“What does he have on you?” My voice is low and dark, I’m not fucking around anymore. I need to know what I’m going to—gladly—walk into if it means that she’s free.
“Mind your own business, Ty. You’ve done it just fine for six years, don’t start worrying about me now,” she snaps at me, throwing those words at me likeIwas the one that left. LikeIwas the one who chose not to email.
“Excuse me?”
Roxie sighs roughly and I can hear the exhaustion, the need to push me away in that one noise. She’s annoyingly self-sacrificial apparently. While it’s something I appreciate and relate to, at this moment, it’s working against us.
“Ty,” she starts again, her voice catching in her throat and her body trembling slightly from standing so long. “There’s… I’ve had to do things to survive. I owe a debt and I don’t know if I’ll ever be free. Youdon’t want thatin your life.”
She’s speaking like she’s already got one foot out the door again and I lose my mind.
“Wait, Roxie.” I grab her hand, holding it in mine, the sparks that I felt six years ago are even stronger now. “You don’t get to decide for me. You shouldn’t have back then. I… I would’ve helped you in any way I could, and I still will. I stillwantto. All you have to do islet me.”
She pauses, her eyes trained onto our hands like she’s just as affected by the touch as I am.
Roxie looks up at me through her eyelashes slowly, like each inch she raises her eyes to look into mine is a fight.
“You don’t know what you’re asking. You don’t know what war you’re offering to take on.”
I step forward hesitantly, making sure the closeness is welcomed before I step fully into her space.
“Rox, I’ll be completely and totally honest with you. But I need you to be honest with me, okay?” My dark eyes meet hers in resolute honesty. She takes a small breath and nods. “Okay. Listen to me clearly when I say this; I want you here. I want whatever trouble you think you’re going to bring as long as it means that you’re free. I’ll take on whatever I need to, walk through whatever fire, knock out whoever I need to, to make sure you’re free to do what you want, not what you’re forced to do.”
“Ty,” Roxie gasps slightly, her breath hitching. “I don’t know what to tell you…”
“All of it, Roxie. Tell me all of it.”
“When I left, they didn’t have a family set up for me to go to, so I got to spend a night in the Social Services office using my bag as a pillow. The next day, my agent drove me all the way to Oaktown in silence. I knew something was up when she started apologizing and telling me it would only be a little while. That once I turned eighteen, I’d be out and she’d help me. That’s when I knew it would be fucking awful.”
I grit my teeth, steel myself to truly hear what she’s saying and what she’s going to tell.
“The Franks are…” she grimaces, her nose scrunching up in the process. “They’re pretty disgusting. You know Mickey, he’s awful. Can you imagine the people whomade him?”
Gross.
“Mickey runs the house, runs the show. They're basically zombies in front of their TV’s all day every day and don’t care what he does as long as the bills are paid and they have as much food as they want going down their gullet.” She sighs heavily and the frustration is palpable.
“Mickey Frank,” I grumble, my voice dark and dangerous. I can’t believe this fucker. I know the shit he’s into, the way The Underground is his biggest profiteer. He deals his drugs, makes his bets, usually has a prize fighter he overworks, he sells women, fakes, anything and everything to make a buck. He’s the wannabe thug who has more secrets and pull than he should have.
“Yeah, Mickey Frank.”
“You’re his new fighter.”
“I am his…possession, until I can pay him back.” Her face drops, hiding from my sight as she confesses.
“What do you owe him for?”
“The Franks, they let Mickey do everything, decide everything, run everything in the house as well. Mickey was—is—in charge of everything. When I eat, when I sleep, when I get water, when I got to go to school, all of it. And one day he saw me fighting some kid in the parking lot for taking the few dollars I had, and he realized I could actually fight. He tightened the belt, stopped feeding me almost all together.”
The way she speaks…it’s like this is still happening to her. I want to drive the four hours to Oaktown andkillhim. I want him to feel every inch of rage in my body and have him choke on it all. I want my knuckles to scream in pain as the break because I hit him so fucking hard.
Grinding my teeth, I force myself to shift in my seat so she doesn’t see how utterly murderous I’ve become.
“What happened?” I ask softly, not to push her to share, but to show her that I’m still here. I’m still sitting right here with her and am not going to judge.
“I…I stole what I needed from the corner store. Little things, here and there, just enough to get by. But one day, I was feeling more confident and I took something I shouldn’t have. I got cocky and didn’t check the camera placement. I didn’t think a watch would have an alarm on the back. But this one, it did.” She sighs, running a red, swollen hand through her hair. “They caught me, tucked me into a police cruiser pretty quickly and I… I just gave up. Anywhere was better than there, honestly. But just as I think I’m getting booked, Mickey walks in with a sick fucking grin on his face and tells me it’s time to go.”
My stomach drops and I shake my head.
