Page 7 of Sensual Abduction

“Nala… that means queen in Swahili, right?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“You didn’t think I would know that, did you?”

“Everybody has seen The Lion King, so it’s pretty easy to google.”

“Not easily impressed… I like that. That means none of these niggas out here can play you for a fool.”

“I wouldn’t give any of those niggas the time of day.”

“Ah… so that means I have a chance.”

“Say what?”

“You said them. One thing I ain’t is one of them.”

He was right about that. He wasn’t one of those niggas; he was worse. College boys would fuck and duck you. Niggas like Slim could draw a bitch in by doing everything a woman expected of him in the beginning. Then when he got her right where he wanted her, he flipped the script.

He laid the foundation for a perfect relationship with me. He was loving, caring, and a good listener. He took me on dates and sent me flowers. He spoiled me with gifts and laced me in designer labels and jewels. For a whole year, he wooed me before ever making me his. Right before I was supposed to start my senior year, he staked his claim. He told me he wanted to take care of me. I foolishly allowed him to convince me to take a semester off. That was the worst mistake. One semester turned into a whole year, and I never went back. I was so head over heels in love with a façade that when he finally pulled the wool from over my eyes, I convinced myself that things would one day go back to normal between us.

That was my problem.

I fell in love with who he portrayed himself as and not who he really was. In my eyes, that person was still in there. I stayed, hoping and praying for the day that he showed back up, but he never did.

The real Slim came out, and by the time I realized it, I was stuck. I had no job and no money saved up. He took care of everything. He made me exactly what he needed me to be… a fucking dependent—someone he could control because there were no better options for me.

Thinking back on the mystery man made a chill run up my spine. I didn’t need another man like the one I ran from. Shit… I didn’t need a man period. Pushing the door open to Mr. Jenkins’ room, I laughed at the smirk on his face.

“Mr. Jenkins, don’t start with your mess today.”

“How many times I have to tell you to call me Clyde, baby?”

“Hm, about as many times as I told you to stop calling me baby and flirting with me,” I said, washing my hands then putting on latex gloves.

He chuckled as he scooted up further in the bed to sit up. I gathered everything I needed to clean and redress his wound, then removed the blanket to start the process. I had become immune to seeing open wounds—nasty ones at that. I had to, considering working in the hospital allowed me to do what I’ve always wanted to do—help others.

It had always been in my DNA to help people in need. I was a nurturer at heart, but after meeting and falling in love with Slim, it was as if I lost my identity. I wasn’t the same person going to college to obtain her bachelor’s degree in the medical field. I had become whatever the hell Slim wanted me to be, and I hated myself every damn day for it.

However, I was free from that situation, and with each day after those six years that passed, I felt myself taking more and more of my life back. I still had my head on a swivel. I had done a bad deed, but I didn’t apologize for it, nor did I regret it. That choice allowed me to be physically free. Now, I was working on being mentally free as well.

“Why are you single anyway, beautiful?” Mr. Jenkins asked, ending the silence.

“Because I choose to be.”

“Understandable. You know, I’m good at reading people.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup. And I can tell you’re running from something or someone.”

I tensed slightly as I continued to wrap his leg.

“Yeah? And why would you figure that?”

“It’s in your eyes. There’s also something else in your eyes, too.”

“What is that?”

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