I caught Zadie a second before she hit the ground. When my arms clasped around her, she squealed a tortured, strangled sound that barely made it out of her throat.
“No,” she moaned. Her hands made weak claws, hitting and scratching at my chest with kitten-like strength. Her entire body was racked with tremors.
“Zadie, come on, mama. You’re okay.” I held her tight against my chest, instinct telling me that was what she needed, even though I had no clue what had her so fucking spooked.
A keening noise that shot me straight through my sternum came from her, and she kept fighting, even as her hits grew weaker.
“Listen to me.” I threaded my fingers in the back of her hair. “Fucking listen. I’m not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
“No, no, no, no. Please no.” Her voice was tiny and pleading.
Jesus Christ, had I done this to her? I knew I’d fucked up, but was this the result?
“You want me to let you go? Tell me if you want me to let you go.”
“No,” she cried, clinging to me instead of fighting me.
“Okay.” I lowered my forehead to the top of her head and squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay, Zadie. I need you to breathe. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. You’re as safe as can be. We’re in a closet in the library. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. Breathe for me. Nice and slow.”
I kept going, repeating myself. Her shallow pants had gone deeper, slowing incrementally. Her hands had opened, sliding to clasp around my neck. I no longer had to hold up her entire weight. She still leaned on me, and I liked that, so I wanted her to keep doing it. Quivers ran through her muscles. Her face was shoved against my chest. But she was calming and letting me help her get there.
“You know where you are?” I asked softly.
She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Closet, in the library.”
“You know who I am?”
“Amir.”
“Are you safe?”
She made a choking sound. “I don’t know.”
“You’re safe.” My fingers slid through the back of her hair in a rhythmic motion. “Am I going to hurt you?”
“I—I don’t know.”
I shook my head and rubbed my lips on her crown. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one is.”
“You’re not going to hurt me,” she repeated.
“That’s right. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is.”
“You said that,” she whispered.
“I need you to believe it. Do you believe it?”
“I believe it right now.”
The waver in her answer brought me to a stop. I grew still as I turned it over in my mind. She either believed I was going to hurt her or someone else was. Quite possibly both.
“What were you running from? What had you so spooked?”
She shook her head and whimpered, “He’s out there.”
“Who? Someone bothering you? You tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
“You can’t.”
“Zadie.” I gripped her jaw and pushed her head back. In the dark, I could barely make out the shape of her face, but if I knew her—and I fucking did—her puffy bottom lip was poking out in a pout. “I’ll give you that since you don’t know the things I’ve done and will do to keep those I consider mine safe.”
“And I’m yours?”
“You know you are.”
“A pet.” Her chin trembled in my hold. I pressed my thumb to the center of it, holding her like that until she stopped shaking.
“A pet I care to keep in one piece and safe.” Bending, I ghosted my lips over hers, then whispered a vow into her mouth. “You lay it on me, I’ll do what I need to do so I don’t ever find you hiding in a supply closet again, shaking like a fucking leaf because you’re so scared.”
She didn’t answer. Not that question at least.
“Why are you here, Amir?”
“Finding you. You didn’t show. Did you forget about our deal?”
A heavy sigh deflated her. “I didn’t hear from you. I didn’t think you wanted me there.”
“Julien and Marco are starved. They miss you.”
“You didn’t tell me to come.”
My thumb stroked the jut of her chin. “I didn’t tell you not to, which means I wanted your pretty ass at my house, cooking in my kitchen. Do you know how angry I was when four o’clock came and went and my pet didn’t appear?”
“No, I don’t.”
“So angry, Zadie. I had to come find you.”
“I wasn’t hiding. I mean, I wasn’t then.”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re hiding now?”
A tremor racked her body, and even though she was already in my arms, she stumbled against me. “I need to go home.”
“I’ll take you, but you’re not leaving this closet until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
She slid her hands down from my neck to my chest and tried to shove me back. It did no good. “Please, let me go. I don’t want to do this.”
“Start talking and I’ll let you go.”
