''I thank you all for your attention, sitting to listen to me'' Dad expressed joy while holding his packet of cigarettes.

"The person you see here is my daughter, and not just my daughter, but my only daughter. I hold her in high esteem. She's all that I got and should be treated with honor and dignity"

Nan is very obedient. That's what we call her. Nan." Dad tells the Wolf Master. "She does what you tell her to do, she never disobeys."

He ruffles my hair, the action more rough than affectionate.

"Her wolf is fully submissive, an Omega if ever there was one." He pulls me into his side, making me feel like the best on earth.

Even though I'm no Omega and Dad knows it, I keep my mouth shut. Now is really not the time to stand up for myself.

"Nancy can cook, clean, and hunt, and she has a good head on her shoulders,"

Dad continues. "Worth her weight in gold, this one." Usually, I'm the useless screw-up, so you can't blame me for being shocked that Dad is suddenly singing a different tone, gold, this one."

He changed his narrative and feelings towards me, and I was really wondering. Though to please him, he was saying all!

DMC doesn't seem to like what he's hearing either, or maybe he's just fed up with listening. He was busy facing the ground and acting like I was not relevant to him, but something else.

He's actually getting more pissed off by the second, which doesn't even seem possible. His entire body is shaking, as if it takes considerable effort for him not to go in for the kill.

"Is she ready now?" he growls and gives me the once-over. I shudder and draw my arms closer to my sides, trying to look smaller, more submissive. The wolf equivalent of "please don't hurt me; I'll do whatever you say."

"She's worth much more than seven thousand dollars, so you're actually getting yourself a real bargain," Dad adds, and my eyes widen.

Seven thousand dollars? How in the hell did he manage to get indebted to such a giant sum? I look between Dad and DMC and some of what's happening starts to make sense.

Dad got himself into a mess, and now he wants me to clean it up. He mentioned cool, cleaning, and hunting, and it's not like he ever does any of those himself.

Seven thousand dollars, though? How long would I have to work for DMC to settle that kind of debt? Months or years? It is perplexing, and I can't imagine the role I will play that will make me pay off such debt.

I'm pretty good at math, so I try to work it all out in my head. I get paid minimum wage at the diner, and I doubt DMC would pay me any more than that.

So I'd have to work around two thousand hours, and if I put in forty hours a week, that would be... crap, I have no idea. I can't count on the spot like this! Not with DMC growling at me and ready to strike.

All I know is that it will take a long time. A whole year if I may say? Or even two years, maybe much longer than that? Seven thousand dollars! Plus, what would happen to my small business at the food stand?

I can't do both! Will Dad make me quit my business? How do I handle the situation at hand? Just that he sold off some lands given to him on pledge, and used the money for frivolities.

The owner was on his neck, and he went and borrowed money at a high interest rate but could not pay as when due. Dad did not calculate well.

He is such a lackadaisical kind of person. His way of life has put him in trouble. "What would I want her for?" DMC asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Housekeeper? Slave? She doesn't care," Dad responds. "She'll do whatever you tell her to. She's a hard worker, so she'll earn her keep, and then some." DMC says nothing, and Dad sighs. "Look, I could probably sell her for much more than that if I want to."

I gasp as the shock of what Dad is saying begins to sink in. He doesn't want me to work for DMC. He wants to sell me to DMC on the grounds of arranged marriage or contract marriage! Sell me! Like I'm a piece of property, is that even legal?

"Maybe this is all just a bad dream. Any second now, I'll snap out of it and realize I fell asleep doing homework. I pinch my hand, desperate to wake up, but the nightmare only keeps getting worse.

Just give me a couple of days and I'll get you your money." Dad laughs. "How hard is it to sell a young girl? She's a virgin too, you know. Or I think she is?"

Dad gives me a questioning look, but I just stand there, horrified. This can't be happening! "If I take her," DMC growls, "you will have no say in what I do with her. You will never see your daughter again. I will make her my own, except that the debt is cleared in the agreed-upon time. She is standing as collateral.

You'll never speak to her, write to her, or have any contact with her until all conditions are met! Is that understood?" DMC takes a step toward Dad and us, and tightens his hold around my shoulder.

"Of course" He nods, the scent of triumph replacing the hope and worry that I smelled on him earlier. "She's all yours."

"Very well." DMC growls. "I will forgive your debt in due course."

