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Zeke nods. “Yeah, you’ll be fine. You fit in around two Jamaican and American Black guys. I think you can handle Cubans. They’re good people. Prez’s people are super fucking loyal and know how to hide bodies. Your type of people. Don’t act like you’re lily-white, respect the culture and you’ll be good. Prez will tell you more.”
Fire buzzes in my veins as I think about being able to walk the streets as a free man. Being able to enjoy coming and going as I please, not thinking about rec time, shower time, and visiting hours. I can be free. I can brush up on my Spanish, eat new foods, immerse myself in the place I’ll live until my dying days.
I’m ready.
“One more thing,” Zeke says and I tear my eyes away from the file that holds my future. I catch the bag he tosses at me before it hits me in the face. When I open it, I glare at him anew. Taking the jumbo box of condoms and lube bottle from it, I set them on the table. He grins when I raise an eyebrow at him. “You don’t need a lot of that lube,” he says, barely containing his laughter. “A little goes a long way.”
“Out,” I tell him, pointing to the door.
“Soon, big guy.”
We sit and catch up for the next two or so hours, until I hear Finn shout from upstairs. “He’s probably hungry.”
“I’m sure.” Zeke stands up and gives me a long hug. “I’ll be back when I can sneak away. I’m not sure how long the cops will trail us if they can’t find you, but I’ll come back and I’ll be careful.”
“I know. Love you brother.”
“Like I had any doubt.” Zeke winks and finishes up cooking before he leaves the house. Then I trot up the stairs to let my hostage out so he can relieve himself.
Chapter 10
Finn
Panties. Zeke brought me panties. And not just any panties—the expensive kind that even I can’t afford. They felt like silk against my skin when I try them on—with one hand, which is annoying. My cock isn’t very big, so the panties cover everything with no problem.
Did Rax ask him to buy them for me or did Zeke assume I wore panties? Did he see them when I was squatting in front of his bike? No, couldn’t have. My pants fit perfectly and I would have known if they were sagging and showing my crack.
It had to be Rax.
But why?
He’s threatened me and scared me since he put that gun to my back. Why would he want me to be—
Comfortable. He wants me to be comfortable. Still … why?
I rattle the handcuff and scowl at it. I know I shouldn’t have tried to run yesterday, but I wasn’t trying to get away from him. I just needed out.
Seeing my mother cry made my stomach churn. She wasn’t hurt because I’m missing. My mother doesn’t really give a damn about me. Ever since I came out, she’s given less than a fuck about me. My dad, though, was my heart and stuck beside me. He was the one that had my back and told my mom to back off when she would say sneaky shit to me about my sexuality. When he died, my mom stopped trying to be sneaky about her words.
The fact that she had the audacity to use my kidnapping for her fifteen minutes of fame broke me. I refuse to believe that she suddenly started caring for me when she told me I was better off dead when I told her I was gay.
When I’m out of Rax’s clutches, I want to go back home, but not to my house. I want to go about my plan to move to St. Louis and wash my hands of my mother and of Reverdale, a place where I’m not accepted.
Again, I rattle my handcuff, wondering when Rax will be done talking to Zeke so he can let me out. It’s really hard to sleep or get comfortable with one hand above my head.
Grabbing the remote from the bedside table, I turn on the television, hoping something besides the news is on. Instead of watching cable, I click on a streaming service and start a movie. My eyes keep drifting over to the colorful panties. Zeke brought me a lot, different colors and prints, but all the same style. Now I really want to know how he knew I preferred the cheeky style over full coverage.
I sit in my room for almost two hours, watching mindless TV until my stomach starts to growl. The amazing scent of whatever they’re cooking has wafted up the stairs and it’s getting the better of me. So, I shout for Rax. I need food.
When the door opens, I’m greeted with the almost subdued expression of Rax. I’m left in shock when he says, “Sorry that took so long.”
“‘S okay,” I mutter, watching as he moves over to me and undoes my cuff.
He looks at the panties on the bed, a small smirk on his lips. “Do you like them?”
“Umm … I uh … yes. Your idea?”
Rax shrugs but doesn’t answer. “Come. Zeke made dinner.”
