Page 69 of Invisible Bars

I closed my eyes briefly, grounding myself as my fingers twitched at my sides. Then my voice softened, trembling under the weight of too much truth.

“She takes me b-back and forth to work. Sometimes she doesn’t even charge me. Just says, ‘Let me get you there safe, baby girl.’ That’s not j-j-just a ride; that’s somebody who g-gives a damn! And I ain’t got many people like that in my life. I-I know she’s worried about me, okay?” I explained.

Imanio’s expression shifted—just a little—softened like something clicked.

“There’s a house phone in the kitchen. You can use it… with supervision.”

I scoffed.

“Look, Naji, I’m not trying to make this harder than it has to be. But I have to earn your trust first. Once I do, I’ll turn your phone back on… maybe. It all depends on you.”

A tic hit before I could answer. “Hostage hospitality—real five-star service. Fancy shack!”

Imanio chuckled under his breath but didn’t comment.

“Whatever. Y-You have a beautiful house, by the way,” I complimented awkwardly, my fingers tapping uncontrollably against my thigh.

“Preciate it,” he replied, tone neutral but not cold. “And just so you know… you’re not a prisoner here… at least not around the estate. You’re free to roam as you please.”

“Oh, wow!” I exaggerated. “F-Freedom within the golden gates! H-How progressive of you! I just can’t leavehere,huh?”

“Not alone; either me or security goes with you. That’s the rule.”

“Locked in luxury!” I grumbled. “Designer j-jail cell, courtesy of Imanio Kors.”

“See!” Imanio pointed at me like I’d just proven his entire case.“Blurting shit like that isexactlywhy you can’t leave! Hell,maybe that wasn’t a tic; maybe you were saying how you really felt.”

“No—itwasa tic! Although t-true! Like… my real thoughts come out before I can catch them, and my mouth don’t ask for permission first. I’m not always in control of when the truth spills out. Doesn’t mean I meant to say it out loud… doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it either. It’s.. it’s complicated.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, dragging my gaze away from him and toward the pool. I stared at it for a moment, my thoughts drifting deeper than I meant them to.

Three days. That’s all it had been. Three days since I was just Naji—quiet, working, minding my damn business. I didn’t hurt nobody or cross nobody. I took my meds, kept my head down, and smiled at strangers even when I didn’t feel like it. So why did this have to happen to me? Why couldn’t the bad shit find the people out here doing the most?

A sharp breath caught in my chest, and before I even realized what I was doing, my lips parted and whispered low, almost like muscle memory.

"Nana... I don’t know what’s going on, but if you can hear me... just sit with me. Please."

I didn’t ask for deliverance or miracles, just presence. That used to be enough when I was little—her just sitting near me when the world got too loud. I imagined her right then, rocking slow in that worn wooden chair, humming gospel off-key, palm pressed to her chest.

And for a second, the pressure in my chest didn’t feel as heavy. But when I opened my eyes again, I was still there… and so was he.

The fine, rich man who kidnapped me. The man who never raised his voice but somehow made silence feel like a sentence. The man who made sure I went without my necessities, one minute, then reminded me who was in control the next. The oneI couldn’t figure out—because just when I started to hate him, he’d do something that made my heart pause.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked, voice low.

I wanted to say,It’s your house,but him asking felt so out of place. Oddly enough, I appreciated it.

The small things mattered… especially now.

“Cloudy lungs, light it up, inhale your secrets,” I mumbled. “No, I don’t mind.”

Imanio gave a single nod and lit the blunt, the smell curling into the air like something familiar in an unfamiliar place.

Out the corner of my eye, I could feel his gaze tracing over me— not in a creepy way, more like… observing.

“I like thiscleanlook on you,” he spoke up, blunt resting between his fingers.

His tone was complimentary with a side of shade.