I answered, planning to hang up if I heard the hint of a deep voice.

“You’re really just going to abandon me like this?” Shawn whined, his voice strained like he was under a lot of stress.

“Yes. Now you get Davis to yourself! Congratulations.” My motorcycle roared to life.

“… Girl, please, if you leave I’m losing my job,” Shawn broke, sounding exhausted.

I stopped, a cold chill washing down my back.

“This is harassment.”

“Who’s going to believe you? Who’s going to believe me?” Shawn said, his accent gone and his voice broken, “Why does my job have to rely on you? This isn’t fair!”

My lips thinned, but I slumped. He was right. My hand reached out, and my motorcycle stopped roaring. My breath fogged out, and I felt frozen. If he was willing to go this far… What were the chances of Kageson hiring a private investigator to find me even if I were homeless? I’d end up in jail with the debts I couldn’t repay haunting me.

“You’re right, this isn’t fair at all,” I agreed quietly, the strength in my legs gone.

The smooth concrete was cold. No snow made it this far down the parking garage, but the frigid air seeped into me. No escape.

No escape.

Another situation that ended with me trapped and wistful. Anywhere but here, did that goddamned sentence have to haunt me like this? What did I do to deserve this? What did Shawn do?

“You aren’t leaving still, are you?” Shawn asked. Begged.

“How could I?” I returned, voice empty.

I lay on the floor of the parking garage, hoping I would freeze to death. I sighed heavily, heart desolate and eyes glazed over as I dropped my phone, watching the call end.

The lights in the parking garage were warm-tinted, the cold gray floors of the lot looking almost green under the light. My limbs were numb, and my mind was blank.

… How long was that?

A year and a half, plus another half a year… two extra… however many years law school took, let’s say another four at worst. Then a decade after that. For the next sixteen years, I would be at the mercy of Kageson.

Because I wanted to keep my job. A job that didn’t require a degree or any amount of thought.

My phone looked stark against the floor from where it fell. The wheels of my motorcycle were stained with salt, and the underside of my motorcycle looked like it desperately needed some TLC, which I’d planned to give it come spring.

The sight of polished business shoes and pristine slacks didn’t make me feel any better as they strode toward me. The steps grew rushed for a moment before they were close enough that, if my motorcycle weren’t in the way, I could kick him.

“This is not returning to work,” Davis mentioned.

My eyes blurred as I sat up, one arm pushing myself up as the other swiped at my eyes, “You must think yourself a God, able to control our lives like this. Have you always lived like this? What bullshit.”

Fingers reached out, wiping away the tears I missed. He owned me. The feeling twisted within me, my stomach burning with shame. I avoided his gaze, grabbing my phone and duffel bag and shoving my keys back where they belonged.

I should have let myself get fired. The college deal was a deal with the devil, and the man before me looked wholly unaffected by the misery he caused.

The feeling of barbed wire wrapped around my throat, chains wrapping up my arms, and impossibly thick cuffs wrapping around my skin, burning with the cold. The leash was a simple chain held in the long and delicate fingers of the man who would do an excellent job of being the personification of the devil.

It was like I hadn’t known I was free until that freedom had been taken away, the bitter taste of defeat filling my mouth like a poison.

Sixteen years.

That… that was over half of my life. When it was over, an entire third of my life would be gone, given to him.

Exhaustion filled me. When I got to the elevator, head ducked and shoulders slouched, I weakly slumped against the corner of the elevator. I didn’t like the warmth that infused me. I wanted to feel freezing cold, I wanted my fingers to burn and feel like they were going to fall off. I wanted… I needed…

I needed my knife.

Reaching out, I was going to hit the floor for the gym, but a hand wrapped around my wrist.

“You can keep your bag in my office. I wish to speak to you after work, regardless.”

I don’t respond, just taking my wrist back and returning to the corner of the elevator.

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Knives dug into the wings I didn’t know I had until they were too broken to use. I stared at the bloodied feathers, stared at the awkward way they were slumped within the elevator, wishing my imagination was just a bit worse than it was. Wishing I couldn’t taste the iron, feel the pain, see the slowly pooling blood on the ground.

A crunch echoed within my mind as a polished shoe stepped on my wing, breaking the small bones within, and I couldn’t help the small gasp escaping my lips.

Fingers coated in blood gently reached out, and my head was lifted alongside my illusion. I stared into the clean, normal face of my boss, wishing he looked like the monster I wanted him to. Wishing he looked just slightly uglier. Looked more malicious.

Calm gray eyes stared at me as his thumbs brushed away my tears, which were starting to dry. His hands were stupidly gentle, and when he spoke, it was much softer than I expected.

“Making imprudent decisions will not resolve your issues for you.”

Imprudent? What the fuck did that mean? The sudden rush of anger was welcome, but I just used the energy to reach up and push his hands away. Whatever had crumbled inside of me had been rebuilt, and spite filled me.

“I don’t need my issues resolved,” I said sharply, “I already tried resolving them and I failed. Maybe I wouldn’t be so eager to leave if you would stop reminding me of my failures and the issues I can’t resolve.”