“Please. I just need to be in my room. I need to go.”
If I took her to her room, she’d be locked away and I’d never get my answers. Aside from that, I had a visceral need to keep her close until I made sure she was okay and I found a way to kill the thing that had made her this afraid.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Zadie. We’re going to leave this fucking closet, grab your things, and go to my car. Once we’re in there, locked and secure, you’re going to tell me everything, then I’ll decide if I want to drive you home or take you back to my place so you can do all the chores you’ve been slacking on this week.”
She gasped, then a beat later, slapped my chest. “I haven’t been slacking. You told me not too—”
I covered her mouth with my hand. “I’m fucking with you. Needed to see that spine of steel. It’s still there—that’s how I know you’re going to be all right.”
With little protest, Zadie allowed me to lead her out of the closet. She stuck close to me, gripping the back of my shirt while I had an arm circling her shoulders. We found her bag abandoned in one of the aisles I’d followed her down, a folded piece of paper beside it. Once she had both, we made our way out of the library to the parking lot behind it. The whole time, Zadie’s body shook, and her head swiveled right and left, checking her surroundings.
Some fucking punk had scared her tonight. They obviously had no idea who she belonged to. This would not stand.
In my car, Zadie hugged her bag to her chest and clutched the folded paper in her hand. I blasted the heat in order to warm her up and smooth out her trembling muscles.
“What’s on the paper?” The way she was holding it, I figured it had to do with what was going on.
“A poem,” she croaked.
I stilled. “A poem someone wrote for you?”
“Yes. He left it for me when I left my desk for a few minutes.”
I plucked the paper from her hand and unfolded it. It took me a second to wrap my head around what I was reading, then it made me equal parts amused and pissed off.
I hit the paper against my open palm. “Do you know what this is?”
“Bad poetry?”
I snorted a laugh. “If you consider Biggie Smalls a bad poet, then yeah.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t follow.”
“Whoever wrote this must be a fan of nineties’ rap. They reworded Notorious B.I.G.’s song, “Hypnotize.” It’s fucking awful, but no doubt that’s what they were going for. You have no idea who left this?”
Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “I thought I knew, but now, I’m not so sure.”
Leaning closer, I gripped her chin, tilting her face back and forth. “This isn’t the first.”
She shook her head. “No. But tonight…he was there. I heard him calling my name. That was when I ran away.”
“You said you thought you knew who left it. Tell me who.”
“Um…” she shoved a hand into the side of her hair, “I don’t know if you remember when I told you I had a stalker. I’m sure you don’t, but—”
“How could I forget that?” At that moment, I’d wanted to bend time, travel back to before Zadie met that kid and put a bullet in his brain so none of the bullshit he pulled on her had ever happened.
“Dragon slayer,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” Bracing my elbow on the console, I got in her face. “Are you saying he’s here? He’s leaving you bad poetry and not back in Oregon…I don’t know, chopping wood and shit?”
“I thought so.” She rubbed her lips together. “I’ve gotten a few. They’re all kind of innocuous. I wouldn’t have thought much about them, except Drew used to leave me poems all the time. His were typed on special homemade paper, though. And they were…well, they were sick but well written.”
“You’re shitting me.”
Zadie’s eyes widened with alarm. Given she’d been having a panic attack less than an hour ago, I probably should have gone easier on her, but she drove me out of my goddamn mind.
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not.” Her voice quivered.
“This guy has left you multiple notes and you haven’t told me?”
“Why would I tell you?”
She asked the question with so much sincerity, I knew she didn’t get it. She didn’t understand what being mine meant. Her situation was different, since it was a punishment, but that didn’t make her any less mine.
“Are you my pet?” I asked in a calm, steady tone.
“Yes.” No hesitation. At least she got that.
“Do I own you?”
“I don’t—um…” There was the hesitation I’d been looking for.
“Zadie…” I tugged on her chin, drawing her face alongside mine so I could speak low in her ear. “Do I own you for now?”
She finally nodded.
