Stay(32)

My feet scuffed against the pavement. You think it's just us? He had been to my house. He had fucking been to my house. You think it’s just us? Just how many people could he have working for him? I swallowed my pounding heart and shuffled past a windowless red van.

Nervous sweat rolled down my back, amplified by the beating sun. A group of kids screamed and laughed as they ran through a sprinkler in the parking lot. A few teenage boys huddled in the limited shade of a broken umbrella on a picnic table. Weeds grew in almost every crack in the sidewalk. Ants scurried around a popsicle stick. Zane went out of his way to stomp on them.

He pushed open the handprint-covered glass door to the front of the apartment complex. The lobby wasn't air-conditioned, and it reeked of body odor, water damage, and smoke. Zane pulled me up a flight of rose-colored carpeted stairs.

Everything began to feel surreal again as my mind checked out, unable to process what was going to happen. The muscles in my arms went slack as we walked down a hall. Zane stopped at a door at the end of the hall. He pounded on it, stepped back, and waited. It only took a few seconds for it to open.

A man stepped out. He appeared to be in his late twenties and was only about an inch taller than me. His wavy, blonde hair was oily and matted to his forehead. He had dark hazel eyes that slid up and down my body. I grimaced when he smiled, recoiling at his missing teeth. The few he had left were yellow. The skin around his nose and mouth was raw and red. The fact that this guy was most likely high from huffing household cleaners scared me.

"Got the money?" Zane asked, getting right to business.

"Yup. Here 'ya go.” The guy dug a wad of cash out of his pocket. Zane smoothed out the twenties and counted it twice.

"One hour," Zane said and shoved me forward into the cruddy apartment before he spun around and casually walked down the hall.

The guy brushed past me and closed the door. I wrapped my arms around myself and fought back tears. Zane made it very clear that my family would pay for my misbehavior. I could risk myself, but I wasn't going to risk them. I couldn't.

The guy sniffled and wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand. He tipped his head, motioning for me to follow him. He unbuttoned his baggy jeans as he walked through the living room. I stepped over fast food wrappers and followed, my throat tightening with each step.

Halfway to the bedroom, I stopped, my foot hovering mid-step in the air. "No," I whispered to myself. I wasn't going to give up just yet. I still had faith I could make it to the police in time. I still believed Zane was lying. I took a deep breath, turned around, and sprinted to the door. My fingers fumbled with the lock.

"Hey," the guy started and made a move to race after me. I was faster. I threw the door back and froze.#p#分页标题#e#

No. I had come this far only to be stopped … again.

Zane was standing in the doorway with his arms on either side of the frame. He laughed when he saw the horrified shock on my face.

"I knew you'd try and leave," he taunted. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. "You'll pay for that." He shoved me inside and closed the door behind us. “You like ‘em tied up?” Zane asked the customer.

The guy—my client—chuckled and nodded. Zane reached behind him and retrieved a set of handcuffs. Light reflected off the metal. Brown, crusted blood speckled the rims.

“No!” I yelled and fought against Zane. “No!” I tightened my arms and tried to twist away. He was going to handcuff me, and I wouldn’t be able to get away. Panic choked me. I screamed. My head throbbed from the blood rush.

“Where do you want her?” Zane asked and grabbed the back of my neck, tightly wrapping his fingers around me.

The guy pointed behind him, and Zane thrust me forward, forcing me down the hall. I straightened my legs and locked my knees, refusing to walk any further. Tears splashed to the floor. I brought my head back, hoping to hit Zane in the nose, but all it did was crunch my spine. Zane brought his knee up, hitting me in the tailbone. My knees buckled, and he forced me forward and into the bedroom.

Zane hoisted me up onto the bed and straddled me. The mattress was lumpy and smelled like stale cigarettes. He forced my arms over my head and locked the handcuffs to a wooden headboard. He slowly moved his body down, pressing himself against my pelvis and showing that manhandling me aroused him.

“You be a good girl,” Zane whispered. He put his lips just an inch above mine, his breath hot in my face. Then he tipped his head and licked me, trailing his tongue up my neck. He laughed and moved off of me. He tossed the keys to the handcuffs to the client. “One hour,” Zane reminded him and left. I heard the apartment door slam shut. The guy unzipped his pants and crawled onto the bed.