Davis sighed, “Avoiding your issues—“

“I didn’t avoid them,” I interrupted, giving Davis an annoyed look before my gaze turned to be straight ahead, eyes glazing over and vision blurring out of focus, “Beyond help. Whatever’s going on is something I can’t fix whether it be with medication, therapy, good living, whatever. I’ve tried all of that. Multiple times. I’d love it if you would shut the hell up about things you don’t know jack shit about.”

The rest of the elevator ride was silent, and I walked to his office without looking at Shawn, setting my duffel in the corner between the couch and the armchair before turning. I deftly avoided Davis’ reaching grasp, ducking under his next attempt as I left the office.

Davis’ office door closed to the sound of him sighing heavily. I stopped when he didn’t try chasing after me, looking down.

My chest was tight, my lungs roughly constricting with each breath and my heart sparking with pain. The pain wasn’t imaginary, this time, but I ignored it as guilt and a different kind of pain poured over my resolve.

I didn’t look away from the ground as I spoke, voice quiet, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that would happen.”

“What did you do, girl?” Shawn asked, voice quiet and raw.

He’d cried.

More guilt dragged across my tense shoulders. My jaw clenched tightly, hands fisted.

“I don’t know. I don’t—I just—“

The words escaped me as breath took their place. I gave Shawn a look I couldn’t guess at the emotions of, my eyebrows rising and scrunched together, my hands coming up to roughly scrub at my head.

My arms dropped. Shoulders slumped, I left without another word, head ducked. The tiles passed beneath my feet in a hazy blur.

I hate rich people.

What sort of mess did I tangle myself into? Why was he acting this way?! What did I do to deserve such a thing?

I curled up in the corner, waiting for my floor to be reached. I wished I’d taken the stairs so I could have fallen down them. I stood up once the numbers reached 78, ignoring the people coming and going. I walked out once the doors opened, dazed.

There were urgent papers.

Staring at the papers for a very long moment, I grabbed the stack and set it on top of the other pages for contracts. The elevator ride was twice as long as the way down had been, but I didn’t mind. Every time a floor was skipped over, pain twisted in my chest.

Thirty seconds extra that I missed.

An idea formed as I walked along the gold-accented black tiles, and my hands set the paper down on Shawn’s desk.

“Here’s the papers he needs from legal,” I murmured.

Shawn looked exhausted, and his voice sounded it, the redness to his eyes and the bags under them from the crying he’d done only increasing my own exhaustion, “You’re not going to deliver them?”

“I’m avoiding him, for obvious reasons.”

Shawn nodded, standing up. I turned and left as he took the papers inside, three minutes late. Eighteen years total. Sixteen and a half years left.

Sixteen and a half years left.

Maybe if I kept repeating it, it would feel like a shorter time. To think I’d readily agreed to a ten-year contract after I got the final degree necessary… To think I’d make such a stupid choice when I didn’t even plan to be alive for sixteen more years.

I sighed as I made it to the stairs, hesitating at the sight.

My legs gave out, and the stairs were really, really soft. Warm, like a blanket engulfing me, and the landing would hold my peace. My freedom was one floor lower, pain coming too late as everything went dark.

My foot stepped forward, and my legs remained steady even as they bent at the knee.

I could just give up. I could just give up. I couldjustgiveupIcouldjustgiveupIcouldjustgiveupIcould—

The 78th floor came sooner than I wanted. I walked to the bathroom, washing my face without looking in the mirror. The feeling of a shoe ground into my hand, the vision of blood, and the scent of regret filled my senses. I rubbed at my knuckles absently as I went to work on college stuff. When my alarm went off, there was nothing in the baskets, so I just continued focusing.

My patience was low with the professors, but the words swam in my vision when I tried arguing my way into a better grade. I couldn't read anything.

Going to the contracts, I stared at the empty baskets. Looking around, then at the time, I realized what I’d delivered was the last of the day.

How long had I been lying next to my motorcycle? How did time pass by without me noticing?

I found the lights off as I stumbled my way through the area before Davis’ office, the glimmer of comforting golden light coming from underneath the doorway and shining down the hall a direct taunt.

There was no comfort to be had, beyond those doors. I rubbed at my eyes although they’d been dry for hours—has it really been hours?—and walked to the doors.

Opening them, I was blocked. Looking up, I saw Davis standing there. He looked as tired as I felt, his tie loose around his neck and his hair in disarray. He wasn’t wearing his blazer, I noted, his sleeves rolled up.

I knew why, the gush of warm air emanating from the open doors a delight to my still-chilled form.

The window was dark, behind him. The gold and the warmth made his office seem very inviting, but he didn’t move. I was in the dark and cold, staring at the golden light within his warm office. His shadow hid me from the direct light, stretching beyond me.

My eyes shifted, looking to the side, but I could only see a sliver of the armchair beyond him. No words managed to escape my mouth, and my thoughts were empty for a long moment. My gaze slid back to him. I stared at him for a long moment.

What did I do now?