The Flyer

CHAPTER 27: Eight Years In The Making

CHAPTER 27: Eight Years In The Making

Kyle's POV

I lay in bed in silence. I knew she'd be coming soon and that no one was here to save me. I looked at the ceiling and wondered for the hundredth time why I hadn't run away yet.

Because she'll be heartbroken, my conscious chimed in, you can't leave.

The door creaked open and I didn't have to look to know it was her. The floor creaked slightly under her feet as she walked over to my bed. The light was off and without needing to see, I could feel her looking down at me. I knew she was...

She turned the light on and I looked away. She grabbed at my face and made me look at her, her dark hair and pale skin... No one could say that she wasn't beautiful...

She brought her lips to my face and began to kiss me. She kissed my lips- which I'd gotten used to- and I didn't react. She stopped and looked into my eyes. She was giving me a demand with her eyes alone.

She leaned in and began kissing me again, I had to kiss her back... The situation would take longer if I didn't so I tried.

"What the fuck?!", I woke up with a start.

A layer of perspiration was layered thickly on my forehead, my breathing was fast-paced and I was afraid.

Why the hell had memories mixed into my dreams? Even sleep had become unbearable lately.

The damn woman...

I tried to go back to sleep only to return to more memory-filled slumber. Memories of me at no older than ten.

"You know I love you, don't you, Honey?", she asked as she kissed my forehead.

I didn't say anything and just nodded.

She smiled. "Good because I do", she grabbed me in her hand and I flinched, "And you know how I hate to share you, right?"

I nodded quickly and hoped she'd stop touching me. Instead she squeezed and my lips formed a tight straight line.

"But we're in a tight situation and we need money... Your father is hardly ever home, as you already know, and when he is, he barely gives me enough to pay the rent and we can't survive off of that alone", she stopped grabbing me and I sighed in relief, "A friend of mine has offered to help, but he wants you to accept a job offer. And well, we need the money, Sweety, so I agreed to him for you", she brushed some of my hair away from my face, "You'll be with my friend for a while, okay?"

I refrained from jumping with joy, of showing any sign of relief or excitement. I couldn't let her know how happy I was to leave her, so all I did was nod.

"Good boy," she said and she kissed my lips.

***

Days later she drove me to her friend's house and throughout the ride she explained what I would be doing. The job offer was not what I'd expected at all. I would be doing the same thing I had to do at home. The same thing I had to endure. The only difference was that I didn't know the people and I was getting paid.

"Come here, boy", her friend called out once we arrived. He was a man of age thirty at most with black hair slicked back and blue eyes like ice.

I walked over to him and he looked me over from top to bottom as if searching for flaws.

"Strip," he said.