5. LEO

I thought he was going to kill me, several times. He restrained himself from me. But when he touched me, I could feel him trying to claw back control. The way he'd placed his knuckles to my face, or when he grabbed my thigh.

He fed me; a sandwich, a cup of bitter hot chocolate, and a muffin. He took my phone from me once I'd told Susie I was staying out for the night. She didn't seem to mind. I wanted to tell her about this, but I didn't want to piss him off.

His eyes were like daggers when he stared, the pinched eyebrows, connecting with tension wrinkles. But when they eased up, they were deeply blue, and almost caring, if not sympathetic. I wanted to understand him, I wanted to know why he didn't hurt me.

I woke to him, standing at the foot of the bed, a cup in hand, the scent of coffee filtering through the air. He dressed in a blue suit jacket and a white shirt. His hair, freshly coiffed, and a rested flush to his face.

My face killed. Swelling was bitch. I forgot the last time I'd taken a hit; it must've been years ago.

"I have something for you to wear for your first day of work," he said, placing the cup and a handful of white tablets on the bedside table. "How did you sleep?"

"I—um—"

"There's a toothbrush in the bathroom, and clothes in a garment bag," he continued. "Put them on. I'll be back up for you in ten minutes." He turned on his heel, the gentle clack of his shoe as he walked out echoed on the floor.

I eyed the tablets; they looked like pain killers. I didn't have any reason to trust him, he'd told me himself he could kill me. But he also told me he wanted me alive to work off my debt, a debt he wasn't putting a price on. I'd be his servant forever.

If they weren't pain killers, I hoped they'd knock me out. Either way, I'd win, getting rid of this pain and passing out were both nice options to have in mind. I took the tablets, washing them down with the warm black coffee.

I'd only seen the bedroom of this house, but from the window in the bedroom, I could tell this was an expensive area. Although I didn't need to be a genius to figure out that a man who could afford to hire two men to beat the shit out of someone and then dress in expensive tailored suits lived in a wealthy area.

On a hook in the bathroom, the cloth garment bag. Inside it, a white shirt and a pair of pressed grey trousers. They felt like the expensive clothes I'd rubbed against wealthy men.

Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, the glass and chrome of this place was like a hotel. I stared at my face. There was more bruising now, including a black eye. And a line at my cheek from where I'd been cut. I knew as soon as I saw Susie again, she'd immediately question what had happened, and then do that thing where she doesn't want to say, I told you so, steal from the wrong person and you'll get hurt look. The second part would be a new addition, but her I told you so look was a cocked brow while she butted her lips and shook her head.

Samuel startled me at the bathroom door. He held a tube in his hand. "This should help the bruising heal faster," he said. "Put it on."

It was arnica cream. I applied it to my skin as he watched. I could usually get a good read on someone through the way they looked at me, but with him it wasn't like that. His face had the same calculating cogs whirring behind the eyes expression.

"I'm going to take you by my office," he added. "You'll familiarise yourself with the area. You should know where it is, since it's where you robbed me." He smiled, but the rest of his face seemed to stay the same. "I don't want you to leave my side. And later, you can collect your things before I move you into my flat. This is not a reward. This is so that I can monitor you."

"Your flat?" I asked.

"Yes. I don't live with my parents," he said, once more grinning. "If anyone asks about your face, you'll tell them you got jumped. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Understand?" he repeated with a vicious tone. "Tell me you understand."

"I understand."

"Good. Now put some cologne on. I can still smell the street on you," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I have a pair of shoes picked out for you in here. They might be a little tight on your feet at first as they're leather, but you'll wear them in. I want you to look professional. Or, as professional as I can make you."

It scared me to speak. I didn't know what to say, or what would get me hurt, although he'd sort of promised not to do any of the latter. All I knew was I had to listen, and I had to obey.

He walked me out of the room, no blindfold this time. The house was huge. I was more curious now to what he did, or what his family did. Eventually, something like this was bound to happen with me, some rich man from a rich family was going to catch me for what I did, and then I'd end up in prison. Except, he didn't threaten me with prison at all. His threat was death, and now, forced servitude. It was better than going to prison.

Stopping as we reached the foot of the stairs, he pulled something out of his suit pocket. "Oh, I forgot." It was a plaster. He peeled back the ends and stuck it gently across my cheek. "Remember what I told you."

