by Pavan Kaur
“Bitch, you pay your rent before you leave,” the landlord shouts out. “So, where is it?”
“How much is it?”
“Ninety bucks.”
I throw a hundred at him and tell him to fuck off. Ninety dollars for this shit place? I look around the room to see there’s no bed, no place to put her clothes, nothing. This place should be free to stay in. I mean the cold breeze outside gushes through the cracks of the window. Is this really the only place that she can afford? She was ready to leave all her medication here, but that small box in her hand she grabbed. That box meant more to her than staying well.
"Is there anything besides your medication that's worth taking?" I ask. She stays quiet, and I ask again. I look down at her hands as she scratches at her rash. Grabbing the bag, I tell her, "Let's go." And for a moment I think she's going to fight with me about it, but she doesn't. She tries to walk away, but I stand in front of her, and she takes three quick steps back. I know that I’ve just come down hard on her and I should have said it calmer, but looking around this place got me angry that someone is living like this and I’m not going to just leave her here.
Taking one step closer to her, I gently lift her chin with my finger. Her eyes are open but not looking at me. She’s making sure she doesn’t make eye contact with me, but I can’t stop looking at her. Moving to the side, I let her walk out of the apartment and I look around the room once more before I leave.
Chapter 5
Hope
"I'm sorry, please don't hurt me," I beg Uncle Jack, but it's not getting me anywhere. He still hurts me.
"I have to train you so you won't make a sound," he whispers in my ear, and I cry. I cry out loud. I want my mom, I want my dad, I want someone to help me.
The knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I open it slightly. It's the landlord. "Someone is here to talk to you." He pushes the door wider, and my eyes are met with the guy from the restaurant. Breaking eye contact with him, I quickly try to shut the door, but he stops me. Running to the floor I grab the box and lift the window to climb out, but I'm stopped again by someone, the man that was with him.
I knew they would find me and I knew when they did I’d run, but I never thought about where I would run to. Now it’s too late, I have to go back to him.
I have to live in hell again.
I walk over to the corner, and the landlord shouts for this month's money. He wants his rent. The man asks him how much it is and then he throws some money at him and tells him to leave.
I’m left in the room with him. His friend seems to have gone too. I hold the box tighter; this is one thing I have never left behind, no matter what, I will always go back for this.
"Is there anything besides your medication that's worth taking?" he asks me and I stay quiet, keeping my head down. Never look at men, that's what I was told, and now it's the only thing I know. I start scratching my hands again as I didn't get time to put lotion on them. "Let's go." My heart sinks. This is it. It's all going to happen to me again, and I can't do it. I don't think I can survive this again, but before I can stop myself, I'm walking towards the door, then quickly take steps back when he stops in front of me.
My body heats up when his finger is placed under my chin. It’s not hard like they normally do. He gently lifts my head up. I move my eyes to the side, so I can’t see him. I don’t want to know what he looks like, the short glimpse that I got when the door opened is all I needed to see. I saw the darkness around him. I already know that he’s just as bad as he was, but his brown eyes were soft; softer than I normally see. He moves out of the way and letting my head drop I leave.
As I follow him to the car, I wonder how they found me. What did I do wrong? I never looked at anyone. I never spoke to anyone. But the other day, I had a feeling someone was watching me, that should have been the clue for me. I should have run then.
Sitting in the car, with him and his friend, I look down at my hands and start peeling off the skin that has been scratched off. I need to put some lotion on them before they start to bleed, but I don't know if I can talk yet or not. I look to the side and see my bag of medication next to him. I turn back to my hands, too scared to ask for it.
"Here," I hear him say, and the bag is pushed to my side.
Not saying anything, I take out the lotion and start rubbing it on my hands. This is going to be a long drive back to hell, and I'm already fighting the tears building up in my eyes.
I hear the two men talking, but I can't really make out what they're saying. Something about a man and he's at it again. Putting the lotion back into the bag, I start rubbing it in further until the car stops; one of the men gets out.
"Call me as soon as you have it set up," he tells his friend as he leaves. The door closes, and the car is moving again. "When do you have to take your next medication?" he asks, but I don't answer as I can't see the time, so at the moment I don't know. "You dropped the tray this morning, and then your hands were shaking. Are your wrists hurting?" What is he doing? He’s not meant to be talking to me. Why is he talking to me?
The car stops and a moment later my door is opened. We can’t be here. I know that it would take a day or more. I mean it took me over a week to get here.
"Let's go," the brown-eyed man says, and I get out but stand where I am. I'm in public now. I can run, and he can't hold me here. Someone would call the cops, someone would help me right? As if he's reading my mind, he leans down and whispers to me, "You have no money. I have all your medication. I'll find you; wherever you run. I'll find you again. So, how about you walk into my house?" Giving him a small nod, I start walking up to the front door.
After he opens the door, he walks over to turn off the alarm. I follow, and the door closes behind me. When the alarm is disarmed, he starts to walk up the stairs without saying a word. I follow him. "It's been a long day. This is your room. I'll come for you in the morning for breakfast." He closes the door behind me and leaves, his footsteps getting further away.
