Chapter Five

A fter lying in bed for hours with nothing to do, I decided to get up and take a shower. There's a lock on the door so I feel comfortable enough to let myself be vulnerable.

The shower is cathartic. As the hot water falls on my body, tears fall down my face. I let all the stress and emotions from the last however many hours rush out of me.

By the end, I feel like a brand new woman. I felt hopeless when I entered the shower, but stepping out, I feel a renewed energy.

I am not weak. I can figure this out. It might not be ideal, but I've always embraced challenges in the past. I can embrace this too.

Taking my time, I dry my hair with one towel while I have another wrapped around my body. I frown when I look at the toothbrush. There's only one.

I'm not desperate enough to use his, though. Maybe in a couple weeks when my teeth feel like they have grown fuzz, but I'm not there yet.

Yet.

I'll get there if I don't figure out a way to prove to him I won't turn on them so he will let me go. Escape is futile.

All done, I leave the towel for my hair hanging up as I open the bathroom door.

I startle when I find Kado standing outside, leaning against the opposite wall. I didn't expect to see him there.

My heart is thumping in my chest as I look at him. He looks different in my post-emotional breakdown eyes. His hair is black and long enough to cover his eyes. It's unkempt, but in an almost intentional way. Not that I think he does it on purpose. He doesn't even own a brush.

His eyes are as dark as his hair. When I look into them, I feel like I could fall into the abyss and never come back. It scares me so much that my eyes immediately fall to the only true color on his face.

His lips are a peachy color. They look pillowy-soft. Plump even. I'm sure many celebrities have pumped their faces full of fillers to get a similar effect, yet Kado has the look so effortlessly.

He's quite attractive if you look past his occupation. Well, what I assume his occupation is. I haven't asked him yet.

While I'm lost in my thoughts, he reaches down, taking my hand, making me jump. I don't want to touch him, especially when I'm only wearing a towel, but he doesn't give me a choice. He pulls me along with him.

This is it, I think. This is when he rapes me.

I'm fully ready to kick, fight, and scream, but he surprises me. He doesn't turn into the room I slept in.

Instead, he takes me to a chair at the lone table in the open area of the apartment. He gently pushes on my shoulder to indicate that I should sit.

So I do. Then I close my eyes. I feel as he moves behind me.

I take a deep breath, ready for whatever he plans to do, but I don't expect him to touch my head.

It's soft. Lightly as if he's petting me. Then he combs his fingers through my strands, catching on the knots.

The first couple hurt, but it's almost as if he knows as he gentles his movements quickly.

"You need a brush or comb," I tell him after several minutes.

He grunts.

It's the first noise I've heard him make. It has me curious.

Turning slightly to look at him over my shoulder, I find him focused on my hair. He's picking through the knots as gently as he can as he smooths my hair down. Turning back forward, I focus across the room.

"Does it turn you on to brush girls' hair?" I can't help the snarky comment.

He pauses before moving in front of me. Then he kneels in front of me, pulling his notebook out.

This isn't about that. I won't hurt you.

I wish I could believe his words, but I don't even know him. I'm not sure I want to get to know him.

He's a cold-blooded killer. He abducted me and is keeping me prisoner. How could I trust him?

He stands, moving back to his position behind me. Then he continues to brush my hair with his hands as I lose myself in my thoughts.

I'm going to slowly lose my mind here. He's given me access to the entire apartment space, but he locks me in here with no windows and nothing to do. There's no TV or radio. Not even a ticking of a clock. Is this what it's like to be insane?

I feel like I'm slowly going there.

I open my mouth several times to speak to him, but what would I say? I don't want him to think I'm getting comfortable here.

I want him to let me go. Or at least acknowledge me as more than some item in his home.

That's what this feels like.

No matter how good it feels to have him running his hands through my hair, I can't get lost in it because it's not the intimate gesture it would be from a lover.

Instead, it's one showing possession. He's claiming me in a way. Telling me that I am his to do what he pleases with.

He says he won't hurt me, but how long will that last? Will he wake up one day and realize that he could do so much more and I wouldn't be able to stop him? He's obviously much stronger than me.

In fact, I think the quiet man has a lot more going on inside of him than most people know.

What do they say? The quietest ones are the most dangerous.

I think Kado is the most dangerous person I have ever met.

The more I think about him and this situation, the faster my breaths come.

Finally, unable to handle anymore, I stand from the chair before turning to face him. His hands are frozen in the air as he looks at me. I keep a tight hold on my towel, needing the barrier from him.

"I'm going to go change. I hope it's okay I use your clothes. I need to wash mine," I rush out.

He nods once.

Taking that as my dismissal, I rush down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind me.

Oh, how I wish it had a lock.