I nodded. Of course, I remembered, it was hard to forget, and I didn't want anyone coming after me if I told the truth, which didn't look good for me either. I was the one who'd done something wrong first.

Out of the house, I glanced back on it. It was one of those fancy townhouses with several storeys. My mother always walked us around these parts of London, telling me that one day she'd have a big house just like it. I believed her as well.

As we walked, the leather shoes pinched at my feet and toes, I did my best to keep a brave face. I'd seen how I looked in the mirror, people would see that too.

"When we reach my office, I'll introduce you, but they're not your friends," he said. "You don't confide in them; you don't tell them about this little arrangement. You do as you're told, and if I find out, then—" he paused, turning to me. He looked me over. "Well, I don't think either of us want to find out."

Samuel wasn't the first person I'd stolen for, assuming that's what he'd want me to do. For a period, I stole for a man who would give me food and a place to sleep each night. He's the reason I knew I could trust Derek at the pawnshop. At least, I thought I could trust him.

After a brief walk, we reached the street where I'd bumped into him and robbed his watch and wallet. It was almost like I could witness the event again as it happened. Now, I regretted it.

He reminded me as we entered the office building with the glass walls about how I had to stay quiet, listen, and obey. By now, he drilled those words into my mind. I tried not to open my mouth, fearing for the pain in the side of my jaw.

His office space was on the top floor, we took the lift to get there. A cheerful blonde woman who introduced herself as Kelly greeted him. Samuel didn't allow me to speak, giving her my name before we moved around.

Kelly sat at a desk facing the lift door. Large, frosted glass windowpane offices surrounded her.

"It's like a maze," she said to me.

"I'll show him around," Samuel said. "Could you make me coffee?"

"Sure, and can I get you anything?"

I glanced to Samuel as he stared at me from the corner of his eye. "He'll have a water," he said, and I nodded.

Samuel walked me around the maze of glass office space, some of them had desks and were empty, others had people and the blinds were closed. And one of them was a large conference room. There was a kitchen stocked with fruits and individual wrapped muffins.

"My office is here," he said, opening the door to the largest space. It was decorated, unlike the other plain rooms. "I conduct most of my business from here."

"Ok, it's nice," I finally spoke, my voice cracking.

"There are cameras in the building, so if you think about doing anything, I'll see it." He gestured to the sofa against the side of the glass wall. "Sit."

The door closed behind us as he took his spot on the large white, leather office chair. He turned to face the view with his back to me.

"Can I—can I ask why you're doing this?" I'd prodded with that question before, but I wanted more of an answer. I didn't know what he did, or how I could've been useful. He wasn't like the last person I'd stolen for at all.

"I'm feeling charitable," he answered. "Besides, you're clearly lost. You're stealing to stay alive. It's dangerous."

The door opened as Kelly arrived with a coffee for Samuel and a fancy bottled water for me. "Anything else?" she asked. "Elias called. He was talking about Preston being here yesterday. You want me to put him on your schedule?"

"Fucking Preston," Samuel grumbled, taking his coffee, he blew at the steam. "I'll call Elias myself later."

She nodded, then left.

"So, what do you do here?"

"I'll have my men escort you later," he said, ignoring my question. "You'll collect a couple things, and they'll bring you directly to me." His eyes lingered, up and down, like he was assessing me.

My stomach tingled with excitement when I saw him look at me like that. It was almost like he wanted something. I'd seen that look before in men, the powerful ones I knew were bad for me, and liked to take advantage of what I liked. My little space was where I went when I felt comfortable, I filled it with rainbows and colouring books, stuffed teddies and cartoons from my childhood. I didn't feel comfortable with him, but I could feel that he wanted something more from me. "Are you—gay?" I blurted.

He let out a chesty chuckle. "Why?" he asked. "Are you looking for ways to pay your debt faster? Or does the idea of being on your knees excite you?"

"No, I—"

"It doesn't excite you, or you don't want to be on your knees?" he asked, grinning. "To answer your question, it doesn't matter what I am. All that matters is you learn to be quiet. No more questions."

I nodded, butting my lips shut.

"The more obedient you are, the more I might treat you," he said. "Now, drink your water. You should stay hydrated. I don't want you collapsing. And—as a freebie, to answer your other question. What I do here, is almost like what you do out there, except, I do it better."

I didn't believe for one second that he was also a thief. He was much more dangerous than that. I'd felt it first-hand, and I didn't want to feel it again.