After a while, when I couldn’t fall back asleep, I asked, “What about your band? You … I thought you were going on tour.” It was a long shot that he’d tell me anything, but I hoped we could talk like we used to. Maybe I could learn why he was doing this. What had changed so drastically?
He kept drawing on me while he spoke. “We’ll get there.”
“When you leave here?”
“Yeah, Emily.”
Okay, so that meant he didn’t plan on staying forever. Or keeping me? Oh God, would he leave me here? Was he going to sell me? My throat tightened as I said, “When?”
“We can’t be having this conversation.”
I had to talk to try to stop the panic from taking control. I had to pretend, at least in the dark, that we were somewhere else. That if he left, he’d take me with him. “How did the band get together?”
Logan chuckled, and the sound made me jump then stiffen, uncertain why he’d laugh. My panicked mind thought maybe I’d pushed him with the questions and he was laughing because now he was going to punish me. God, that sounded ridiculous. Logan wouldn’t laugh if he was going to hurt me, he’d be angry.
I was losing it. I was fighting the fear of him leaving me here or selling me and everything he did I was second guessing, trying to decipher what it meant. But I couldn’t, could I? Because I didn’t know who Logan was.
“From the moment I met you, you wouldn’t give up. Why was I expecting any different even here?”
I took a deep breath when his voice was calm and playful. We’d met the night of his fight, when I’d asked him to teach me self-defense, he’d laughed; then after making fun of me he told me a direct no. But I wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Logan found that out pretty quick.
“I met Kite when I was sixteen.” My muscles relaxed as he started talking. “My mother and I had just moved to Toronto, and Kite and I went to the same school. We became instant friends.” I felt him shrug. “Think it was his calm, take-no-shit attitude. First time I saw him was in the lunch room where a couple of guys purposely bumped him then pushed his tray out of his hands, spilling his food onto the floor. Kite picked up his tray, threw his ruined lunch in the garbage then strolled over to the guys who were now sitting at the table laughing.
Kite never said a word as he grabbed one guy and had him on the ground crying within seconds. The other guy took off running. There wasn’t a flicker of fear or unease in Kite.
We started hanging out after that. He’d just left a band he was playing with. I found out the two guys were his old bandmates. Kite played drums, and we soon discovered I could hold a tune.” Logan kissed my neck just below my ear, and I shivered. “We hung out at the local coffee shop where I started writing my own music. Georgie bought the place a couple years later.”
“I didn’t realize you knew her.”
“She introduced me to Crisis and Ream. They were friends with her brother.”
“Brother? She never told me she had a brother.”
His finger stopped tracing for a second and then started again. “Yeah. Georgie’s brother was in the JTF2—Joint Task Force 2—with Deck. A counter terrorism unit. Deck came back from their last mission, Georgie’s brother didn’t.”
“Oh. God.” I hadn’t known. Was that why Deck was so protective of Georgie?
“Go back to sleep, Eme.”
“Logan?”
“Yes, Emily.”
“When can we leave?” I held my breath. Afraid to ask the question, yet needing to know if he was taking me with him when he left. I hoped. No, I prayed he’d tell me not to worry. That he’d never leave me. That he’d never sell me. But the truth was—I didn’t know.
I felt his muscles stiffen, and he drew in a deep breath. Our moment was over. It changed within seconds, and I wanted to cry and hit him then yell and scream. Instead I watched him as he threw back the covers, got out of bed—still with a raging hard on—then strode into the bathroom closing the door.
The tears slid down my cheeks and I buried my face in the pillow as the sobs took hold. Logan was going to sell me.
The day was lonely after Logan left. He’d showered, dressed, then walked out without a single word to me. I waited all day for him to come back, uncertainty playing with my mind as I paced the length of the room. I ignored the food the girl brought and saw her frown when she came back to get the tray and the food remained untouched. In the afternoon the same thing happened except this time the girl kept her eyes lowered.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted from worrying if whether or not Logan was trying to find a buyer for me today. I’d upset him, pushed him with my questions.
When the door finally opened it was dark outside. I knelt in the corner of the room and held my breath until I peeked up and saw that it was Logan and not Alfonzo coming to drag me away. I wanted to throw myself into his arms with relief. I wanted to cry and I wanted to kiss him and thank him.
God, I was crazy. There was something wrong with me. I was so screwed up with my feeling toward Logan. One moment afraid of him, the next wanting him, then terrified he was going to sell me then having hope he’d get me out of here.
What did comfort me was that, if given the chance, I’d leave. I’d leave Logan, and I’d get out. I’d never look back. I may want him sexually or want the comfort of someone I’d once loved, but that would end the second I escaped.
I even wondered if I would kill Logan to do it. These thoughts are what happen when left alone for ten hours with nothing to do. My mind went on an imagination highway contemplating scenarios that may never be true.