He left that day, after picking me up in a puddle of shower water and placing a blanket next to me with a bucket and a bag of food and water.

He was planning on keeping me, was my first thought.

And he never wants to let me go, was my second thought.

Then I thought of Connick, and how he could keep something from me, that was obvious. Something so big. If he would have told me I would have run for the hills, not his bed.

Today’s a new day, and the moment I wake with the blanket wrapped around me and a drink in my mouth, the door to my room is slammed open. I didn’t even hear someone approaching in the car, I must have been out of it. I turn my head, and I see a flash of blonde then I’m knocked down. Something heavy lands on me, trapping my cuffed hands to my mid-section. Crying out in pain, I open my eyes to see Nicole hovering over me with a bat in her hand, she swings and misses my head but barely. It makes her angry, so she brings it down again and it slams into in my midsection, then she sits on me. I lose breath in an instant, and my eyes start to water.

She takes advantage of it and slaps me hard across the face and then leans down screaming in my face, “You stupid bitch, he’s mine.”

Managing to breathe just the slightest again, I buck her with everything I have and knock her to the side. She falls, dropping the bat to the floor. Rolling to my side, I pick it up with both hands as she stands.

“I’m going to kill you, you bitch.” She runs at me, I swing the bat hard. It connects with her face and she drops to the floor. Blood starts pooling around her. So I kick her with my foot—she isn’t moving.

Hyperventilating, I think I’ve killed her until I see her finger twitch. Reaching down and dropping the bat, I pick the keys up from the floor and turn toward the door, getting ready to run, when my heart stops.

He’s back, looking not pleased at all.

“What did you do, Mil?” He looks down to his wife then back to me as he picks the bat up from the floor. I taste the blood from my split lip and my face burns, not to mention how sore my stomach is right now. I watch as he checks her pulse then looks to me. “Do you want to kill her, Mil? Is that what it will take?”

My eyes go wide. “Kill her?” I ask in disbelief.

He stands and walks toward me. “Will that make you happy? Make you see what I am for you? If I killed her?”

“No! No. Don’t kill her.” Backing up and away from him, he picks her up placing her over his shoulder. Her head is dripping blood, and I wonder if I have killed her. He doesn’t say anything as he walks out, locking the door. I wait and wait, waiting to hear the rev of an engine but nothing comes. Then the sounds of his shoes return as the door opens. Derrick now has no shirt on.

“I’d kill her for you, Mil.”

“I know.”

He steps forward, touching my hair, stroking it. “Do you see it yet?”

“See what?”

He leans down so he’s eye-level with me, his hand stopping on my head. “Our love.”

I choke on the bile that rises and refuse to tell him the truth.

This is all about escaping now, so that crazy bitch doesn’t come back.

“I do.”

He leans down to kiss me on my lips, and I turn my head to the side. I’ve failed on the first attempt. He knows it straight away because he pushes me back then storms to the door, clutching the door in his hand.

“You lied, Mil. Your act of love is a kiss. I know you, Mil, and you can’t kiss me. You will be punished.” Shutting the door, he leaves me stuck in the room again, with every part of my body screaming out in pain, even my lips.

* * *

I space my food out as much as I can. Derrick didn’t buy me much to begin with, so what little I have I am pacing. I don’t want the same stomach hunger pangs as I had last time. I also don’t want to be left weak and defenseless when he returns by eating it all at once.

How did she know I was here?

Touching my lip the next day I can feel it healing, but it stings every time I eat.

He wants my love as if I can just give it to him on a platter. Life and love don't work that way. I wish it did, then I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Making a plan in my head, I try to plot out what I can do with my life when I leave. When I can finally escape Derrick’s greasy palms.

Buy the house I want. One I’m happy to live in forever.

Find a job. Other than one at a bar. I need to leave that life.

Forgive her. Forgive my mother for never being a mother.

Move away. Far, far, away to start fresh, as the new me.

Tell Connick goodbye. In person, without sleeping with him.

I haven’t allowed myself to think too much of what Derrick said about Connick. I don’t want it to plague my thoughts because they will run rampant otherwise. I can cross that bridge when I see him next, and he tells me the truth in person. I start running through my plans again.

Remove myself from Derrick. As fast as possible and never look back.

Get that knife. So he can’t hang anything over my head ever again.

Laying my head down I think of the last time I was happy, truly happy, without a worry in the world. When was it? That’s sad, isn’t it? No childhood memories come to life, no teenage memories either. The only time I’ve smiled was with one man. The only one who made me feel safe, yet scared, was Connick. The man who could be the sole reason I’m sitting here in the first place.

Then I remember when he first trapped me, Derrick, in that room. The voice of the other person he was speaking to, it was Connick. My head hurts when I sit up too fast.

How did I not pick up on that straight away?

His voice is so distinctive, yet I didn’t know.

Was it he that let me out of that room and gave me the chance to escape in the first place?

His footsteps come back, pulling me out of my inner thoughts. Only this time I’m up sitting and waiting for that door to open. He looks at me surprised when he does. Holding the door with his hand he starts to talk.

“She’s told me to kill you, or she’s taking my child and leaving.”

A chill runs down my spine.

“Don’t worry, Mils. I’ll kill her before she can, then we’ll be happy.” He closes the door and leaves.

Did he come here for my approval?

Or to just tell me?

Why would he do either?

He thinks I’m as sick as he is, but I’m not. Nowhere near it. His mind needs serious help, at least I got the help I needed.

The days pass, and I wait for him to come back to tell me more.

He doesn’t.

My food runs out after four days, and on the fifth I’m starving yet again.

Then I hear it, footsteps that don’t sound like Derrick’s. I’ve gotten to know what his sound like after all this time.

How long has it been?

Two weeks?

By my count that’s how long, but I could be wrong.

The door is kicked open, and he is standing there.

My savior wrapped in black.

My devil who also sins.