Smith says nothing, but there’s a haunted flicker in his eyes, followed by reluctant heat. Right, brother?”īaker catches me off guard by pushing me into the dimly lit room, right in front of the Goliath-sized man whose chest begins to heave violently, his eyelids growing heavy. That’s how I know he hasn’t had one in years.
I bring him groceries once a week, because he doesn’t trust anyone else. This is where he’s been living since they let him out of the institution. It’s right there in his eyes-pain, rage, resentment. There is no mistaking this man has been damaged somewhere along the line. Tattoos cover every available inch of his neck. There is a scar bisecting his upper lip, five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw. His black hair is shaved down to the quick, his eyes a piercing shade of light blue. If it wasn’t for the utter hatred contorting his features, he might almost be handsome. When I do see it, my lungs seize and I renew my efforts to get away. One so tall that I have to tilt my head all the way back to see his face. Revealed is a very, very large man, indeed. Several bolts and locks disengage on the other side of the door.Īnd then it opens slowly, creaking on its hinges. “Smith,” Baker calls through the steel door, rapping on it with his knuckles. Who would even believe me if I told them this was happening? Even if I did have someone to protect me from my coach, he took my phone. There is the strict, yet fair choreographer at the ballet company, but she seems intimidated by Baker, as well. I’ve always wondered if he is more willing to try these experimental methods on me because I’m an orphan. Sometimes it seems like he’s enjoying my pain and confusion. Once, he ordered me to remain in the plie position so long that my muscles locked up and I needed to be taken to the ER. He once made me walk on a tightrope over broken glass for hours. I mean, Baker has done some crazy things in the name of training. And my coach is going to leave me here with this individual? For the whole night? One that lives in an abandoned warehouse and isn’t fit for polite society. Oh God, whoever lies beyond this steel door is very large. To my horror, we have reached the door and the shadow on the other side has stopped moving. In 2020, the Last American to Receive a Civil War Pension has Died
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