Page 48 of Do It For Me

“But—”

“Please.”

I hesitate, looking at my mum one last time.

“He’s using you!” my father shouts. “You’ll regret this! He doesn’t—”

I don’t let him finish. I run outside, my chest heaving, until I reach Dante’s car. Once inside, I stare out the window.

They’re still arguing. Dante’s anger is more vivid now that I’m not beside him. Mum disappears upstairs, and I turn away. I can’t bear to watch anymore.

My stomach growls. From the back seat comes a smell so appetising it makes my mouth water. I can’t tell what it is, but it’s tempting—too tempting.

I close my eyes. I can’t eat without his permission. I can’t run away either.

I may have escaped one prison, but I still have nowhere to go.

The blaring of car horns jolts me awake.

I open my eyes, my heart pounding. The car vibrates beneath me, the hum of the engine steady and low.

Beside me, Dante grips the steering wheel. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding, and a thin cut mars his lip, another slicing across his cheek.

“What happened?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“A price to pay for getting you out,” he replies, his gaze fixed on the road. “It’s nothing. It all worked out.”

At the next red light, he reaches into the back and grabs a bag, then hands it to me. “I hope you like Chinese food. It’s all I could get this early.”

I take the plastic bag, the aroma hitting me like a wave. I dig in, eating whatever this is without hesitation. It tastes good—or maybe I’m so starved that even dirt would taste delicious.

“What happened with Mum?” I ask between bites.

“She’ll be okay. She’ll get in touch with you to arrange the wedding.”

“Is she—do you think he’s going to kill her?” My voice cracks on the last word.

“He won’t,” he assures me. “If I thought he would, I wouldn’t have left her there.”

A shaky sigh escapes my lips as I slump back into my seat, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“I’ll take you to the hospital,” he continues, his eyes flicking briefly from the road to me. “I need to make sure you’re okay. I’ll set up appointments for when we get back—or sooner, if you need anything.”

“Is it… over?”

He glances at me for a moment, his gaze softening. Then, his hand finds my thigh, his thumb brushing slow circles against my skin.

“It’s over.”

I smile through my tears, my mouth still full of food.

I can finally be free.

SOMEDAY

I’m bound, helpless, with no way to escape. No matter how much I scream, how much I beg, how hard I fight, nothing changes.

They slap me every time, mocking me.