“Then you’ll always tell me when someone or something threatens your safety.” With her chin in my hand, I forced another nod out of her.
“Well…” she tucked her hair behind her ear even though it was already there, “I’m scared of you, so—”
“You should be. I’m not a good man. But you still have to come to me with shit like this. I’m bad, Zadie, but I’ll be your biggest bad when it comes to anything that threatens you. What will I do with a broken pet?” I clicked my tongue on my teeth. “No, I need my pretty little pet whole.”
Her soft jaw tightened. Zadie was sweet, kind, and she went along with the law I laid down without much argument, but under her surface, she was bucking against me. She held it in, unlike the night in her dorm room when she told me she’d never be with me, that sleeping with me was akin to losing her mind. And hell, she’d been right, but I’d wanted it to happen anyway. The image of her soft and pliant and writhing beneath me was forever burned into memory. Even now, when I was pissed at her for a multitude of reasons, I was picturing her like that, and my dick thought that was reason enough to punch at my zipper. It didn’t help she smelled like berries in the rain and her angry panting reminded me too much of the sounds of her coming.
“He’s left a few notes. I don’t know if it’s Drew or someone else. My lawyer in Oregon said the restraining order still stands. She’s also checking in with the officer who handled my case. I haven’t heard back from her yet, but I’m…” She exhaled a ragged breath.
“Fucking terrified?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “I don’t know if I want it to be him or someone else.”
My fingers flexed on the steering wheel. “Better the devil you know…”
“Right.”
“You don’t keep anything from me again, Zadie. You’re mine. What happens to you is my concern. You get me?”
She nodded in my periphery. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna take you back to your dorm now. Take the night to get your head straight. Julien and Marco can starve.”
Shifting in her seat, I felt her eyes on the side of my face as I drove. “What about you? Are you starving too?”
That voice. Goddamn that voice. It had gotten in my head too. When she wasn’t angry, when she was just talking to me like anyone else, she sunk me. Her words were crystal clear, like a glacial spring, but there was nothing cold about them. She wrapped every syllable in a fleece cocoon. It probably wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, but I felt the warmth in her words. More than that, her voice was sweet in a way that wasn’t put on. It was just her. Pure Zadie. Like a sexy-ass preschool teacher or something.
I didn’t like her having this effect on me. Not when she didn’t mean it or want it. I shoved away the desire to keep asking her questions so she’d keep pouring her honeyed words into my ear. No one had power over me, especially not little girls with soft bodies and angelic faces. Never going to happen.
“Nah, I’ve been eating elsewhere. It’s all good,” I replied, knowing the implications in my response.
“Oh.” She shifted again so she was looking straight out the windshield. “Good.”
I pulled up to the curb in front of Zadie’s building. She scrambled to gather her things, but before she could escape, I wrapped my fingers around her arm. She looked at me over her shoulder.
“Need you back at the house tomorrow. I’ll pick you up after your last class.”
Her eyes flared with surprise. “No, you don’t have to. I—”
“It wasn’t an offer. I said I’ll pick you up.”
One nod. She gave in easily. She must’ve been really afraid if she was agreeing without a fight. Why did that make me want to lock my doors, drive her to my house right now, and keep her in my room until whoever was fucking with her marched themselves into an early grave?
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered.
“You will. Now, get the fuck inside and text me a picture of you in your bedroom. I want face—not feet or pillows. Face, Zadie.”
She threw herself out of my car and made a beeline inside. I sat there, waiting for her text. It took five minutes, then there she was, sitting on her bed. Scrunched nose, rosy cheeks, pouty bottom lip. No cleavage, no body, and still, my dick pressed against my zipper.
Me: Good girl.
Zadie: Goodnight, Captor. Thanks for the rescue.
I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, done with this girl. If I looked at her picture for another second, I’d find a way to get to her, get her on her back, and finally sink into that pretty pink pussy of hers.
If that happened, if I allowed myself to give in to all the urges I had when it came to Zadie, I had no doubt I’d be well and truly fucked.
