Bijou

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I felt the sun on my face and the warmth on my skin before I opened my eyes. The sound of dishes clanking together and the scent of toast roused me awake. Blinking my eyes open, I rubbed them gently as they adjusted to the bright room.

Pushing up on my elbow, a crocheted blanket was laid over my body, covering me up to my shoulders. Brushing the thick strands of yarn, I pushed my fingertips into the small holes and tried to remember where I was.

I felt lost and confused, as long lost sleep created a haze over my thoughts. Images of the night before mingled with everything I held inside; all the feelings, all the emotions that I had folded up and put in the pocket of my mind had blown open, leaving me raw and tender.

Hate for the man who kept me as his pet.

Anger for the world that hadn't done a damn thing to save me.

Sadness for the loss of everything I had ever known.

And hope. . . That tiny root was still there, slowly pushing up the topsoil and searching for the sun's rays.

Finding a single strand of yarn, I twirled it around my finger and stared at the tip, watching it change from pale pink into deep red.

Val. . . His face popped into my head, the several shades his skin had turned twisted in my gut. I remembered it all.

The deep brown eyes that peered down on me, the thick black hair that framed his face and brushed his brows as he gave me his hand. I had been rescued, I had been freed from my box.

For that brief moment as sleep ended and consciousness swept in, I had thought it was all a dream. But it wasn't, I was away from that hell.

The stranger's home, I'm actually here. I wasn't dreaming.

Quiet voices went back and forth in the kitchen, two people talking and whispering to each other. Pushing up on my arm, I tried to see who it was.

“She's finally awake,” a small voice said, her tone low and curious. “Do you think she's hungry? She probably is, she's been sleeping forever.”

Forever?

How long have been I out?

“Wait here, I don't want you going near her.”

“But I just—”

“Wait here.” The man commanded, his feet thudding across the thin floor with determined steps before the small voice could say another word.

Looming over me, he had the same expression on his face that I remembered seeing before; dark, empty, and stern.

All the softness and concern I had seen when he opened that closet door had vanished. Thick lines creased his forehead, a deep frown plagued his lips as his eyes ran with thoughts, worries, questions; all of them understandable considering what had happened.

But none of that mattered to me. As far as I was concerned, I owed this man my life. Whatever thoughts and worries he had were warranted under the circumstances, I couldn't be angry at him for it.

I felt his body first as he got closer, his presence a weight on my chest and a twinge in my gut. Flicking my eyes away, I looked at his hands. They were large and thick, the skin rough, with a letter tattooed onto each knuckle.

The word wrath was on one hand, the word amity on the other. I had no clue what those two words meant to him, or if they meant anything at all.

Wriggling his fingers, his glare bore a hole into the top of my head. Looking back up, I gave him a half smile, and adjusted myself on the cushion. My eyes were open wide as I forced myself to say something, anything to break the silence that bristled my skin.

“Good morning,” I said, scooting up and leaning back against the arm of the couch.

His eyes hardened, lids thinning into tight slits as he stared down on me. Something had changed in that instant. The man didn't look at me with a mind full of questions, it was something different, something darker.

I knew exactly what that look meant, and I didn't like it. He was seeing me as a threat, as a possible enemy. But I was determined to change that, I would make sure he knew that I wasn't the one he had to fear.

I was just a woman, a woman who had been resurrected from the grave because of him.

“Are you hungry?”

“Did you do this?” Running my hands over the blanket, I traced the large circle pattern, following the purple lines.

“You looked cold.” Glancing over his shoulder, he checked on the young girl, then looked back down at me. “I've got scrambled eggs if you want some.”

My face scrunched up tight, heart flickering with old pain. Just hearing the word egg made me cringe. I wanted nothing to do with another egg again in my life, not after what happened. “No,” I said sternly, shaking my head. “No eggs, no eggs ever.”

Angling his head, his brows furrowed in thought. “I've got cereal, I'll get you some of that.” Walking back to the kitchen, he pulled out a bowl from the cupboard over the stove.

Relief flooded my body when he didn't ask me any questions about why I reacted the way I did over an offer for food. I didn't want to have to explain, talk, or relive anything I had been through in that house.

The less questions the better.

Small eyes peered at me through the window that opened into the living room from the kitchen. The young girl had big curls in her rich black hair that were wild and messy, untamed in every way.

She couldn't have been more than twelve years old, her curiosity a painted expression in her big brown eyes.