I'm looking around this massive room with its huge floor to ceiling windows that look out onto the city below. I mean this is about ten sizes bigger than my apartment. My eyes begin traveling at the walls to see if I can find the camera, they always have cameras. Staring at the bed, I shake my head and lie on the floor. The floor has been my bed for nearly fourteen years. The floor is where I sleep. I know the rules; I know that I can't break them.
I take my medication and glance at the clock before turning the light off. I look at the lights outside the window.
Chapter 6
Leo
I didn't sleep at all last night. I wanted to ask her every question I could think of, but I had to stop myself. She's so scared, and I don't know why. I know bringing her here last night was a big thing to do, but I knew I couldn’t walk away from her, the pull she has on me is too strong and I couldn’t walk away after seeing how she lives.
I searched for her name on the internet, hoping that I would find something, but Hope is a name that came up a lot. So now I’m thinking about what else I can do to find out something about her. It would help if I had her last name.
Opening the door to her bedroom, I stop and observe her. I'm not usually stopped in my tracks, but today that has happened and never in my life have I felt so angry. Walking over, I kneel beside her. Why the fuck is she sleeping on the floor and without a cover on her when there's a bed right next to her? Taking in a deep breath to calm myself, I pay attention to her face; she looks so innocent, like sleeping beauty. I reach out to touch her face to wake her up, but she gasps in shock, her nightmare woke her, and she sees my hand and moves away from me quickly, bowing her face so I can't see her again.
“I have breakfast ready,” I say standing up and taking a step away from her. Normally I’m a man that knows what I want, but with her, I have no idea what to do. “I’ll be in the dining area.” Leaving her bedroom, I head down the stairs towards the table in the dining room. I called Jackson to see if he found the man
that I want to talk to tonight and he told me that once he was ready and all set up he would call me.
Sitting at the table, I wait for Hope to come down the stairs. It’s not long before she enters; she’s so quiet I didn’t even hear the door open or close. She stands until I tell her to take a seat then she pulls out a chair and sits a few seats away from me. I watch as she sits up straight, her eyes on the plate, her hand coming up to the fork shaking the whole time.
"Coffee?" I ask her, and she shakes her head; well I think she did as it was the slightest movement I've ever seen. She looks like she needs to eat, so I made scrambled eggs and toast. She stops for a second then puts some egg on her fork and puts it to her mouth. Happy that she’s eating, I start on my own breakfast.
I watch her again as she pushes the plate away and she sits there staring at the table. She’s only had one forkful of food. Did I make a mistake by bringing her here? Or has she always been like this?
"What's your last name?" I ask. I looked at her tablets last night and it only had her first name on there, now that got me asking more questions as there was no way you can get any tablets without a surname, and I plan on finding out about that too.
By tonight I want to know more about her; I want to know where her parents are, where she went to school. I want to know as much as I can. "Do you need any more medication? Do you need to see a doctor? I have a friend that works at the children's hospital, she could come see you." Hope shifts a little in her chair, and I know that she doesn't want that. "Can I take your medication to her and see what she says?" Nothing, but this is the only thing I can think of doing that might help me with what's wrong with her and how I can help her. The person who works in the children's hospital isn't actually my friend, it's my mother, and I know she won't say anything to anyone if I asked her not to.
I’m getting no answers from Hope. “I have to go to work, make yourself at home.” I pick up her plate and walk out of the room and into the kitchen where I place everything in the sink. Without saying anything I go to her room and take a picture of all her medication and then leave for work.
I call my mom asking her to come to the office with Dad as I want to talk to her about something. I would've gone there, but I have to read some of the contracts over for the new projects we're taking on.
Grabbing the phone, I dial Jackson's number. "Please tell me you've got a toy for me to play with?" I ask him before he can even say hello to me. I need to let out this tension I'm feeling.
"I do, and this one is a little more of an asshole than we're used to. How are things going with Hope?"
"They're not. She won't talk, she won't look at me and she had one forkful of breakfast this morning. A part of me thinks I did the wrong thing by bringing her to my place," I tell him. If there's anyone that would tell me I fucked up, it would be him.
“I agree that there’s something not right. Something happened to her, but it’s not your responsibility to look after her. I mean she was doing fine without your help.”
“Would you believe me if I said that when her eyes met mine for the shortest second, they told me—”
"Stop with the bullshit," Jackson cuts me off, and his tone has a little more harshness to it. "I don't know what's going on in your head, but listen to me, she looks more broken than you and I put together. So, if this is some fucked up game that you're playing and you want to break what is left of her then, let her go," he shouts down the phone to me.
“I can’t.” I almost whisper the words.
“Then you have to figure out what you’re doing. I’ll text you the place to meet.” He hangs up.
Leaning back in my chair, I think about Jackson's words; maybe he's right, and I do need to let her go before I do anything to hurt her more. What am I doing? She won't talk to me or look at me, but the one thing I know is when I'm around her the air is different. It's not the heavy black air I breathe every day. It's clean and calm and I want it to stay.
