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His face is thick with that beard, and under his t-shirt and down his arms and around his neck I see the thick cover of ink and my mind wanders to exploring all that intricate detail.
With my tongue.
“Hey.” Chain puts another bite of the comforting pot-pie between my lips as I still the tears that are burning my lids. “I’m sorry. You can tell me what you want. What I have to know before we leave this room, what you need to convince me beyond any doubt, is what happened here was you on your own.”
I nod, chewing and swallowing, then answer, “I swear. It’s just my deal. I’m alone.” I start, unable to stop the words once they start. “After my parents were killed, I got so fucking sick of watching the takers constantly take from everyone. Power, intimidation…I’ve sort of become this weird Robin Hood. I do it because it’s what I can do and it gives me a sense of purpose in a strange way. I don’t care to live in the suburbs with a mortgage and the oppressive who has what mindset.”
“So, you are a beautiful con artist.”
His voice hits me somewhere in my heart and I shrug. “Not sure about the beautiful part on my best day. And for sure, this is not my best day.” I glance down at the bucket and screw up my face.
“They’re all your best days.” He chides, giving me the last bite and watching me intently as I chew and swallow.
I’ve survived a lot. Being locked in this room not the worst of them, but certainly not the best. I should still want to hit Chain in the head with that pipe, but instead I want to lean into him. I want to put my head on his chest and feel his arms loop around me, tugging me tight and making me feel that he is my safe harbor.
Not my captor.
Not the one that could decide my fate.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I’ll help you make money. I’ve got other skills, with money, currency trading. I’m more than a low-level shit taker. I’ll help your club, whatever. Just, let me out of here.” Part of me is still playing the part. Counting on him letting down his guard, then I’ll make my move.
But another part of me, a twinge I don’t recall feeling before, is sincere. I will help them. Especially if it means more time with Chain.
“If I give you your freedom, it will be earned. You will do as I say, and I will protect you from the rest of the club. They want you dead. Or half of them. You disrespected us. That’s not easily fixed.”
I nod, the stench of this room and the way he’s looking at me making my head spin.
“I’m going to untie you. And then I’m going to walk you out of here. You keep your mouth shut and hold my hand and things will get better for you. You try any shit again, being tied up will be the least of your worries.”
His spooky blue eyes are always connected to me when he’s in here, and as much as I am planning my getaway, I’m under his spell. “How do you know what my worries are?” I counter, unwilling to completely yield to the power he has over me at the moment.
“I’d like to know.”
He sets down the plate and stands, pulling a key from his pocket and clicking open the padlock holding the chain attached to the steel collar around my neck.
He reaches down with his other hand and I grab his hand with mine, the other pushing up until I’m next to him and that scent once again wraps itself around me, making me weaker than I already feel.
“You’re going to keep your mouth shut. This collar stays. You follow where I lead, we clear?”
“Clear.” I agree, the two parts of me still battling it out, but if my goal is to be out of this prison I’m going to do as much agreeing as is necessary at the moment.
“Where are you staying? You said you just came into town when I asked you the other day…”
“Haywood Motor Lodge on Route 6. But, my pick-up is parked a couple blocks from here…”
“Okay. I’ve got your backpack upstairs, I’ll get one of the guys to drive your pick up to my place. We’re going to go get your things, then you’re staying with me. You’ll get a shower and I’ll tell you what’s next for you. You step out of line, you try any shit, you’re going to end up right back here. And that’s if you’re lucky.”
I swallow, and against my better judgment I salute. “Yes, Sir.” The mocking tone does nothing for him as he rolls his eyes and gives the leash a tug.
