Page 3 of Unlocked

Miss Mary covers my ears while saying something to him, before carrying me back to the room. “Stay here, Kazzy baby, okay?”

I nod my head and watch her walk out the door. Someone yells on the other side before the door slams open and my Mommy comes in. I run to her with my arms held wide, wanting her comfort. The sound of her slap echoes around theroom, and I’m thrown to the floor. Tears fill my eyes and I look up to see her face red and angry.

“You almost got me fired, you little bitch. I told you not to leave this room. Stay here so I can finish my damn shift or next time I’ll make sure to leave you with one of those men out there," she gestures behind her with her thumb angrily.

“I’m so-sorry,” I try to say, but she’s already out the door, leaving the bitter taste of blood in my mouth and a pool of my tears on the floor.

Chapter 3

Jonathan

Twelve years old

I sit across the dining table from my brother, Jamison, while eating my meal. Our adoptive father, Richard, sits at the head of the table while our adoptive mother, Vivian, sits to my right.

“How is your schoolwork going, Jamison?” My father asks my brother.

My brother pushes the corn on his plate back and forth with his fork, with zero emotion on his face.

“Very well, father. All A’s. My teachers are providing me with higher-level work now.”

“That’s fantastic,” father says and claps his hands together. “It’s about time I introduce you to some of my colleagues. How lucky we are to have chosen two smart and talented children, right, Vivian? A boy genius and a future baseball star.”

My mother looks up at Richard and smiles as her hand lands on my leg under the table. “Oh yes, I’m so thrilled. Jonathan’s coach told me how well he was doing the other day. He might be a future MLB player. What do you think, Jonathan?” Her hand glides up my thigh, causing my body to stiffen. I sit frozen in my chair as her fingers run towards my inner thigh. “Ya, umm, that would be cool.”

I see my brother’s eyes narrow in on us, but I don’t say anything. I can’t let him know I’m the weak link. He has alwaysbeen the stronger one of us. He can always hide and control his emotions while I have let mine flow freely. My escape has always been through joking around and laughter.

I’m not laughing inside while my adoptive mother inappropriately rubs her hand on my inner thigh, yet I force a smile on my face and laugh anyway. “Wouldn’t it be cool if I was a famous pitcher?”

“Yes, it would, son. Yes, it would!” Richard replies.

Vivian’s fingers lightly brush closer to my crotch, making me gulp and widen my eyes before scrunching them shut. I count to ten, silently praying she doesn’t take this further. What would my father think if he found out she had been sneaking into my room at night? Where would he send us? The orphanage we grew up in burned down shortly after we were adopted. What if he sent us away somewhere worse? At least here, we had everything else we wanted or needed. I could escape inside myself a little longer, and then we could be free. She loves me; that’s all this is. She can’t help it. Jamison stands up so suddenly that it knocks the table against us and spills our mother’s wine. Her hand jolts off my leg and she stands quickly, dabbing her dress with a napkin.

“Sorry,” my brother says with zero remorse on his face. “I’m feeling a little unwell. I think I will retire to my room for the rest of the evening.”

“I think that is wise,” my adoptive mother responds coldly.

My father stands up and presses his hand to Jamison’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm, but getting a good night’s rest is probably best. Go on up. I’ll have Deloras clean up this mess.”

My brother nods and spins on his heel before heading upstairs. I excuse myself quickly, before following behind him, but stop short when I hear my parents bickering in the dining room. Jamison is already up the stairs and out of sight when I hear pieces of their conversation.

“He did it on purpose…”

“Get yourself together...”

“...Taking them to The Cellar in three weeks.”

“...Worth so much money now.”

“They are ridiculously handsome…”

“Can you imagine the money?”

I blink in confusion at the last sentence. My parents have loads of money. My father owns multiple large corporations and is extremely well known. He even plans to run for Senate one day. Why would they need more? And what is The Cellar? Afraid I’ll get caught if I stay longer, I go upstairs and into my bedroom. Jamison’s room is directly across the hall from mine, and his door is already closed. I think about checking on him but decide against it. I don’t want to bother him if he really is feeling sick.

After finishing my homework a few hours later, I fall asleep.

The door to my bedroom opens slowly, waking me from my sleep. I peek my eyes open enough to see the time on the clock. It’s 2:00 in the morning. I slam my eyes shut, wishing Jamison was still sharing a room with me like we did the first year we were adopted. That ended the first night Jamison woke up to Vivian in our room, sitting on my bed.

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