Chapter 10
Sabastian
What the hell?
I know I’ve thought that more in the last twenty-four hours than I have ever before. But again, what is the ever-living hell?
I watched Oakley. I wasn’t lying when I said I had a camera. It wasn’t to be a creep, truly. It was to keep an eye on him. I’d have hated it if he panicked and I didn’t know. Leaving him chained to my bed, of all places, wasn’t right.
But what choice did I have?
I didn’t trust him not to try to make a run for it. Any sane person would have. I figured my bedroom, a place he was slightly familiar with, was better than being locked in the basement that housed spiders and Christmas decorations.
I hadn’t expected him to fix the bookcase, which was overdone for getting cleaned up. It hadn’t bothered me to have messy books piled however they fit there. Most of them were nothing I was ashamed of. And I didn’t care that the boy was looking through them.
It was hard to see his expression while he sat on the floor, his back to where I had the camera placed on the dresser. It was right there, in plain sight, even. I had wished, while I checked on him several times while I was out, for him to look over at where it was.
Leaving him had been hard, but what was harder was the fact that I couldn’t take him with me. Not when the clothes he brought had holes in them. I highly doubted he even knew, or cared.
The oversized sweater that was packed underneath everything else had been thin, with holes at the seams like he’d worn it for years. For all know, that’s exactly what he had done.
Other than that, a couple of shirts, three skirts, and one pair of flannel pants.
Was that all he owned? I didn’t need to know that answer. Because I was pretty sure that was all he had to his name.
It was unfair to anyone to have to go through a life being tortured and turned into something like Oakley had.
Taking the book that was not appropriate for a seventeen-year-old, let alone a twenty-one-year-old, I tossed it into the trash.
I couldn’t believe out of all the books that there were on that shelf, he picked that one. Why? Was he wanting to test me?
That book was all about littles in the BDSM lifestyle. While I agreed with most of that stuff in that book, it wasn’t one I wanted Oakley to ever set eyes on. It was bad enough that I could see the certain tendencies that already spoke to me as it was.
I had to keep reminding myself that Oakley was a minor. It didn’t matter one bit that he’d been trained, conditioned, to be a slave for whatever my needs were.
It was a good thing I was the buyer, even though Donny saw none of that money.
Oakley was a walking wet dream, and I was disturbed by my own thoughts on him.
Shaking the thoughts away, I pulled out the take-out containers from the bag on the table. Oakley stood a few feet away, hands clasped in front of him, eyes down to the floor.
I had to wonder if that was one of the many things that Donny forced him to learn, or if it was just natural to who he was. Almost everything I’d observed of the boy seemed to be natural so far. But that could easily be from years of training.
“Sit.” I dipped my head towards the chairs, waiting for him to choose which one.
Slowly, he took a seat that was closest to him, sitting down gently, right on the edge as if he was unsure if it was the right choice.
“How’s your pain?” If it was uncomfortable to sit, I’d find him a pillow.
“Better, Sir.” His voice was so soft and raspy as if he hadn’t used it for a very long time.
“Good. Let me know if it starts to bother you.” I placed the carton of food in front of him before putting mine down in the place across from him.
Looking at Oakley, I could already tell he wouldn’t speak up about the pain. Of course, that wouldn’t be surprising. He’d been abused by the hands of someone who knew how to make the pain last for days.
“I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question,” I pulled my gaze from him to my food, opening the white box. “I know you can talk, thanks to Collin’s input yesterday.”
He nodded once, keeping his hands in his lap. “Eat. Slow.”
At the order, he finally opened his container. I had gotten him French fries and chicken strips. Easy food that would less likely upset his stomach. I got myself a hamburger with all the toppings.
“While I was out,” I said between bites, keeping an eye on his food.
He was, thankfully, eating slower this time.
Tiny bites that he chewed quickly, but it was better than him stuffing it into his mouth so quickly it made him look like a chipmunk.
“I got you some clothes and other things. You didn’t bring much with you. ”
I just wasn’t sure if he preferred skirts or pants. So, I had gotten him a bit of everything. “Whatever you don’t like, I’ll take back for a refund.”
Oakley opened and closed his mouth many times, choosing instead to shove a bit bigger bite into his mouth.
His face paled slightly at whatever thoughts he had. Ones that weren’t going to be shared willingly.
Maybe, hopefully, in time he’d feel comfortable enough to share the thoughts that went through his head. But at the same time, I hoped he wasn’t here long enough to feel comfortable to do so.
Right now, I was kind of stuck with the boy, despite what I wanted. Collin was adamant that I kept him since no one could get anywhere close to my house without first, a code, and two, without me knowing. And even then, they wouldn’t be able to barge in easily.
The only problem was that I didn’t have any place Oakley to sleep, other than my bedroom. Sure, I had other rooms that were ready to be uses as his space.
Keeping him close was best, even though it tormented me in many ways. I wanted him close, even though it wasn’t smart to do so. I needed space, which I wasn’t going to get either.
I was fucked up. As was this situation.
By the time I finished off my food, Oakley’s own was less than half gone. The boy, mostly just skin and bones, still tried to eat a few more bites.
“Once you’re full, stop eating. We can save it for later.”
Instantly, he dropped the fry he was munching on to the container and placed his hands back in his lap.
Would he have kept eating until he made himself sick?
He didn’t move as I stood, taking both of our containers to put away. Oakley didn’t move a muscle as I did so. If it wasn’t for his shoulders moving with each breath, I’d have been a bit more worried.
“Go get a shower. I’ll bring up the new clothes.”
At that, Oakley was up and out of the chair like it had caught fire. He didn’t bother to spare me a glance.
I sighed, my head dropping to my chest.
I had my work cut out for me.
Only when I heard the water in the shower start did I finally move to take up the few clothes I got for the boy? Once he’d let me know what he liked, I’d get more.