, and though the vehicle was large, his presence was oppressive, almost overbearing. Not daring to risk looking at him directly, I peeped at him through the thick fans of my false lashes, certain he knew what I was doing, but unable to stop myself.

I glimpsed his huge hands, which still gripped the steering wheel tight, let my gaze move up bulging arms that were covered with inky-dark tattoos. Another surreptitious glance revealed a harsh face, one set in an expression that could be taken for anger, but that I suspected was just the natural set of his features, hoped so anyway.

And to my surprise and horror, through the fear, there was a stirring of something, my mind conjuring what it might be like to see that face set in some other expression.

I tossed the thought away and averted my eyes, chiding myself for even letting such a thought in before turning my attention back to my predicament. Each revolution of the wheels moved me farther from David, closer to an uncertain future. And as we moved, I cursed him, his pride, his stupidity.

He loved that, parading me around in front of his “clients,” his own personal whore to be gawked at, but to never, ever be touched. If I’d been braver, or stupider, I’d have told him what he risked—what he made me risk. David thought himself important, one who wouldn’t be crossed, but he hadn’t seen, or hadn’t cared to see, how they’d looked at me, hadn’t seen what I had seen, that threat of brutality I had come to recognize on sight.

Deep down, I’d known it was only a matter of time until this happened, until one of the awful men David dealt with decided to turn the tables on him. My fears had been realized. And I was left to deal with the consequences.

Far too late, I’d realized what David did, what type of men his clients were, and this man was no different. Maybe even worse. David had displayed a level of obsequiousness that was extreme for even him, which told me that this man, physically imposing as he was, had more than size to back him. He had money. Power. Probably both.

And I was trapped with him.

David had done things, things I tried to convince myself I’d one day forget, but he’d never shared me. That he’d offered me to this man meant something significant.

And that this man had taken me without giving David a second look told me something else, told me that despite David’s connections, his money, this man felt no hesitation about crossing him, which meant he’d have none about hurting me.

My heart skidded harder, and I wanted to shrink away, curl into a ball and hide.

But there was nowhere to go, so I sat silent, tense, anticipation flooding through me. I sneaked another glance at him, looking for any shift in his completely unreadable features. But there was nothing. So I gripped the door handle tighter and rode with this stranger into the unknown.

FOUR

Fawn

The man stopped and pulled to the side of the road. He got out and stood next to the closed door, his huge form blocking the entire window. I listened to the sound of spinning gravel, heard a car door close, and then a shadowed figure leaned casually against the new vehicle.

They spoke in hushed tones, the language between them familiar, though I couldn’t quite place it. There was no urgency in their speech, no particular menace, but my mind filled with all manner of horrors.

Was he selling me? Arranging something with his friends? I knew that people like me, disposable possessions, faced such fates with depressing regularity, and my throat tightened as I considered the possibilities, what I might do to get out of this.

Then he and the other man embraced and he folded his body back into the car and sped off.

I cursed myself, my slowness and my stupidity again leaving me at his mercy. Maybe I could have run away, found a way out. But yet again I’d failed, and yet again I was stuck.

The man drove, not looking at me, not speaking to me, seeming to be unaware of my presence altogether, though I knew that wasn’t the case. It had been a very long time since I prayed, so long that I couldn’t remember when I last had, but I did so now, my fingers still tight on the door handle as I exalted God, any god, for help, prayed I would make it through this.

When he stopped the car again, he got out and walked around it, his steps all the more terrifying because of his grace. Without a word, he opened the door, stared down at me expectantly, and after a deep breath, I stood and then followed him, hobbling along on my broken heel.

I hadn’t known what I expected, was desperate for any hint of where we were, and I glanced around avidly, looking for any clue. But it was too dark for me to tell much about my surroundings, quiet, so still it seemed like he and I were the only souls on the planet.

And so it went. I followed as best I could across what felt like a smooth driveway until he stopped in front of the structure that I presumed was his home. After opening a metal door, he looked inside, silently ordering me to enter. I did and he came in behind me.

And when I heard the door close, the click of a lock, I felt the eerie sensation my fate had been sealed.

The man still hadn’t spoken, and I watched him as he entered the room, grateful when he flipped on one small light that didn’t illuminate the place but at least gave me some sense of where I was. It appeared to be someone’s dwelling, though there was nothing personal about it.

I let my eyes touch everything except the huge bed that took up one corner of the space. Silly really, because people like him, dangerous ones, didn’t need beds to inflict their damage. But better to not even give him the reminder.

He went through a door, and I heard water turn on.

I stayed still, but when the faucet clicked off, something inside me bounded to action, and I moved back as quickly as my heels would allow, arm outstretched as I groped for the door handle.

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