"I knew you'd see things my way," Dad smirks, and I shudder.

This is not happening. Dad did not just sell me to someone! Is this a joke? Did he get one of his buddies to play along so he could have a few laughs at my expense?

I wouldn't put it past him, but DMC looks pretty serious, and somehow I can't see him as one of Dad's beer-drinking, card-playing friends.

I know Dad doesn't like me, but he's still my father! I never imagined he would do something so despicable.

Furthermore, I thought that if I could stand him until I finished high school, I'd get out of here, away from this run-down house and this awful small town.

If I'd known Dad was going to sell me and make me someone's slave, I would have run away years ago. The deed is done already. I have been sold off without my knowledge. It's so incredible and pathetic.

Suddenly, I just want to get as far away from this nightmare as possible. I need to shift, to escape... to run and never stop. I try to pull away from Dad, but he's holding on to me with an iron grip.

Furthermore, I fight against him and almost break free, but DMC grabs my other shoulder. His grip isn't painful, but it's strong, and he has no trouble holding me in place.

"Nancy," DMC spits out, and I hate the way he makes the beautiful name my mom gave me sound. "If you try to run, I will track you down, and it won't be pretty for you or your father."

DMC growls, and I freeze, his menacing glare making me tremble. His arm is still on me, and I shudder in disgust.

"You will go to your room and pack your things," DMC orders and lets go of me. Dad does too, and it takes everything I have to force myself not to make a run for it. "If you try to leave, I will hear you. If you attempt to escape, I will punish you.

I don't respond. It's all too much. Dad just sold me to a violent, scary, pissed off Wolf. I can only hope that I'm going to be a housekeeper and not something disgusting, like a sex slave. He may not be bad looking for an old guy, but still. Gross!

I can't handle this. I just can't. Furthermore, I start to shake my head, but then DMC shouts the order, "Do what you're told. now!"

His voice is laced with authority, and instinct propels me up the passage to my bedroom. I pick up my duffel bag on autopilot and begin to pack up my stuff before I have time to process what's happening.

Dad told me that Dons, and occasionally Betas, can have this sort of it over Wolves; that it can be hard, or even impossible, to disobey them.

I just never believed him because it sounded so far-fetched. I figured he was exaggerating, or maybe just making the whole thing up to mess with order, but if I'd known this was for real, I would have taken the training a lot more seriously.

I take deep breaths and clear my mind the way Dad taught me, and the effect of DMC's order starts to dissipate. Suddenly, I have an overwhelming urge to climb out the window and run. I'm fast, both in wolf and human form, after all the practice I've had running from Dad.

The man may be in horrible shape, but his wolf is lean and strong. It's weird how that works, but we have to exercise in both forms if we want to stay in shape.

Still, Dad and I are rogues, so we're much weaker than other Wolves. That's why no pack has ever wanted us. Even if I can outrun Dad, I'm probably a snail compared to DMC.

Plus, he's expecting me to run, so he's ready to give chase. Once he catches me, he might kill me on the spot, beat the crap out of me, torture me, or worse. As he warned me, it won't be pretty.

If I'm going to escape, I need to bide my time. If I act weak and obedient, DMC will lower his guard. Then, when the time is right, I will make a run for it. I just hope it won't be too late. I will definitely find my way out of his home, and in no time I will carry out my plans adequately. Many will be shocked at what I will do.

Suddenly, I just want to get as far away from this nightmare as possible. I need to shift, to escape to run and never stop. I try to pull away from Dad, but he's holding on to me with an iron grip.

Furthermore, I fight against him and almost break free, but DMC grabs my other shoulder.

His grip isn't painful, but it's strong, and he has no trouble holding me in place.

"Nancy," DMC spits out, and I hate the way he makes the beautiful name my mom gave me sound. "If you try to run,

I will track you down, and it won't be pretty for you or your father." DMC growls, and I freeze, his menacing glare making me tremble. His arm is still on me, and I shudder in disgust.

"You will go to your room and pack your things," DMC orders and lets go of me. Dad does too, and it takes everything I have to force myself not to make a run for it. "If you try to leave, I will hear you. If you attempt to escape, I will punish you.

I didn't respond. It's all too much. Dad just sold me to a violent, scary, pissed off Wolf. I can only hope that I'm going to be a housekeeper and not something disgusting, like a sex slave. He may not be bad looking for an old guy, but still. Gross!