“Vicki, stop staring and turn around.”

“Who is she, Redd?”

Redd. . . My savior's name is Redd.

“I told you not to ask me that anymore.”

“Fine, I'll stop.” Pursing her small lips, her eyes squinted up tight. “Maybe she's a runaway mental patient from the insane asylum.”

“Seriously? What the hell have you been watching?” His lip curled up toward his nose, head tilting into his shoulder. “Just turn around and eat.”

“But—” she whined, frowning deep.

“Eat.” Pointing his spatula at the table, he gave her a stern look.

“Fine,” the young girl groaned, turning on her feet and dropping back into the chair. Lifting her hands to her ears, she plugged them up with a set of ear buds.

From where I was sitting, I could see her wild curls puffing up, rocking and flopping as she bobbed her head to the beat.

Walking back into the living room, he held out his arm with a bowl of cereal. “Here, eat up. It looks like you could use it.”

“So your name's Redd?” Reaching out, I gripped the bowl and placed it in my lap.

Our fingers gently brushed causing a wave of goosebumps to rush over my skin. Redd's eyes flickered, tongue softly licking his bottom lip. Something fired off between us, and he felt it too. But I couldn't place it, I couldn't label what had swept over me like a cold ocean breeze.

It was just there.

Taking in a deep breath, he jerked his hand away and ran it through his hair. “Yeah, that's what they call me.”

He started to walk away, but I stopped him with a question. “How long have I been here?”

Glancing over his shoulder, his lips thinned. “Two days.”

“Two days? Why did you let me sleep so long?”

Shrugging his shoulder, he kept his body turned towards the kitchen. “I figured you needed it.” Lengthening his leg, he started forward again.

I didn't want him to. For some reason I wanted him to stay near me, to be right beside me. My chest felt weighted and my fingers shook nervously. The thought of being alone, of him being too far away to help me if someone came crashing through the door, it ate me alive inside.

Fiddling with the blanket, I tried to find a way to keep him close. But I wasn't sure how to do it, so I blurted out the first question that came to my mind. “Aren't you going to ask me who I am?”

Redd looked down at the floor as he spoke, the profile of his face hard as his jaw crooked out to the side. “No, I'm not. I'm not sure yet if I want to know.” Taking quick strides, he reached the table and took a seat next to the young girl.

You're fine. You've been here for two days already and no one has come for you.

He's not that far away, he's right there.

Convincing myself that I was fine for the moment, I picked up the spoon and started eating the cereal.

Forks pinged off the ceramic plates, my metal spoon scraped the inside of the bowl greedily, and we all ate in silence.

The feel of real food on my tongue was euphoric. There was flavor and crunch, creamy milk and nutrients I hadn't been given for longer than I wanted to admit. I wasn't sure if Redd had any idea that all my meals up until then had barely been enough to feed a small rat.

Diablo would give me a slice of bread for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And if I was lucky, any leftovers he couldn't finish were fed to me like scraps to a dog. I hadn't had a real meal since that closet became my prison.

Slurping up the last droplets of milk, my body felt stronger and less shaky. I swear I could actually feel the cells absorbing the nutrients they craved, gorging themselves on lost vitamins.

“I'll take that,” Redd said as he stood by my side, hand out to retrieve the bowl.

“Let me clean up, it's the least I can do.”

“No, I got it.” Snatching the bowl from my fingers, he stalked back to the kitchen. Tapping the girl on the shoulder, she pulled out one speaker and looked up. “Vicki, it's time for you to go get ready for school.”

Pushing back from her seat, she came walking by me, flashing a wary eye. Darting her eyes away, she glanced at Redd over her shoulder and then headed down the hall.

She looked like she wanted to ask me something, and I knew what it was.

Who are you, why are you here?

When she was out of the area and I heard a door close, I let my eyes settle on the man in kitchen. He was moving from table to sink and back again, cleaning up breakfast plates and laying them in the basin.

The water hissed on and he let it run as he went back to the table and wiped it down. I watched him in awe. My eyes drawn to hard muscles and broad shoulders. He looked so rough when he came for me, and now he looked different.

His nose crinkled up as he squinted an eye, rubbing a stain off the table top. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Everything about him made my insides tear, leaving me feeling weak and raw.

There was no pause in his step. He cleaned up as if he had been doing it for years, not stopping to think of the next task at hand.

He looked domesticated for lack of a better word, not exactly what I would have pictured this man to be at all.

