Devotion

He talked to me in a way no one ever has—dirty things about me wanting people to watch me, that I craved that attention. I didn’t know how right he was until the words passed his lips.

I craved attention. First from my mom, thinking she’d love how good I dance and would praise me for once. That she would want to be around me, love me. When I didn’t get it there, I fought to be the best in my dance classes, wanting everyone’s approval. He was right. I craved attention. But now the only attention I want is his, and he doesn’t belong to me. I only have a year here. If that.

Who knows what will happen when he wakes up and we face what we did today. Will he still look at me like he did when he’d taken me over and over? As if he wouldn’t get enough of me. He couldn’t get deep enough inside me to sate his need.

Or was I just a toy like I heard that woman say? Just one of many. For all I know, he teaches a new girl every year. If that’s even what he’s doing. He hasn’t taught me anything about dance. In fact, I’ve never even heard him talk about it other than to tell me to do what I wanted. I don’t even know if he knows anything about training, the more I think on it.

The house is completely silent as I make my way through it. I know where I’m going. The one place I know Noah spends all his time. His office. As I walk, I think about how I don’t recall Elina ever pointing out a bedroom for him.

When I get to the thick black doors, I turn the knob and it opens. I gasp at how pretty it is. A giant black desk sits in front for the three large windows overlooking the water. Both walls to the right and left are covered in flat-screen TVs. Who needs this many TVs? I walk over to one of the shelves next to the TV monitors and see rows and rows of DVD cases with my name on them. I pull one out and see a date scrawled on the cover. I start pulling more and more off the shelves and see each are dated, every day in order, going back to two months ago.

“What the hell?” I grab one and walk over to the TVs and try to turn one on. I hit a button and all of them come on at once. The screens fill up with various security feeds, each panel showing a different area of the house. One screen shows a feed of the area outside my bedroom, and most of the others show different angles of the dance studio.

I turn around to look at the other wall and see video clips of me dancing on them. I’m on all of them. I drop the DVD in my hand. I don’t know what to make of this. I’m surrounded by images of myself on a loop, playing over and over. I start to shake.

“Little star, I don’t like when you leave our bed when I’m still in it.”

I turn to look at Noah, who’s standing in the doorway to his office. His eyes are trained on me. It’s as if he doesn’t see what I’m seeing. He’s standing there in only a pair of boxer briefs. Maybe he doesn’t notice because he’s used to this. Maybe I’m always on the monitors.

“What is this? Is this…” I stumble, trying to think why he would have all this. “Is this because you study me so you can teach me to dance better or something? Like football players who watch their games?” As if finally noticing the monitors, he turns his head to look at them.

“No, little star. This was so I could breathe,” he says softly, making his way toward me. I take a step back, and his eyes narrow. “What did I say about running from me?”

I don’t want to run. I really don’t. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“Come back to bed. I’ll make us something to eat and we’ll lie together and watch a movie. Your pick.” He pulls me to him, and I melt into him. My body does as it pleases even though my mind is trying to rebel. My heart and body are winning the war.

“You always do that,” I mutter.

“What, little star?” He’s genuinely confused as he looks down at me.

“You don’t answer when I ask a question. You just say something else.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying—”

This time I cut him off. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. It’s nothing new to me. I know to do as I’m told,” I say, pulling from his arms and heading back to my room.