A Slave for You

Chapter 11

For PTX_Pentaholic99

Scott's P.O.V.

I was biting down on my nails nervously as the rain poured on the ground. I wanted to run after Mitch. I truly did. But I had to obey my father. If he knew that I was falling in love with a slave, he would kill me. Hell, I would die if Mitch found out. That would be too embarrassing. I've never been so interested in someone as much as I was with Mitch. He was so guarded. I wanted to chip away at the walls to see the real him. And I had started that wonderful smile to show and his small laugh. I couldn't wait to get him to laugh until he cried. My favorite part was when he would stare at me while I was on my phone.

"Excuse me?" Mitch's mom's voice interrupted my thoughts. I glared at her.

"Don't speak to me." I tried not to itch the bandage off my cheek. That whip hurt like hell. How could Mitch and the others deal with this? Mitch's mother cleared her throat properly.

"You bought my son."

"After forty-six camps." I was pulling at my lip to distract myself from yelling at her. "You're lucky he's a fighter. Otherwise he wouldn't be a virgin."

"Has he-"

"You know, you disgust me." Her hand went over her heart to show her offense by my words. "How could you give up your six year old son to a sex ring right after he lost his father?"

"I needed money."

"Your son is out there and he's afraid of storms." I tensed as the thunder shook the house. It rattled the foundation so much that a snow globe fell to the ground, shattering into tiny pieces. I looked out the window. Mitch was out there all only with this storm. "Shit." I ran down the stairs, bumping into Kirstie.

"Where are you...." Her voice was cut off by the wind howling as I opened the door. I was soaked to the bone. My feet were hitting the ground with loud smacks. I went the same direction Mitch went in.

"Mitch!" The clap of the thunder drowned my voice. "Mitch please! Answer me!" This wasn't good for him to be out in. He was sick and injured. I wiped a red substance that had collected on my arm as I pushed through the leaves. It was blood. I followed the trail. It led to the sound of whimpers.

"See the husband and the father, on financial tempest tossed,
Bankrupt, ruined, stagger homeward-" Heaven help us, all Is lost."
Quick that angel-heaven bless her-by our side in care and strife,
Soothing all the ills that greet us, man's best friend-a loving wife.
Baby's arms are thrown around him, "Daddy must not cry that way;
Mamma, papa's eyes are raining, sing, and it may go away." I recognized Mitch's loud singing as I got closer.

"Mitch?" He couldn't hear me. His eyes were tightly shut as his hands were clamped over his ears. Just like that night, he was shouting to keep the thunder away from his growing fear.

"Rain, rain, go away, come another washing day,
For the children want to play; don't stay any longer, rain.
Love dries his tear-dimmed eye, fortune once again he'll try,
Determined now to do or die-'tis life's story over again." The blood, being fueled by rain water, was dragging down his back. I scooped him into my arms, falling back against the tree.

"Mitch. Please."

"Please don't leave me Scott. I can't deal with this alone." Where his bare skin was touching mine, I could feel heat radiating. He was so sick. I groaned when I shakily got to my feet. His finger nails were digging into my skin with every sound or flash of light. The only way I knew to calm him down was stories or songs. So I tried my best.

"There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile,
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together in a crooked little house." He shivered as the wind blew on his unclothed chest. I walked in an almost run all the way back to the house and up to my room. Mitch hit my chest when I went to lay him down on the bed.

"I....dirty." He couldn't even form a proper sentence. He was trying not to fall asleep. I put him down on the mattress so he could lay on his stomach.

"I'll wash the sheets later. Stay here and don't move." I rushed into the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of alcohol with a cloth. Mitch was trying to get up when I came back in. "No. Lay back down." He gripped the sheets tightly as I washed his back. This was horrible. Some of the cuts were over lapping each other.

"Scott?" Despite my protesting, he sat up. "What is my mom doing here?"

"I didn't know she was your mom. She started seeing my dad a couple years ago. I'm sorry Mitch." He hid his face in my neck when a crash of thunder sound above us. He was burning up.

"Please don't leave me." He repeated.

"I'm not going to leave you darling." I tried to move him closer which caused me to have to grab closer to his butt. He coughed. "Fuck." I ran my fingers lightly across the back of his neck. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm sorry I ran away. And ruined your shirt." He tugged at my bloodied sleeve.

"I don't care about the fucking shirt Mitch. I care about how you're feeling."

"I'm cold." He murmured. I could feel his body trying to relax into sleep. I helped him lay down. He grabbed my sleeve. "Don't leave me. Please." His eyes were starting to close. I missed the color of his caramel brown eyes. I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Sorrow and care, frowns and gray hair; So smile, my baby bonnie.
Laugh, my baby, beauty; What will time do to ye?
Furrow your cheek, wrinkle your neck, so laugh, my baby, beauty.
Dance, my baby, deary; Mother will never be weary.
Frolic and play now while you may; So dance, my baby, deary." I was whispering the song quietly. His breathing evened out with the rising and falling of his chest. The thunder and lightening had become quiet.

I slid off the bed, trying to keep my movements from waking Mitch up. Once he did, I would have to put more medicine on his back. This sleeping would help him get that fever down. It really worried me that he thought it was cold. I closed my bedroom door. I heard Mitch cough in his sleep. He was so sick now. The infection plus being out in the cold rain. That wasn't good.

"Hey mom." I walked across the hallway into our library turned hospital room. My mom was hook up to monitors. She was stuck in a coma from how bad her illness was. I slid down against the wall by the door. I let my head fall on my knees that were brought to my chest. "I don't know what to do anymore. Mitch is so confusing. One minute he talks about caring about me and then the next he pushes me away. I need help." The monitor beeped. I groaned. This was pointless.