Blackbird (Redemption 1)

My knees weakened, and I slid down to the floor, my palms slapping listlessly against the door. I bowed my head as I continued to plea with anyone who might be listening, and soon my pleas turned into songs.

Soon after, I heard a key in the lock and hurried to stand.

My body shook violently through the seconds that felt like agonizing minutes, and I hoped for strength and safety as the door swung toward me, and I ran for the opening.

I didn’t even get through the doorframe before strong arms caught me and walked me backward, never seeming to care as I kicked, scratched, and screamed for help.

My screams turned frantic when I realized he was taking to me to the bed, and my efforts to get away from him doubled. “No, no! Let me go.”

The man never released me, and instead of laying me down, as I had feared he would, he sat on the edge of the bed with me cradled in his arms like a small child. He kept his head bowed to his chest to protect it from my futile attack, and his arms wrapped tightly and possessively around me as seconds turned to countless minutes.

The screams and cries for help had long died out, and the struggles to get away from him had ended in a mess of shaky limbs not long after.

“Are you ready to eat, girl?”

My body tensed at his question. It was the first time I’d heard him speak. Was this the man who had bought me, or another one of the captors?

His voice was deep and hypnotic. And although I couldn’t tell his age from his voice, the way he said girl, as if I was so much younger than him, made my stomach roll. How old was he? What was he going to do with me? What did he expect me to do for him?

My jaw trembled when that thought crossed my mind. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked minutes later.

Even if I knew what day it was, I wouldn’t have responded to him.

Even if I were hungry, I wouldn’t have told him.

I knew I needed food—my stomach had long stopped growling—but I didn’t want to think of food right now. The nausea I had become so familiar with during my time in the pitch-black room was still present, and he wasn’t helping by keeping me in his arms.

“It’s early Wednesday morning; now tell me when you last ate.”

My mouth opened with a soundless cry. I didn’t know what was most shocking and upsetting: that I had lost two and a half days, that Kyle and both of our parents would know I was missing, or that my entire world had been ripped away from me in such a short time.

I knew they would be looking for me. I knew that, despite the frustrations Kyle’s mom had, knowing we were living together and with me continuing to work at Glow, the governor would be using her status to do everything to help find me.

But I didn’t even know where I was. And it left such an odd and uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. How is someone supposed to find me when I don’t even know where I am?

“No?” he murmured, and his chest vibrated with his hum. One hand released me, but then he was pulling the silk robe I was wearing off my shoulder.

I flinched at the first contact of his fingers on my skin, though the touch was so soft it felt as though he had trailed a feather over me. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I waited for what would come next. My mind raced with the sickening possibilities, and my body became still as stone when his hand trailed down, down, down.

“Did the men touch you during the transporting?” he asked in a dangerous tone.

Someone help me, someone help me, please save me.

I cracked.

I trembled uncontrollably when his strong hand fell to my ankle then traveled back up my leg. I jerked when he reached the top of my thigh, pushing the bottom of the robe up as he went, and a quiet sob rushed from my lungs in the same breath that near-silent words started pouring from me.

His touch stilled for a second, and that vibration in his chest happened again, and I knew he was enjoying this.

Enjoying my terror.

“There you are,” he said, and curled me closer against his chest. His nose pressed against my hair, but he didn’t seem to be breathing. It was as if he was only listening to me.

I wanted to stop—needed to—but didn’t know how.

“Fitting,” he said after a moment; his husky tone almost sounded amused. “Over time, you’ll see how perfectly that song fits you, my blackbird.” He stood then, and turned to deposit me on the bed. “I’ll be back with food soon.”