News Boy - Susan Hawke Page 0,29

intent on finding Mr. Brody, but it was just Mr. Dylan on the other side of the glass. Though my heart was still racing, I felt so much better I forgot to get Mr. Brody and opened the window instead.

Mr. Dylan craned his neck to see around me, then smiled at the closed bedroom door. "Good, you're alone. I was worried when I heard you screaming. Is everything okay?"

Even though he was my friend, I didn't want to tell him my private secrets. I shrugged. "No, I guess. I don't know. I'm probably not supposed to be talking to you, though. I'm in timeout."

Mr. Dylan looked shocked. "You were standing over there as a punishment? No, that's not okay with me. In the words of one of my favorite movies—nobody puts baby in the corner. Come on, baby. Let's go to my house and drink hot chocolate. I’ll make you feel better. Don't worry, I'll bring you back once you're ready."

Totally tempted, I shifted, but something told me it was a bad idea. "I don't know… I should probably stay here."

"Why? So your big thug can boss you around some more? You deserve to have some fun. He doesn't have a right to tell you what to do. Come on, it'll be okay. You'll see. And since we'll be next door, you know you can come home anytime you're ready."

Okay, his idea sounded fine. "Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise." Mr. Dylan even held out a curled pinky when he said it. Giggling, I wrapped my pinky around his for a quick shake. He took a step back and held out his hands. "Climb out the window, baby. It's not far, and I'll help you, but you have to meet me halfway first."

I pressed my hands on the windowsill and leaned over, wiggling my way free. When I was halfway out, the metal tracks holding the window in place pushed into my belly. "Ow. I'm going back inside, Mr. Dylan. This doesn't feel good, and I think it's a sign I shouldn't do this."

"Nonsense. Lift up on your hands and get your belly off the tracks." I wasn't sure, but he sounded kinda mad, so I squirmed my way backward. Frowning, Mr. Dylan grabbed me by my armpits. His fingers dug in and hurt where they poked me. Even though I said to stop, he pulled me through the window anyway and tossed me over his shoulder.

I pounded my fist against his back and kicked his tummy with my knees. "Put me down. I want to go back."

Mr. Dylan set me down but didn't let me go. He jerked me around so my back was to his chest and covered my mouth with his sweaty hand. "You're not returning, baby. I finally got you, and I'm going to take care of you and make you mine."

His other arm around my waist, he lifted me barely enough to carry me through the open gate and out of my yard. My heart raced, and I wanted to fight. But I couldn't. I got so scared my whole body froze. His front door was standing wide open, and I just knew I didn't want to go in there. Until we were inside his house with the door shut, Mr. Dylan kept his hand on my mouth.

In the middle of the living room was a big baby highchair, made for an adult. I sobbed when he shoved me inside and used the tray to lock me in, shaking my head. "No, Mr. Dylan. I'm not a baby—I'm a big boy. I don't want to stay here."

Ignoring me, he tied my hands and feet to the arms and legs of the chair. Not so much my hands as my forearms, thanks to the tray. But he tied me so tightly I couldn't move anyway. I was still super scared, but at least I found my voice.

"Mr. Dylan, I'm ready to go home now. We made a pinky promise, remember? Besides, I can't be here without Lady K. She'll be sad she didn't get to see you, too."

"Forget your stupid cat. I don't know why I ever used her in the first place. The damn thing always scratches me whenever I go get her."

Wait. What did he say? Before I could think about it, Mr. Dylan grabbed my face and kissed me with his icky lips. "I'm sorry I had to tie you to the chair, baby. It's for your own good. Only until you stop trying to escape.