I had just seen him take another man's life and not flinch or bat an eye. He had challenged another and stood tall, his body never once weeping in uncertainty or fear.

Turning off the water, he grabbed a sweatshirt off the chair and pulled it over his head. The shirt he had on lifted, exposing the lower section of his stomach and the thin trickle of black hair that drew a line from his naval, disappearing into his jeans.

My gaze followed the path, lingering on the thick bulge in his pants. I felt my cheeks blush and my sex tingle as I outlined the shape of his member under the material.

Nope, no way. What the hell am I doing?

Swallowing hard, I forced my eyes to the floor and tried to gather my thoughts. His shoes stepped into my line of sight and I could sense the heat off his eyes.

Clearing my throat, I rubbed my cheeks and hoped he hadn't notice my tinted skin. “Who's that girl? Is she your daughter?” I asked, doing my best to not seem flustered.

Redd shot me a look, his glare striking me down like a lightening bolt. “Who she is, is none of your fucking business.”

Knitting my brows, I tilted my head. “It was just a question, small talk really. I'm not a fan of silence.”

“Well you can keep your small talk. My life is none of your business.” Tugging his keys from his pocket, he rolled them between his fingers and looked down the hall. “I don't want you talking to her, not a damn word. I have no fucking clue what the hell I got myself into. So don't say shit around her, understand?”

I couldn't blame him for wanting to keep her safe. I couldn't blame him for wanting to protect her.

She was too young to understand where I came from and how I got there. And Redd was right, he had gotten himself into a world of shit, piled from floor to ceiling.

There was no doubt in my mind that Diablo would come looking for me. He would send out his goons, he would search far and wide to find his treasured slave. Because in Diablo's eyes, my job was done when he said it was. . .

And there was only one way out for me—death.

When Redd showed up, I knew he wasn't a part of it. If he had any idea who the hell Diablo was, he would have left me right where he found me.

“What if she asks me a question? Am I supposed to tell her I can't talk to her?”

“That's exactly what you're going to say. And she's been told the same, I don't expect you to be here long enough for her to disobey me.”

I won't be here long. . . What does he plan to do with me?

I wanted to pick his brain about what he meant. But I wasn't ready to hear whatever truth he had already fashioned into a noose for me. Right then the rope was loose, dangling without force around my neck.

And for now, I was okay with that.

“What did you tell her about me?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does matter. Shouldn't we have the same story at least?”

“It won't matter because neither one of you are going to say a goddamn word to each other.” Hanging his head, his arms went stiff. “But if you must know, I told her I saw you on the side of the road and it was too cold for you to sleep outside.”

“That's it?”

“That's it. She doesn't need to know the rest, not one word of it.”

Fiddling with my fingers, I dug the pad of my index finger into the nail on my thumb. “So she thinks I'm some homeless person?”

Releasing a heavy breath, he rolled his eyes. “She thinks what I want her to think. And that's how I'm keeping it. If you so much as say one word to her—”

Holding up my hand, I nodded. “I got it, I won't.”

Obviously. Does he really think I'm going to fill that young girl's head with stories of torture and abuse?

She was just a kid, innocent and pure. If she was anything like my sister, she still believed in magic and unicorns. I wouldn't taint her fragile mind with nightmares of all the evil this earth really held.

Fuck, I wish someone had warned me better.

Pulling my knees up into my chest, I snuggled into the blanket. “I have family I need to call, can I use your phone.”

Redd didn't answer, continuing to stare off at nothing in silence. Hard hands slammed into his pockets, heavy breaths replaced his voice as he dismissed my question like I hadn't just asked him something.

“You can't just ignore me, I need to use your phone, people are looking for me.” Sitting up straight, I clutched the blanket in my hands.

I had to call my father, I needed to let him know I was alive. Was that too much to ask for?

Soft feet tapped down the hall and into the living room, her eyes still curious, filled with wonder. Dropping her backpack to the floor, she glanced at me quickly, then pulled her eyes away. “I'm all set.” Lifting up the hood on her purple jacket, she pulled it over her head, allowing the furry ring to frame her round face.

“Let's go.” Redd flipped his fingers at Vicki, hurrying her along.

“Wait, where are you going?”

Looking over his shoulder, he narrowed his gaze. “I'll be back soon, then we can talk.”

The girl strolled outside into the bright sun, slinging her backpack over her arm. Redd followed her out, closing the door behind him.

