A Debt Repaid (The Debt Duet 2)

I clear my throat. “Thank you. And I’m sorry about your phone. I will buy you a new one, somehow.” But first, I need to make money.

He grins. “Don’t worry about it. I have a backup phone in my drawer. Stay as long as you need to get back on your feet.” He pats my shoulder. “And you should go to the police with your story. I’ll help you if you want.”

As nice as that offer is, I’m not sure I want to take him up on it. After all, who knows how far Easton’s power reaches. I’d be a fool to assume he doesn’t have the local law enforcement in his pockets too.

“Ahh … maybe later but not now.”

He nods. “I get it. You’re scared. But it will get better,” he says with a genuine look in his eyes. “I promise.”

His warm hand on my shoulder and carefree expression make the world seem simple, as though everything could be solved with a gentle smile. If only everyone was like him, maybe it could.

Chapter 8

Charlotte

A few weeks have passed since my brother was in the hospital. I regretted ever calling him the moment the call ended. It was a trap, and I fell for it like a fool. I should’ve ignored it, but I didn’t because I care too much about my family. Always have. Easton was right. It’s the only weakness I have and will probably be my downfall too.

And now Deion knows too. Honestly, I’m surprised he let me stay. Anyone should be afraid of people who have the power and means to buy other people as pets.

Still, my story didn’t faze him.

I admire his resilience. He’s so much more positive than I am.

Ever since that day, I’ve held back and kept to myself. I don’t go out much. I stay inside the home and clean up where I can by doing dishes, laundry, dusting, whatever I can to pitch in my share of the work. I can’t bring in any money, but I can do this.

I wish I could get a job, but the more time I spend outside, the scarier it gets. What if my father or Easton find me? I have a much better chance of staying free if I remain here. Not to mention the fact that I still can’t speak the language. Though, Ashanti has been teaching me words, like appeltaart, which is an apple pie, and slapen, which is sleeping. Some basic words but not many. Nothing that would do me any good in real life anyway.

I don’t mind, though, because I’m enjoying life here in this tiny house. It’s comfy and a real place I can call home. Whenever Deion and Ashanti come home, they light up the place with their stories and conversations, and I can’t get enough of listening to them.

It’s like I get to live in a bubble. One that could burst at any moment, and then we’d drown in the pits of the ocean filled with sharks looking for new flesh to sink their teeth into.

A bubble … just like any other prison.

Nothing has changed because I’m not free. I never have been. Not even as I sweep the floors of this house out of my own free will. A free person could step out of their home whenever they wanted. I can’t.

Or can I? Would they really be able to find me?

It’s been quiet these past few weeks. Even though I used Deion’s phone, no one came to this house to look for me. Maybe they didn’t trace the number. Maybe it was all in my head, and my father really did want me to tell him myself. Maybe I told myself he could do all those crazy things because I’m scared … scared of truly living like a free woman. But freedom is meant to be scary. Freedom is meant to be seized.

That’s it. I’m not hiding in here any longer. I grab the coat Deion bought for me and put it on. Right as I open the door, his mere figure in the doorway makes me jump.

“Jesus, you scared me,” I say, my heart racing. He’s back from work soon.

“Sorry. Wait … were you going somewhere?” he asks.

“I, uh …” I didn’t expect to bump into anyone while on the way out, let alone Deion. He won’t be angry, will he?

“Was thinking of going out, maybe?” I say, my voice soft and crackly.

His eyes light up. “Want to come with me to pick Ashanti up from school?”

Whoa. I didn’t expect him to be this enthusiastic. As though he’s looking forward to bringing me along for the ride. He never truly gets angry, no matter what I say, and I admire that.

“We’ll drop by the store too after, if that’s okay with you,” he says.

“Of course,” I reply.