by B. B. Hamel
They’re always running from something. We get a lot of people out here, escaping their pasts, chasing something in the future. They’re all running some way, all try to get someplace better.
Most of them don’t make it. Some of them don’t even make it out of town.
We pull into the department lot and I park in my spot. I get out, walk around the side, and help Emma out.
“Just don’t talk, okay?” I whisper in her ear.
She nods and we walk up the side entrance. I swipe my card to unlock the door and we head inside, down a short hallway, turning left in the main hall.
There isn’t anyone around. It’s the graveyard shift, and anyone that’s on duty right now is heading out to The Fast Fresh to deal with the murder. It’s only Pauly working the dispatch tonight, and he’s stuck upstairs in a little closet.
Still, I want to move her fast. I don’t want questions, not right now. I should be at the fucking scene and people are going to wonder where I am.
We make it through the building without running into anyone. There are old cells tucked way in the back where pretty much nobody ever goes. I have a key, the only fucking key in the whole place. I unlock one of the cells and walk her inside.
The place is old, and the bench is practically rotting from the wall. There are water stains and graffiti all over the place. Cobwebs hang in the corners.
She’s starting to panic again.
“I really can’t,” she whispers, pleading with me.
“Stay here.” I step out, shut the door, and lock it.
She lets out a small groan and sits on the bench, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, drawing into herself.
I sigh and walk away. I let her keep her backpack. I figure there’s nothing in there, anyway.
I find a blanket and a pillow. I buy a soda, some chips, and a sandwich from the vending machine, and I bring it back to her.
She looks up. “Please, don’t—”
I pass her the food. She perks up, stands, and grabs it. She rips it open and hungrily tears into the sandwich.
I watch her for a moment. I lean up against the bars, wonder what the fuck I’m going to do with this pretty little runaway.
And then I know. Without a doubt in my mind, I know what I want to do with her.
It’s fucked and wrong and goddamn, I can’t help myself.
The thing is I’m not a good man. Oh, sure, I’m a cop, the damn police chief, youngest in the history of the town, but I’m not a good man. People think I’m kind and caring and outgoing, with a nice smile and gentle eyes, but they don’t know me. They don’t know me at fucking all.
“Emma,” I say softly as she finishes her sandwich and chugs down half the soda.
She looks up at me. “Yeah?”
“Did you kill that guy?”
She shakes her head. “No, I swear. I saw the guy that did it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s good. Can you point him out to me, if I got a picture?”
She nods eagerly. “I saw him. Kicked him in the crotch. He was going to… I don’t know. Hurt me, I think, just as you guys pulled up.”
I grin at that. “Kicked him in the crotch? Good for you.”
She winces a little. “I didn’t mean to. I just reacted.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, you did the right thing. You’re lucky Kaleb hit the alarm, otherwise you’d probably be dead right now.”
She winces again and looks away. “I saw his face,” she says softly. “Made eye contact.”
“Okay, good.” I take a breath and let it out. “So how about we make a deal?”
She looks at me warily. I can see the fear in her eyes, but she’s desperate. She’s all alone, half starved, clearly some kind of runaway. I’d guess she’s no older than nineteen or twenty. And I’m positive she’s never seen a fucking dead body before, let alone witnessed the actual killing.
She’s freaking out. She’s out on a limb here and I’m the only person that can protect her.
That puts a smile on my lips.
“What kind of deal?” she asks me finally.
“Here’s what I think,” I say softly. “I think that you really didn’t kill anyone tonight. But I also think you’re the only suspect. You say there was someone else, but who knows if there’s any evidence at all of that.”
She speaks up quickly. “I swear, I saw him.”
“I know,” I say, holding up my hands. “But the thing about that is nobody gives a shit. You’re some stray girl, wandering into town late at night, breaking into a convenience store. You think anyone’s going to believe you?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not lying, I swear.”
“I know,” I say again. “But it looks bad. See, people are going to say you broke in there, killed him by accident. Doesn’t matter if you don’t have a weapon. Town like this, they need to close cases as fast as possible. They need to take a win where they can get it. Nobody gives a damn if they lock up some stray girl for the rest of her life.”
Emma’s eyes are wide now and I can see the fear and panic coming back. “No,” she whispers.
“Yes,” I say, smiling casually. “They’ll lock you up and throw away the key. But if you make this deal, you might survive.”
She groans and clutches at her soda can. The tin flexes and pops before she looks up at me again, anguish and fear in her eyes.
“What do you want from me?” she asks.
“Either you confess to the crime and go to jail for the rest of your life,” I say, and hold up my hands to stop her from interrupting. “Or, you agree to let me keep you.”
She looks confused. “Keep me? What do you mean?”
“What do you think it means, little Emma?” I smile at her, cocking my head. “I’ll bring you home with me. Clean you up, feed you, take care of you. And I’ll fuck you whenever I damn well please.”
Her eyes go wide, staring into mine. “What?”
