My Boss

Stay Away

As I quiver on the bed, Goldman examines his wound in front of me. I quietly watch him pull back his business shirt, revealing a small, bleeding gash. He painfully hisses when the scar is touched.

" You better be glad I'm not going to need stitches." The shirt is eventually removed. He rocks his shoulder up and down, testing to see if the muscle still works. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The question makes me believe I'm acting abnormal. As he said in the car, my boss knows men who would die to be in my shoes.

"How do you even manage stabbing me with a damn knife," his eyes appear as they did earlier. Rage has darkened them, making Goldman seem unrecognizable. "I'm going to make you regret ever raising your hand to me! See, you're going to do everything I tell you to do from now on, aren't you?"

"Please, ice daddy," I beg, hoping somehow this is enough. Goldman continues his advance. In response, I hurry to scoot away, quickly moving toward the headboard. I realize stabbing him was a huge risk. In some way, it had to have been the most courageous thing I've done in my life. And maybe that's why it didn't work―because it was the first time I ever had to defend myself. And now I'm going to pay for my actions―and pay dearly.

"Oh no, that won't work this time. No amount of please ice daddy will calm my nerves. You have to be shown your place in this relationship because apparently you think you run the show."

"Ice daddy," I shake my head, "don't."

Goldman clenches my throat. My head is smashed against the headboard. As I try to swallow, I can feel my adam's apple bobbing against his palm. My arms and legs twitch as I struggle to take a breath.

"Do you feel how close you are to dying?" his voice echoes through my mind. The wavering of legs and arms signal I can't take much more.

"I know you can feel it. From now on, Scott, you remember this moment. Remember it. You're going to remember, aren't you?"

I can't reply but I understand I'm not meant to answer. If I was, he wouldn't be choking me. After a few more seconds, I'm finally freed. While I desperately pant for air, Goldman snatches my shirt, popping the buttons off. He forces it open, revealing flushed skin. To my horror, his hand grabs the knife. I inch away from the blade but Goldman holds me down against the mattress.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."

The extent of his evil seems limitless. I don't know how much further he'll push me. How much further will he hurt me? Even worse, I fear what Goldman is going to do to my mom.

"Ice daddy, I didn't mean it," I try to lessen his rage, " I was scared. I was afraid you'd go back on your promise. You told me you wouldn't hurt me."

The blade is brought to my neck. Goldman comes closer. " While you were getting dressed on the bed, did I hurt you?"

"No," he catches my lie.

"And yet you threw fucking shoes at me and then tried to stab me. I'm keeping my promise to you, Scott. It's you who has the problem."

"I'm sorry," I say this but I don't mean it.

"Yeah, you're going to be really sorry," the sharp end of the knife slides down my chest. Every muscle tightens. I quiver beneath his weight. "Besides, I can't have you stabbing me nor your dear old mother calling. So before we head out, you're going to put your mom at ease. Because if she goes to the police or does any investigating, I'm going to have her killed. That's right, pretty boy, I'll kill your fucking mom just so that I can keep you here with me."