“That’s not going to happen,” I snapped.
“Yes, it will, and do you want to know why?”
Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why. “Why?” I asked, ignoring my gut for the millionth time.
“Because I’m coming for you, Lake.” His voice lowered, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Are you ready for me?”
No. I wasn’t even close to being ready for him. I knew what he would come for when he got out. Keiran was a vengeful person and didn’t like losing control. I took that away from him by turning him in. I swallowed down the familiar stirrings of fear and told myself if he came after me again, this time would be different.
I was different.
“Hey, Keiran?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t drop the soap.”
Chapter Four
Keiran
“Don’t drop the soap.” The click of the line told me she had hung up, but all I heard was, “Get fucked,” which was exactly what I knew she meant.
My only question was when did she grow a pair of balls? Part of me was turned on, and part of me was mad as fuck. I was losing control.
That wasn’t allowed to happen.
But I knew, once I got out of here, I would scare her back into submission. I just had to figure out how I would get out of here. Between my uncle and Dash’s parents, I had the best lawyers working my case. The fuckers wearing the big wigs denied my bail so I was stuck here until trial…
Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I needed to get out of here. I needed to feed my addiction. At times like these, I wondered who controlled who and that was usually when I turned especially sadistic and went full force at her. In the past, she would always get this look in her eyes that begged for me to tell her what she had done wrong.
How did I tell her it was because of who she was and not what she had done? I had wanted to tell her many times, but what was the point? Making her wonder and worry was part of the thrill. I smiled when I thought about the day it all began…
* * *
TEN YEARS AGO
I liked to sweat.
No one ever really wanted to sweat because it made you messy and it made you smell. I liked to sweat because it was raw and because I couldn’t cry. Sweating was as good as I could give. It’s how I shed my anger and my feelings. Years later, I would learn it was pent-up aggression that I needed to release, and pushing past my limits was the way to do it, so I started with basketball. I discovered it a year ago when I stumbled upon some of the runners watching a game, and I was instantly drawn to it. Of course, I wasn’t ever given the chance to play. Not until much time had passed and my already messed up world spun on its axis, toppling me over in the process.
Who would have thought, not even the turn of events that brought me here would top the day the world really fucked me over.
It was the song.
That damn song.
And the voice that followed.
Today was the day I would meet my obsession.
No amount of training could have prepared me for this. I was so very fucked. Of course, I was only eight, so I wasn’t supposed to know the meaning of that word, but I did because I wasn’t a normal eight-year-old.
I am a slave.
Was a slave, I corrected. The jobs were gone, the men were gone, and she was gone. And I was here. Watching the little blonde bundle of happiness burst from the small yellow car, and frantically, dancing around without a care in the world or notice of anyone watching, including me.
Lily.
Wait… No. Lily is dead. I killed her.
I peered closer and realized it wasn’t Lily, but I wasn’t completely convinced. It had to be Lily.
How did she get here? And most importantly… why is she here?
Just then, she turned around, giving me a brief glimpse of her face before spinning around again, this time throwing her hands in the air.
Not Lily.
Then who?
The song cut off abruptly when an older lady, who didn’t look all that old, shut off the engine and stepped out of the car. She took the girl by her hand and led her toward the burger joint. I saw the glimpse of sadness flood the girl’s face as she was being led inside. Not long after, I would learn the name of the song and how it fit her so perfectly.
When the door closed behind them, I got the uncontrollable urge to jump from my bike and follow. I didn’t understand the need to see more of her, but I needed to meet the girl who looked so much like Lily.
Who is she? I swung my leg over my bike and stepped forward to follow.
“Hey, Keiran, wait up!”
I released an audible groan at the annoying kid who wouldn’t stop following me around. It just so happened to be we lived together too, and we were cousins.
He raced forward with a smile, but when he saw the look on my face, he came to a dead halt in his tracks, his smile dropping and replaced with a worried look. I started to smile as I watched him shift his feet and look away. Instead of coming closer, he then looked as if he would bolt in the other direction. Served him right. I needed to see the girl, but now I had to deal with him.
“What?” I yelled when he continued to stare.
“Nothing. I—I wanted to come play with you. I saw you take off with your ball. Do you think you can teach me how to play?”
“Why?” He shrugged his trembling shoulders, and I almost took pity on him. Almost. “Go away then. I don’t want to play with you. Why don’t you go draw or something?” He was always drawing and coloring, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was asking me to play with him. I don’t play.
