Chapter 20
I t had been a few days since I crept into Dion’s room, had sex with him, then left. I wasn’t sure why I avoided him since then, but I had. He had given me free reign of the house, but I had been staying in my room unless I left out to eat. My thoughts and emotions had been everywhere, and I needed space to process them. Something transpired between us, but I didn’t know what. The whole thing about my father still confused me. The more I thought about him, the angrier I got. For him to be so tough, he didn’t seem like it since he still hadn’t rescued me. I was at the stage where I wasn’t sure if I even wanted him to.
Since Dion left early in the morning, I got up and cleaned the house a little. It wasn’t dirty; I just needed something to occupy my time with besides watching TV and coloring. I found some candles in one of the closets and lit them.
The fridge and cabinets were stocked, so I decided to cook dinner. I figured it was the least I could do to show my gratitude for him not killing me. I laughed to myself because that thought had left my mind a while ago. There was no way he would have kept me alive all this time if he wanted me dead. He still hadn’t been clear on why he still kept me here, and I stopped asking. I hadn’t even gotten smart with him like I did in the beginning.
I wish he would have left my phone so I could listen to music while I cooked, but that probably would have been pushing it. It was just too quiet, so I turned the television in the living room on and found a music station. I blasted it while I prepared ribs, collard greens, baked beans, and cornbread. It surprised me that he had as much food as he had because it seemed like when he fed me, he was giving me the same things almost every day. I would have baked a cake, but I didn’t have the ingredients for it. There was some ice cream in the freezer, so we would have that for dessert. I also made lemonade.
While I cooked, I prayed that he liked what I did. I wasn’t trying to impress him, but I didn’t want to set him off either since we had been making good progress.
“You got it smelling good in here.”
I jumped when I heard Dion come into the kitchen. I guess I couldn’t hear him over the music playing.
“You scared the shit out of me. Sorry about the television being so loud.”
“You good. What are you making?” he asked as he walked closer to me at the stove.
“I made ribs and some sides with cornbread. I’m just waiting for the cornbread to get done.”
“That’s what’s up. I’m going to wash up, then I’ll be back down to eat with you, if that’s okay.”
A pang hit my stomach because the first thing that came to mind when he said to clean up was that he’d been with a woman while he was gone. I did smell a hint of perfume mixed in with his cologne, but it wasn’t my place to ask any questions. I didn’t even have a right to feel any kind of way about it.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“My mom had me doing all types of shit around her house, so I wanted to shower and change first.”
It was like he knew my inner thoughts or could see them on my face because I hadn’t asked him, and I was unsure of why he told me.
“Oh, okay, cool. I’ll wait for you,” I informed him.
“Thanks. Give me ten.”
He left the kitchen and left me confused. I checked the cornbread, and it still had a couple of minutes left, so I went into the living room and turned the music down. I wasn’t sure if we were going to eat in the dining room or the kitchen, but the music was still loud enough to hear in the background, no matter what room we were in.
Ten minutes later, Dion strolled back into the kitchen wearing a black T-shirt and sweatpants.
“Do you only wear black shirts?” I asked as I reached for some plates from the cabinet.
He chuckled and looked down at his shirt. “For the most part. I have some white ones too. Here, let me help you.”
I stood to the side as he grabbed a couple of plates. I bit my bottom lip when his shirt raised a little, showing the waistband of his boxers.
“Thank you. Do you want me to make your plate?”
“No, I’m right here. I hope it tastes good.” He winked and scooped some beans onto his plate.
“It is.”
We ended up in the dining room since I set the table.
“Thank you for this,” he said as he sat down.
“It gave me something to do.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but he cleared his throat and picked up a rib. I wondered what that was about but quickly forgot about it when he lowly moaned. The sound shot straight to the middle of my thighs. I shifted in my seat as I picked up a rib myself. I knew I could cook, but I never had anyone moan because of my food. It made me want to stick out my chest a little.
“These shits are good. Who taught you how to cook?”
“I taught myself. I was home alone a lot. I would watch videos online and practice them. It wasn’t like my father had time to show me, and with no mother around, I had to fend for myself.” Sadness filled me when I thought about it.
“Damn. Sorry you had to go through that.”
I smiled. “Thanks. It is what it is at this point.”
I scooped some beans onto my spoon and ate some. I didn’t know how people ate beans with a fork; it was so weird to me.
Neither of us said anything as we continued to eat. A few minutes passed when I thought of a question to ask. It wasn’t anything important, just something that served as an icebreaker.
“If you could celebrate one holiday per year, which one would it be?”
“I don’t really fuck with the holidays like that. It doesn’t make sense to me why people go all out for a day that someone made up to make money off. If I love you, you are going to know every day.”
“That’s interesting. I’m not big on holidays either, because my father and I never celebrated. Before my mom left, I got Christmas gifts and birthday gifts. My uncle did the best he could, but it wasn’t the same.”
I didn’t think that question through because the shit made me sad all over again.
“What’s the furthest you ever rode on your bike?”
I was glad he asked something simple because I wasn’t trying to get in my feelings about my upbringing and the lack of things I missed out on.
“Not far at all. Maybe like two hours. I also wanted to go further but didn’t want to go by myself. Plus, my bike wasn’t the best, as you know.” I smirked.
“Maybe you’ll still have the chance to ride wherever you want to go.”
I cleared my throat. “I hope so.” I didn’t know if that meant he would eventually let me go or we would ride together. I didn’t want to read too much into it. “There’s ice cream for dessert if you want it.”
Dion sat back in the chair and rubbed his stomach. “Nah, I’m good. If you want, we can talk some more in the living room. I’ll put the dishes in the dishwasher.”
He was being extra nice to me, and I didn’t know why. I wasn’t going to ask either, at least not at the moment.
“Thanks. I think I’m going to pass on the ice cream myself.”
Eating ice cream after eating all that food we had wouldn't have been good for my stomach, and I wasn’t trying to be gassy around Dion.
“Cool.” Dion stood and gathered the dishes we used.
Since the pitcher of lemonade was on the table, I carried it along with the cups into the kitchen.
After I put the pitcher in the fridge, I left Dion in the kitchen and went into the living room. The music still played, but I turned it down so we could hear each other. There was a question that I had thought about over the last few days, and I figured it was the perfect time to ask.
Dion entered the living room with two bottles of water and smiled at me. Something about him was different. He seemed… lighter. Even his eyes didn’t seem as dark and scary as they had been. The sudden change in him was even more of a reason for my question.
As soon as he sat down, I asked, “Why am I really here?”
Deep down, it felt like it was more to his story, and I needed to know what it was.