“You’ll be mine, Emma. Oh, I’ll be gentle. I’ll even be nice. I’ll lick that pussy until you can’t get enough, and trust me, you won’t be able to get enough. I’ll get you off over and over and over again. I’ll make sure you love it when I touch your body.” I pause for a second, looking deep into her eyes. “But you’ll never say no. If I want to fuck you, I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck your mouth, your tight little cunt, your tight little ass. I’ll fuck you rough and deep and I’ll spank your ass raw. You’ll be all mine, Emma, and in exchange, I’ll give you freedom.”
“That… doesn’t sound like freedom,” she whispers. “Sounds like you want to use me for sex.”
“Sounds about right,” I say. “But it won’t be so bad. I’ll let you have some leeway, if you’re a good girl and don’t give me trouble.”
“And if I do give you trouble?” she whispers.
“Well.” I smile at her. “Prison is always an option. I am the police chief, after all.”
She bites her lip. I can see her thinking this over, considering it, wondering if she really doesn’t have any other options. She’s probably wondering if I’m serious about this, if I can really do this, if she can really go rot in jail if she doesn’t.
I can do this. And she will rot if she doesn’t.
Finally, she speaks. “I don’t know if I can trade one prison for another.”
“It won’t be prison with me, little Emma. It’ll be pleasure.”
My radio suddenly beeps to life. “Chief? Where the hell are you?”
I grunt and respond. “Back at the station.”
“They want you at the scene. Why the hell ain’t you at the scene, Chief?”
I sigh and roll my eyes sarcastically at Emma. “I’ll be there soon. Who’d you get to man it?”
“Evans and Graves,” Pauly says.
I nod. Evans is a good detective and Graves…
Well, Graves likes cash more than he likes putting people in jail.
“Good. I’ll be there soon. Over and out.�
� I turn my radio off and smile at Emma. “Clock’s ticking. What will it be?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
I sigh a little. I can’t stand here and wait much longer. Everyone’s suspicious enough as it is, and I don’t need any more questions than they’ll already have.
“Okay then. I’m heading to the scene. You can stay in there and think about what I said.” I turn away and head to the door.
“You’re just leaving me here?” she asks.
“Damn right,” I say, looking over my shoulder. “Hang tight. I’ll be back soon.”
I get to the door. I put my hand on the knob.
“Wait,” she says. “Hold on. Please. I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” I turn to look at her, smiling.
“I’ll come with you,” she whispers.
“Come with me,” I say. “Does that mean you’ll be mine?”
“Yes.” She stares at the floor.
“Say it, Emma.”
“I’ll be yours.”
“And what does that mean?”
“You’ll own me,” she whispers. “I’ll… do whatever you ask.”
I grin, ear to ear. “Good girl. Now, I have to go. You stay here and think about how you’re going to make me happy.”
“Wait, no!” I open the door and slam it shut behind me, a huge smile on my lips. I can hear her yelling as I walk away. By the time I get to the part of the station that people actually ever use, her voice is all but a whisper in the back of my mind.
Damn right she’ll be mine. She has no clue what she agreed to, but I know one thing.
She’s going to fucking love it.
3
Emma
A lone in the dark.
Alone in a cage.
This is why I ran away from home. I can’t keep doing this, finding myself thrown in a cage, locked up and controlled.
I was born in Pennsylvania, right in the middle of the state where there’s nothing around but farms for miles. My parents were religious, but they weren’t part of any official group. I guess they were some kind of Christian.
They didn’t act like it, though.
The first emotion I can remember is fear. I was afraid of my father and his loud voice. I was afraid of my mother and her angry hands. Every day, I was either hit, yelled at, or locked away in my room.
For years, they abused me. I took it because I didn’t know any better, and slowly but surely, they broke me down. They destroyed me. They took everything from me.
I lived in that house until two weeks ago, when I turned twenty years old.
I knew I had to get out when my cousins came to visit for the first time in years. They had phones, they had access to the outside world. I didn’t tell them about my father hitting me with his belt, or my mother slapping me in the face over and over for dropping a glass. But my cousins showed me things, showed me how the outside world is supposed to be, and it looked…
It looked nice.
So I ran away.
I figured I had nothing to lose. I mean, if I stayed in that house, I was as good as dead anyway. And the world outside the house doesn’t look half as bad as mother and father made it seem to be. They pretended like the world is full of sinners and demons.
Really, it’s just full of people, and people aren’t one thing or the other. They’re both at the same time.
So I stole money from the box my father keeps hidden under his bed and I left. I’m sure they looked for me for a little bit, but I doubt they’re still looking. Either way, they won’t find me. I ran and I ran fast, and I’m never going back.
I’ve seen more of the world these last two weeks than I have in my entire life. I’ve seen good things and bad things. I learned that my parents were right about the demons, but they were wrong about how common those demons are. I learned that most people are just normal, not a demon or an angel. Most people will even help, if you give them a chance.
I traveled across the country, or at least that’s how it feels. I took a bus at first, and I stayed in a motel one time, but my money ran out pretty fast. I didn’t know that what I stole wouldn’t get me very far. I don’t know how much money’s worth. I’ve never had to use it before.