I hear the door to my office open, and I turn in my chair. "Hello, Mother." I get up and give her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for coming. Dad in a meeting?" I ask. Dad has back to back meetings for the next two days with some of the companies we own abroad.
“Yes and you wanted to see me, so I came this morning. You sounded different on the phone. Did you call that girl I was talking about?”
I can't help but smile at my mother's question. "No, and I don't plan on it either." I walk back over to my table to grab my cell. "I want to know what these medications are taken for." I hand over the phone, and she looks at me for a moment before looking at the screen.
I watch my mom flip through the images. “Without seeing the person, I can’t say one hundred percent, but it looks like they’re for Lupus. Medications to treat a rash, joints, build the immune system and pain medication as they get a lot of pain sometimes.” As she passes the phone back to me, I can already see the worry on her face.
“It’s not me, it’s a friend. Will they survive this? Are there other treatments that they can have?”
“Leo, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, I just want to know,” I tell her. I was already prepared for the questions, as my mother is one that needs to know everything I’m doing. “I just want to know if I can help them.”
“They can live a normal life if they keep taking their medication. Their immune system seems to be the main problem, so making sure they are warm in the winter will be a good start.”
“Thanks, I’ll let them know.” I give her a smile knowing that nothing really goes past her and this is not the last I’ll hear about it either.
“I’ll see you this weekend.” Mom comes around the table and gives me a kiss on the cheek then leaves.
I get started on my work, as I want to try and leave early before I have to meet Jackson.
***
I didn't finish as early as I wanted to, but I got a few things that I needed to be done. "John, has Jackson called you?" I ask.
“Yes, would you like to go now?” John opens the door for me. Giving him a nod, I get in the car.
I called Jackson earlier while I was at work to see if he could find Hope’s last name for me. He said he’ll let me know. I thought if I could find her last name I’d be one step closer to finding out why she’s so scared.
It's an hour drive to where Jackson wants us to meet up, and I told him I wanted it closer. It felt wrong leaving Hope home all day by herself, but I couldn't get out of work. Tomorrow I can work from home, so I don't have to leave her.
Pulling up to the warehouse, I have a quick look around before getting out of the car. I button my coat and head over to the entrance. The cold breeze hits me and I smile knowing that out of today, something good is about to happen.
Walking into the room, the man has his back to me, and I see Jackson getting things ready and not looking at the asshole. I walk straight past him.
Jackson looks over at me handing me the photo and knife. “Ready to have some fun?”
I walk to the chair placed in front of my guest. “Do you know this man?” I hold the picture in front of him, he looks at it and shakes his head. “Do you know who I am?” I ask.
“Never seen you before.” The man isn’t scared, he’s sitting in front of me like he’s going to live another day.
Bringing the chair closer to him and without letting him think about what my next move is, I take the knife and put it through his hand. He screams and tries to get out of the chair, but he's tied down tight.
I hold the picture up once more. “I’ll ask again, have you seen this man?”
He's panting and trying to talk, but he's not getting any words out. "I… I only… got… out… of … prison few … days ago," he finally lets out, and I look over at Jackson as I pull the knife out of his hand.
Jackson hands me a bottle, and I lean back into the chair and think about what I want to do with him. At the moment, my head is with Hope. I have questions about her. I want answers.
Jackso
n tells me, “End this and then we can go talk about what you want to talk about. Your mind is at home.” I have to agree with him, my head isn’t here, not even a little bit.
“I need to get some of this tension out of me,” I tell him. As much as he is right, I need to let off steam. Plus this bastard needs to know that if he hurts children, he will feel some of the pain too. Grabbing the knife off the table, I walk over to him and slowly starting cutting his chest down to his stomach. I smile as he screams and I say, “You know that this is how the kids screamed when you touched them, did you stop?” I ask.
He looks at me and tears escape his eyes. He's trying to say something to me, but the words are stuck, and I push the knife into his stomach very slowly.
“Please, I won’t—”
“Now, don’t lie. We both know that you’ll be out there looking for your next victim.” Walking back to the table, I pick up the salt. Now the fucker is going to scream.
Taking a handful of grains, I stand in front of him as he looks at my hand. I rub the salt into his chest, and he tries to kick and move away, but it's no use, he isn't going anywhere. He screams out every name he can at me and I stop for a moment just smiling at him. He won't last much longer, and I feel a bit better now, knowing that he felt pain before I killed him.
Grabbing the gun from the table next to me, I shoot the man between the eyes, watching his head fall down lifeless.
Jackson takes the gun from me and pulls another chair in front of me. “Talk to me.”
“Did you find out anything about her?” I ask. If anyone can find anything on Hope, he can. He’s always been able to uncover secrets.
“I was going to bring the file over to the house,” Jackson tells me. There is no good news to his tone, it’s too quiet. “I went back to her apartment to see what name she had put down on the lease because I couldn’t find any Hope in the system.”
