Pennies (Dollar 1)

I curled my good hand around my broken one, meaning to protect it but squeezing a tad too hard. No.

He looked at the ceiling, reclining against the bed head again. “Neither do I.” Tossing another penny, he caught it like a cat would a mouse, swatting it with his fist. “But we have all night to find out.”

No, we don’t.

We have until Master A loses his mind and comes for you.

I watched him beneath my lashes. He sprawled on my bed as if he owned everything in the room and not just me. The same exotic aftershave he wore plaited with the cool air and his very attitude was confident and powerful, chasing away terror of Master A appearing any moment.

Abandoning the penny, he shot me a look.

I dropped my vision, angry that I’d been caught looking.

With a slight grin, he opened his blazer and pulled out a slim cell-phone from the breast pocket. “Almost forgot.”

Unlocking the device, he dialled a number, his eyes glued on me as whoever he called picked up. “Selix, I won’t need the car tonight.”

The tinny reply sounded, but I couldn’t make out the words.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m staying the night. We’ll leave at first light.”

Leave? Where is he going?

I wanted him to go. Now. Before I could forsake myself further. But I wanted him to take me with him.

Just break me out.

You can leave me on the streets for all I care.

Just…get me out of here.

“Okay, fine. Stay outside. I don’t expect you to, but if you want to sleep in the car, so be it. I’ll be out at dawn.” Cutting the call, he tossed the phone to the bottom of the bed.

My eyes tracked it.

A phone.

Within touching distance.

A few seconds ticked past as I gawked.

“I take it you’re not allowed access to such things.” Mr. Prest laughed softly. “It’s not going to bite.”

No, but it could call my mother, my friends…the police.

Once again, his unnerving ability to read my body language gave me away. “Ah, you’re thinking about calling your family.” Using the toe of one foot, he tossed off his shoe, followed by the other, kicking them both off the bed and revealing black socked feet. “By all means, try. I’ll give you one chance to ring whoever you want. The password is 88098.”

I jolted.

You mean…you wouldn’t stop me?

Who the hell was this man? And what was his agenda?

Linking his arms behind his head, he whispered, “I won’t tell.” Closing his eyes, in some strange way giving me privacy, he rested his skull in cradling hands.

For an endless minute, I glowered at the phone. All it would take was a simple crawl and scoop and dial. I could talk to my mother after so long. I could finally inform someone what happened to me, beg them to come, and have this horror end.

“Of course, in order to use it, you’ll have to speak.” Mr. Prest’s voice put roadblocks in my way. “Your call, Pimlico. Speak and earn your freedom. Don’t and the phone remains unused.”

My lungs expanded with anger. That was his game all along. Damn him. He’d almost won. Yet…if he let me call, and I spoke to my mother…who truly won? Me or him?

Both of us.

My body decided before my mind. My good hand speared out, snatched the device, and curled around it like a tiger would her cub.

Mr. Prest never opened his eyes, but his smirk became a smile. “I look forward to hearing your voice.”

Ignoring his taunt, I swiped on the screen and input his password. The code glowed in my head, never to be forgotten. The moment the call menu came up, I stabbed my old home number, making three mistakes because of severely shaking hands.

I had a phone.

I was seconds away from talking to the mother who’d landed me in this mess.

My throat closed at the image of Mr. Prest seizing his mobile and laughing. Or that Master A would choose this exact moment to burst in. Panic swirled. What I would say to the woman who I’d blamed for so long?

I waited and waited for the line to connect.

Mother…

Help.

Ring-ring, ring-ring.

With each bell, my spine rolled further until I crouched on the bed with my elbows digging into the mattress. I couldn’t control my trembling, nor the shattered gasp as an automated message answered instead of the woman who’d given me this half-life.

“I’m sorry, the number you have dialled has been disconnected. No forwarding contact has been given. Please refer to other means or call your local directory for more information.”

No.

No.

No!

The phone fell from my hand, thudding softly as my forehead pressed hard on the bed.

She’d not only forgotten about me, she’d moved on with her existence. She’d had experiences without me, built an empire without me by her side.

I was nothing.

Why didn’t you call the police?