“Yes, it will, and do you want to know why?”
Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why. “Why?” I asked, ignoring my gut for the millionth time.
“Because I’m coming for you, Lake.” His voice lowered, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Are you ready for me?”
No. I wasn’t even close to being ready for him. I knew what he would come for when he got out. Keiran was a vengeful person and didn’t like losing control. I took that away from him by turning him in. I swallowed down the familiar stirrings of fear and told myself if he came after me again, this time would be different.
I was different.
“Hey, Keiran?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t drop the soap.”
Chapter Four
Keiran
“Don’t drop the soap.” The click of the line told me she had hung up, but all I heard was, “Get fucked,” which was exactly what I knew she meant.
My only question was when did she grow a pair of balls? Part of me was turned on, and part of me was mad as fuck. I was losing control.
That wasn’t allowed to happen.
But I knew, once I got out of here, I would scare her back into submission. I just had to figure out how I would get out of here. Between my uncle and Dash’s parents, I had the best lawyers working my case. The fuckers wearing the big wigs denied my bail so I was stuck here until trial…
Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I needed to get out of here. I needed to feed my addiction. At times like these, I wondered who controlled who and that was usually when I turned especially sadistic and went full force at her. In the past, she would always get this look in her eyes that begged for me to tell her what she had done wrong.
How did I tell her it was because of who she was and not what she had done? I had wanted to tell her many times, but what was the point? Making her wonder and worry was part of the thrill. I smiled when I thought about the day it all began…
* * *
TEN YEARS AGO
I liked to sweat.
No one ever really wanted to sweat because it made you messy and it made you smell. I liked to sweat because it was raw and because I couldn’t cry. Sweating was as good as I could give. It’s how I shed my anger and my feelings. Years later, I would learn it was pent-up aggression that I needed to release, and pushing past my limits was the way to do it, so I started with basketball. I discovered it a year ago when I stumbled upon some of the runners watching a game, and I was instantly drawn to it. Of course, I wasn’t ever given the chance to play. Not until much time had passed and my already messed up world spun on its axis, toppling me over in the process.
Who would have thought, not even the turn of events that brought me here would top the day the world really fucked me over.
It was the song.
That damn song.
And the voice that followed.
Today was the day I would meet my obsession.
No amount of training could have prepared me for this. I was so very fucked. Of course, I was only eight, so I wasn’t supposed to know the meaning of that word, but I did because I wasn’t a normal eight-year-old.
I am a slave.
Was a slave, I corrected. The jobs were gone, the men were gone, and she was gone. And I was here. Watching the little blonde bundle of happiness burst from the small yellow car, and frantically, dancing around without a care in the world or notice of anyone watching, including me.
Lily.
Wait… No. Lily is dead. I killed her.
I peered closer and realized it wasn’t Lily, but I wasn’t completely convinced. It had to be Lily.
How did she get here? And most importantly… why is she here?
Just then, she turned around, giving me a brief glimpse of her face before spinning around again, this time throwing her hands in the air.
Not Lily.
Then who?
The song cut off abruptly when an older lady, who didn’t look all that old, shut off the engine and stepped out of the car. She took the girl by her hand and led her toward the burger joint. I saw the glimpse of sadness flood the girl’s face as she was being led inside. Not long after, I would learn the name of the song and how it fit her so perfectly.
When the door closed behind them, I got the uncontrollable urge to jump from my bike and follow. I didn’t understand the need to see more of her, but I needed to meet the girl who looked so much like Lily.
Who is she? I swung my leg over my bike and stepped forward to follow.
“Hey, Keiran, wait up!”
I released an audible groan at the annoying kid who wouldn’t stop following me around. It just so happened to be we lived together too, and we were cousins.
He raced forward with a smile, but when he saw the look on my face, he came to a dead halt in his tracks, his smile dropping and replaced with a worried look. I started to smile as I watched him shift his feet and look away. Instead of coming closer, he then looked as if he would bolt in the other direction. Served him right. I needed to see the girl, but now I had to deal with him.
“What?” I yelled when he continued to stare.
“Nothing. I—I wanted to come play with you. I saw you take off with your ball. Do you think you can teach me how to play?”
“Why?” He shrugged his trembling shoulders, and I almost took pity on him. Almost. “Go away then. I don’t want to play with you. Why don’t you go draw or something?” He was always drawing and coloring, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was asking me to play with him. I don’t play.