And just like that, I was alone. No locked door holding me in, no gun pointed in my face or fist in my gut to tame me.

I wanted to embrace the solitude of not having someone looming over me, waiting for me to screw something up just so they could inflict a punishment. . .

But that's not what I felt. I felt nervous and unsure, anxiously flicking my eyes in every direction.

Rubbing my knees, I looked around the room, listening to the quiet noises of the house. A rumble rattled the walls and I jumped, feverishly scanning every nook and dark corner. I kept waiting for someone to pop out of nowhere or come barreling through the front door in a rage.

I don't like this. I'm too vulnerable.

Standing quickly, I rushed into the kitchen and started looking for a weapon. Pulling open drawer after drawer, I finally found a small plastic jug filled with steak knives, hidden in the cupboard over the sink.

Prowling back into the living room, I held the knife out, ready to jam it into the jugular of an intruder. I was ready to fight, no one was going to take me back to that place, not one hand would touch me and drag me back to Diablo.

I would die before going back there.

A warm wave of heat spilled out from the vent beneath my feet, fluttering up my calves, and settling my nerves.

It's just the heater.

Dropping to my haunches, I brushed my fingers through the hot air. I wasn't sure what the hell I was going to do with myself. Every noise triggered a fear, every sudden sound made my heart freeze and my head hurt.

Diablo had screwed with my brain for so long, I didn't know if I'd ever be able to adjust to life outside the walls he held me in. I felt tainted, damaged, fractured so deep that healing could be impossible.

What will I do if I can never stop looking over my shoulder?

What if I never feel the same again? Did I lose who I was, despite my efforts to protect everything I had?

I need to talk to my dad.

I knew talking to him would give me answers, it would help me to understand the why. I craved the answers more than anything. My father was the key to learning the truth.

Shit! My father could be in danger now!

Storming to the window, I looked at the driveway. Redd's car was gone, and that sight sparked a different jitter inside me. Throwing the door open, I ran through the tall grass in the front yard, trying to figure out where the hell I was exactly.

I was hoping to see another house, a business, a fucking highway. Anything that could bring me one step closer to my father. Raking my fingers through my hair, I pulled it out of my eyes as a gust of wind tried to blow me off my feet.

Teetering on my heels, I dug my toes into the ground and felt the world spin around me. My chest began to ache and my stomach felt like someone had just roundhouse kicked me.

The road was desolate, not a neighbor or house in sight. There was nothing but trees and fields, spanning as far as I could see.

I was stuck and alone, just like I had been for all this time.

My eyes welled up with lost tears, tears I had held in, tears I had refused to cry. Wiping them away, I sucked in a cold breath and let it out slowly.

I couldn't let my emotions take charge, not yet, not now. Right then there was only one thing I needed to do, I needed to warn my father.

That would be the first place Diablo would go to look for me. If my father truly was the reason I was held captive, then it made perfect sense.

I need a phone, I have to warn him now!

Darting back inside, I tore apart the living room, searching for a line to the outside world. But everywhere I turned, I felt like all I hit was a roadblock.

There was nothing, only empty sockets where a phone should be. Stalking down the hall, I was determined to check every inch of the trailer.

For over two years my father hadn't heard my voice, he had no clue if I was alive or dead. And if I didn't call him now, I knew in my heart I might never have the chance again.

Heavy tears threatened to consume as I went down the hall. It hurt to think that my father could die because of me, that he might not be alive long enough for me to see him, hug him, and tell him I loved him.

Because despite what I had been told, I still loved my father, even if something he did had put me in that man's hands.

Focus, Bijou, find a phone.

There had to be one someplace, and I wasn't about to give up. I had kept breathing, just for this moment. To be able to reach out and call my family, to live and get my life back, this was why I had held on for so long.

I wasn't going to let Diablo scare me another second. I was no longer his to control.

Stopping outside the first closed door, I stood for a moment and touched the wood. It was like I was staring at my world from the outside. Flashes of the door that held me in wreaked havoc on my mind, making my hand shake and tremble.

No! He doesn't own you!

That world is over, that life isn't going to get you again.

Holding the handle, I steadied my grip and turned the knob, pushing it open slightly. Poking my head inside, the walls were pink, with a mosaic of coloring book images taped all around. A small bed was pressed up against the far wall, directly under the window, and the mattress was covered in stuffed animals and crumpled blankets.

This is Vicki's room.

Taking a small step in, I touched the trim of her dresser and followed the thick seam. Tiny trinkets were strewn on top, not set up in any particular order.