Instead, I stare at the wall, wondering what the hell I'm going to do.

I'm failing at this.

That's all I can think as I walk into the local superstore.

Lucy isn't happy. I know it's only been a day, but I should have been anticipating her needs. Instead, I am floundering.

When I saw her in that towel, of course my body reacted, but my mind is stronger. All I wanted to do was dote on her.

That's how I ended up combing my hands through her hair. I saw her wince a few times, so I softened my touch. I wanted to show her that I could care for her. That she didn't need to be afraid of me.

Of course, that had the opposite effect. She assumed I took some sort of sexual pleasure from the act. That is the furthest from the truth. Sex had nothing to do with it. Companionship did, though. I enjoyed having someone to care for. Someone to coexist with.

If I want her to stay and be happy, I need to step up my game. I need to give her what she needs.

Right now, what she needs is a brush for her hair. Maybe when I buy one, she will let me use it on her.

I smile at the thought.

I really hate coming to these stores. It makes my skin itch. There are so many people milling about all the time. Even at this late hour. It's not long before closing, yet there are still employees stocking and late-night customers looking for whatever they came for.

It makes me feel exposed. I usually avoid places like this. I order most of my shit online and have it delivered to a PO box I have set up under an alias. I go through a lot of measures to keep my identity secret. My land isn't even in my name. It's under a shell company.

So coming here tonight is a big step for me. I can't even tell you the last time I came into a store like this.

It takes me browsing a few aisles to find the section with brushes. Only there is so much more than brushes here. There are all sorts of hair contraptions. I wonder if she would want any of these.

The brushes themselves are different. They have square ones and round ones. The bristles are all different, too.

I have no idea what kind to get her. I've spent my entire life simply using my hands to brush through my hair, then cutting it when it gets too long. I had no idea all of this shit existed.

My chest deflates.

I really wanted to do this on my own. I wanted to be able to say that I didn't need any help with Lucy.

That's not the case, though. I need to ask someone for help.

I could ask Cleo, but she gets overexcited. She would call me and talk my ear off for an hour.

No, the best choice would be Miya. I'm closest with her, and I don't think she will tell anyone about this. At least not if I ask her not to.

So I open my text messages.

Me: I need a favor.

It's late, but I know she's awake. She has a shift at The Currency, the hotel Kai owns and Kenji manages. Miya is the den mother to the working girls there. She takes care of them and makes sure the clients are acting right.

It's a hard job, but she does amazing at it.

Miya: This is new. What can I do for you?

I respond back quickly.

Me: You can't tell anymore.

Miya: Ooh, sounds juicy. I won't say a word.

I smile at her immediate response. I knew she was the one. I used to guard her for a while. She was the first woman to truly see me. To try and be a friend to me. We bonded over that time.

Still, when she calls, needing a guard, I go running. I'll always protect her.

Me: Which of these brushes do I need?

I send her a picture of the section.

Miya: For you or someone else? I need more information than this to make a choice.

Me: Not for me. For a girl.

Miya: What kind of hair?

Me: Brown?

Miya: You men are useless sometimes. Does she have curly hair? Straight? Thin? Thick?

Who knew she would need to know all of that? All this is doing is making me feel worse. I don't even have the answer to some of those questions.

Me: Long, straight hair. I'm not sure if it is thin or thick. How do you tell?

Miya: You could always ask her.

Me: Not an option.

Miya: Fine. Any of these should work.

She sends the picture back, but with circles around several brushes.

Me: Thank you.

Miya: I am going to want more information later. I assume this is the girl Kenji told me about. I won't interfere, but I'm here if you need me.

Me: I know, but I need to do this myself.

Miya: I know you do. Just making sure you know that you are not alone.

This is why I went to Miya. Without question, she drops it. All she wants is for me to know that she is there. No pushy questions. No lecturing or giving unsolicited advice.

Some follow-up questions to my request, sure, but she answered my questions simply and then let it go.

Heading back to the front of the store, I grab a small basket. Then I go back to the aisle and throw all of the brushes she circled into the basket. Then, for good measure, I grab one of every hair accessory in the aisle.

The lady who checks me out tries to spark up a conversation, but I just point to my ears and act like I don't understand. She assumes I'm deaf, like most people, but I prefer it that way. They tend to talk more when they think you can't hear them.

She smiles at me, muttering to herself that whoever I am buying this stuff for is a lucky girl.

She is indeed, Barbara.

Once she is done, I pay my bill, not caring about the amount. No amount is too much for Lucy.

Then I make my way back to my car. I can't wait to show anata what I've gotten for her. I hope this helps move us in the right direction.

She might not be with me by choice right now, but by the end of this, I want her to choose me over and over again like I will her.

Every. Single. Time.