Page 64 of Taken By Him

It’s not as scary now that it’s empty. Now that I’m an adult who has finally grabbed the reins of my own life.

“Kasia, what are we doing here?” Michael asks in a hushed whisper. His hand is posed on the butt of his gun.

“Don’t worry. He’s gone.” I sit at Dad’s desk and open the filing cabinet drawer. I thumb through the files until I find the one I’m looking for.

“Dominik will be here soon,” he tells me, like an annoying big brother who’s informed our father I’m snooping.

I get the address I need and stuff the file back into the drawer.

“Good for him.” I slam the drawer and get up. I walk right past him and down the hall, not sparing a glance at the family pictures hanging on the wall. I’m not in most of them and if I am, I’m tucked off to the side.

Fuck them.

Fuck everything here.

When I climb back into the SUV, Michael is right next to me.

“Tell me where we’re going,” he demands. He could end this right now and grab me, but I know he won’t. He’s young and hasn’t been around Dominik enough to know that stopping me by any means is probably safer for him than letting me do what I’m about to do.

“Making things right,” I say and pull away from the house. He grabs onto the handle of the door. I’ll admit my driving is a bit erratic, but there are lives at stake. I can’t wait around for men to decide to stop being monsters.

“Kasia. Where are you headed?” Dominik’s voice comes through the car speakers again. Michael called him again, I suppose.

“The transports leave every Thursday night.” I remember from hearing my father talking about them. I assumed he was moving stolen cars or merchandise, not people. I never thought he could be so cruel. I was an idiot.

“Kasia. Pull the car over. I’ll be there within ten minutes,” he orders.

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“Kasia, do what I’m telling you right now.” There’s worry laced in his demand.

“Do you want to threaten me with a spanking, Dominik?” I switch lanes, heading south.

“Kasia. I swear to you, it will so much worse than that if you don’t do as I tell you, right now.”

He’s bluffing. Maybe he’s not. I don’t really care anymore.

“Bye, Dominik.” I hang up again and find the button that disconnects the bluetooth. “Call him again, Michael, and you’ll be walking home,” I say in Polish to be sure he gets my meaning clearly, and head for the next exit.

The sun is gone now, night has settled around us. This isn’t exactly the best part of Chicago, so it would be best if Michael, and his gun, stayed with me.

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