Page 28 of Locke

“Even if they were sleeping pills, I don’t know what’s going to happen when I take them. No, no, actually, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to wake up to.”

“What are you afraid will happen?”

Was this guy serious? My eyes bulged. “That’s a loaded question. You could easily kill me when I’m unconscious. You could sell me off to the underbelly like that weird fuck in the trunk, the one that said he liked little boys but then stared at me like he wanted to literally consume me.”

“Fucks like him are opportunistic. They’ll take anything pleading and broken.”

“You’re not convincing me taking pills from a serial killer is a good idea.”

“It’s not a good idea, but the other option stands, so choose.”

Choose to ride in the trunk with a dying man who might touch me as he passes? Fuck no. Then again, riding unconscious next to this monstrous man?

“This is fucked up.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he told me.

“You did by abducting me!”

“You witnessed me murder a man.”

“I said I wouldn’t talk!”

“You won’t even tell me your name.”

I just gave him a lost look. “What difference does that make?”

He stared back. “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.”

How was giving him my name going to change anything?

I ground my teeth, feeling like I might vomit or plead or scratch his fucking eyes out. I wound up panting instead as my lack of options tormented me.

“Is there a third option?” I asked, feeling vulnerable as ever now as I glanced at his open palm where the pill was.

“No, you’re a problem,” he answered swiftly.

“Like I said, if you let me go, I won’t talk—”

“That’s not why I want to keep you.”

My stomach knotted at the heat of his stare now. “Then why?”

“You intrigue me.”

“Because I grabbed your hard-on in the washroom?”

“No.”

“Because I sucked your tiny cock?”

“Your mouth barely fit my cock.”

“My mouth is small.”

His tone was dry. “Little prey, you’re a fucking handful.”

“Then don’t keep me.”

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