A fairy jewelry box, a pile of beaded necklaces, and a purple hairbrush littered the surface. The drawers were partially opened with pieces of clothing sticking out, preventing them from closing all the way. It was your typical girl's room.

Looking around, I spotted another empty phone socket, and grumbled to myself as I walked towards her bed.

Shit. Come on, there has to be a phone someplace in this house.

Picking up a white stuffed bunny off the mattress, I spun it in my hands, running my thumb over the glassy eyes. I couldn't help but think of my family. Vicki's room reminded me a lot of my sister's.

My sister Lila loved the color pink, and she had this thing for those felt colored pictures, the ones you colored in yourself with the markers that came attached. She drove my parents crazy with them, making them buy her frames for each one so she could hang them in her room.

That shit used to annoy me, but now, now I wished I could hug her and tell her how beautiful they all were. My heart began to hurt, wishing and craving for any form of contact with them.

Dropping the rabbit, I pressed on, walking further down the hall. I'll see them again soon, I just need to keep going.

There was a bathroom on the left, with a mint green sink, covered in streaks of toothpaste. The floor was slightly warped, dipping down in the center. A single closet was in the middle of the hallway, stacked with typical items you would expect to find; broom, mop, bucket, vacuum, cleaning supplies. . . No people, not like Diablo's closet.

One more closed door was at the end of the hall. Reaching it, I opened it up and knew I had found Redd's room. It was bare, just a bed, dresser, and nightstand. No pictures on the walls, no curtains.

Walking inside, I dragged my hand down the comforter covering his bed and followed it around to the other side. I knew if there was a phone anywhere inside this house, it would be in here.

Standing at his dresser, I pulled open the center drawer and lifted out the shirt on top. Holding it to my face, I inhaled a deep breath. I didn't know why I felt the urge to smell his clothes, but I did.

Maybe it was my senses trying to regain lost memories of normalcy, or maybe it was the fact that this man had risked his life to get me out. Either way, I breathed him in. I let his scent mask my pain, I let the floral accents and manly musk remind me that I no longer had a master.

Pushing the air out my lungs, I turned my head towards the nightstand. There was a small stack of books on the lower shelf, a digital clock that beat my eyes with red numbers on the top, and a small notebook resting beside it.

Folding up the shirt, I placed it back inside, smoothing it out, and closing the drawer. Walking over the shag carpeting, I allowed my toes to embrace the soft strands as they tickled the bottom of my feet.

It felt good to have something so delicate to walk on. My bare feet hadn't met anything but cold concrete and icy marble.

Bending down, I pulled out a thick black book. The binding was worn down and there were small rips in the leather cover. Turning it over, the gold script was bold and shining.

The Bible. . .

Arching a brow, I strummed through the pages. It had been ages since I read the bible. And for a long time I refused to think that a higher power even existed. Because if it did exist, if there truly was someone up there watching over us. . . Where had he been?

Where was he when I needed him? My prayers had gone unanswered, my screams and pleas had been left dangling in the air, untouched.

How do you believe, when the hands that supposedly created you, also molded the monster that took you?

But I was saved. . . That has to mean something.

Putting the book back in the exact spot I found it, the thin edge of something white on the wall caught my eye. Dropping to my knees, I pulled the small table out across the carpet and my breath caught in the back of my throat.

Yes! I knew it.

A black cord was plugged into the socket, laying flat against the seam of the wall. Pinching it between my fingertips, I crawled across the carpet and followed the trail. The cord went behind his dresser, coming out on the other side. Tugging it free, I pulled the last few inches through my fingers, and my body went numb.

He didn't. . .

No, he definitely did.

Holding up the cord, the end that should have had a phone was bare. There was nothing on the other end, but deep down I knew there had been a phone there.

He fucking took it.

Redd took the damn phone so I couldn't use it!

My heart raced inside my chest, spitting with black fire. I was back in that hell, warped into a different version of what I had been living. Only this time my captor fed me, he kept me warm, he gave me freedom to move around. . . But he stole my connection to the outside world, leaving me alone in a wasteland of trees.

Redd didn't need walls to keep me in, not when he had nature to do it for him.

Slinking down onto my ass, I leaned against the box spring, tears teetering on the edge of my lids.

I thought he had saved me.

I thought he had swooped in and whisked me away.

But the searing pain in my gut told me something different. . .

Maybe I was wrong.