I know now. I learned a lot these last two weeks. I’ve figured it all out.
But here I am, stuck in a cage again.
I knew going in that store was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. At least I got a little something to eat, but still, I’m stuck in a cage and I’m afraid I’ll never get out.
I don’t know if I can trust that policeman. I don’t know if Rhett is telling me the truth.
But he’s the first man I’ve met that made me want to trust him. Most men are dangerous, but Rhett…
Well, he’s dangerous too. But he’s also handsome, really handsome, and his smile makes my stomach do flips, and his arms make me want to reach out and touch them.
It’s stupid and I know I should be afraid. I should probably try and run, or maybe tell someone else the truth.
Instead, I want to trust him. I want him to be true to his word. For once in my life, I want someone to actually try and take care of me.
So I stay in that cage. It’s dark, but not too dark. I’m good at passing time in my head, humming songs to myself, closing my eyes, trying to sleep.
I wake with a start when the lights come on suddenly.
The door to the hallway opens. I sit up as Rhett stalks into the room, looking tired, but he perks up when he sees me.
“There she is,” he says, grinning. “Did you get some sleep?”
I nod once, watching him warily.
“Good,” he says, and leans up against the prison bars. “Did you think about my offer?”
“I know what you want,” I say, my voice almost a whisper. “But you should know that I’m… inexperienced.”
He stares at me and barks a short little laugh. “That’s great.”
“Great?” I arch an eyebrow.
“Listen, you have plenty to learn, and I have plenty to teach you. But that’s not all I care about, you know.”
I stare at him. “Why else make that offer?”
He shrugs. “Because I’m generous.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay, fine. So, what will it be?”
“I’ll come with you.” The words tumble from my mouth and part of me wishes I could scoop them back up. Going with him is a mistake and I know it, deep down in my core.
Maybe most people aren’t demons or angels, but I think Rhett is one or the other. I just can’t tell which one yet.
His eyes sparkle as he smiles at me. “That’s good enough,” he says, and slides a key into the cell lock. “Come on then. Let’s get you home.”
He unlocks the door and I step out into the hall tentatively. He grins at me and gestures for me to follow.
“Wait,” I say, hesitating.
He looks back at me, eyebrow raised. “Now’s your chance,” he says softly.
I bite my lip, not sure what to do. If I follow him, I’m trading one kind of prison for another…
But looking into his handsome face, into his gorgeous eyes, I think maybe, just maybe, some prisons are better than others. And if I have to choose, I’ll choose something that might actually…
Oh, god. Something that might actually feel good.
I think I’m sick. Maybe I really am broken.
But I nod once, and he smiles brightly.
“Right this way, miss,” he says, opening the door.
I follow him back through the station. Nobody glances in our direction. He moves purposefully, nodding at people in welcome, a smile on his lips. I follow closely, heart beating fast, praying that nobody stops us.
“Chief!”
A man steps around a desk. He’s young, slightly shorter than Rhett, with dark hair and dark eyes. He’s handsome too, though in a different way, more wild looking.
“Detective Evans,” Rhett
says to the man. “You have something for me?”
The detective looks in my direction but turns back to Rhett.
“Couple sets of prints,” he says. “Lab’s running them now.”
“Fibers? Hairs?”
He nods. “Some of both, but it’s a store. There’s a lot of stuff in there. We won’t know if anything’s worthwhile just yet.”
“Good. Keep me updated. We need to get this thing solved fast.”
The detective nods and I feel his dark eyes turn to me. We walk past, hurrying away from him, and I swear he stares at me the whole time.
We finally make it outside. Rhett leads me to a police cruiser, and he opens the back door for me. He smiles when I don’t hesitate to get inside.
He drives away from the station. We head out of town, not talking as the buildings turn back into trees.
The house is about twenty minutes outside of town down a long, gravel road, tucked behind maybe a couple acres’ worth of forest. It’s in the middle of nowhere on the side of a hill, made from long wooden slats with huge windows along the front.
It’s a pretty house and I can’t help but stare at it. “You live here?” I ask.
He nods and turns the engine off. “I like the privacy.”
I bite my lip. “Any neighbors?”
He grins at me and cocks his head. “What do you think?”
He gets out and opens the door for me again. I follow him up to the house, climbing some steps and walking across a short deck. We step inside and I can’t help but look around. It’s relatively neat, with pictures on the wall, some deer heads mounted above the fireplace, and some guns hung crosswise between them.
It’s a typical hunting lodge type vibe. I don’t get that feeling from him at all, but he seems totally at ease in the space, so it must really be his.
I linger awkwardly. He takes off his utility belt and lays it down on a table before turning to me.
“Welcome home,” he says.
“It’s… nice.”
He laughs a little. “Well, you won’t be staying up here, of course.”
I feel a little spike of anxiety. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I can’t just let you wander around.”
“I promise, I won’t—”
He laughs and steps toward me suddenly. I’m surprised and stumble backwards, running up against the wall behind me.