I can't handle this. I just can't. Furthermore, I start to shake my head, but then DMC shouts the order, "Do what you're told. now!"

His voice is laced with authority, and instinct propels me up the passage to my bedroom. I pick up my duffel bag on autopilot and begin to pack up my stuff before I have time to process what's happening.

Dads told me that Dons, and occasionally Betas, can have this sort of DMC over Wolves; that it can be hard, or even impossible, to disobey them.

I just never believed him because it sounded so far-fetched. I figured he was exaggerating, or maybe just making the whole thing up to mess with order, but if I'd known this was for real, I would have taken the training a lot more seriously.

I take deep breaths and clear my mind the way Dad taught me, and the effect of DMC's order starts to dissipate. Suddenly, I have an overwhelming urge to climb out the window and run. I'm fast, both in wolf and human form, after all the practice I've had running from Dad.

The man may be in horrible shape, but his wolf is lean and strong. It's weird how that works, but we have to exercise in both forms if we want to stay in shape.

Still, Dad and I are rogues, so we're much weaker than other Wolves. That's why no pack has ever wanted us. Even if I can outrun Dad, I'm probably a snail compared to DMC.

Plus, he's expecting me to run, so he's ready to give chase. Once he catches me, he might kill me on the spot, beat the crap out of me, torture me, or worse. As he warned me, it won't be pretty.

If I'm going to escape, I need to bide my time. If I act weak and obedient, DMC will lower his guard. Then, when the time is right, I will make a run for it.

I just hope it won't be too late. I will definitely find my way out of his home, and in no time, I will carry out my plans adequately. Many will be shocked at what I will do.

While in my room picking up some of my belongings, I sat on my bed, restless. Tears dropped from my cheeks and I could see myself getting involved with what I know nothing about.

My dad had an opportunity to get such giant money, but he wasted it. Assuming he invested it in a good investment company, it would have been better. He hasn't cared about my welfare since my mother died, and now I am to save him from a state of financial dilemma.

Looking at my precious room, which my mom arranged for me right from when I was much younger, I feel so bad that I am moving out of it unplanned. It was heartbreaking and so disheartening that one could wake up to see that she is being sold to a stranger,

I picked up my duffel bag mom got me and took one last look around my bedroom: the single bed, with its stained but freshly washed sheets; the beat-up wooden desk and matching chair that got me through years of homework; the now-empty dresser, which barely had any clothes in it to begin with.

I don't have many good memories of this place-at least not any recent ones-but it's still home, and it certainly beats whatever hell's waiting for me next.

"Nancy," DMC bellows from the living room. My hands clenched into fists at his use of the name Mom gave me, and I struggled against the urge to run, or worse yet, fight. If I do either, I know I'll regret it.

DMC's footsteps thunder up the stairs and my heart starts to race. It only took me a couple of minutes to pack, but I've still managed to piss him off. It's a good thing I don't own more stuff. His appearance makes me afraid.

I see him to be deadly and ready to do anything for his money. I needed to be fast in order for him not to scream at me. Even my dad could join him to scream at me.

I head to the door, and my eyes instinctively drift to the empty spot above my bed. Mom's painting used to hang there for as long as I can remember.

It's of a beautiful Nancy flower, the one the spice comes from, and I look at it whenever I feel sad or afraid. I know it's silly, but it makes me feel like Mom's with me. I'm glad it's small enough to fit in my duffel bag because I honestly don't think I could leave without it.

Furthermore, I step out into the living room and DMC is already at the entrance door and glaring at me. He certainly moves fast, even for a Wolf.

"Sorry, sir," my voice trembles. I don't even have to pretend to be the submissive, obedient Wolf Dad made me out to be. I'm so freaked out over everything that's just happened that I will be sick.

"Let's go." DMC gestures toward the stairs. "Toothbrush," I mumble, taking a step toward the bathroom. DMC emits a frustrated growl and I freeze in my tracks. What am I doing?

The pushover Omega that DMC expects, the one who does anything she's told, the one too scared to ever run away, would never do this. She'd have been too overwhelmed by fear to think of things she forgot to pack, like her toothbrush.

I just disobeyed a seven-foot-tall Wolf because I forgot to pack a treated toothbrush! What's wrong with me? Good dental hygiene is so not worth dying for. My toothbrush is unique to me. You do not find such in the markets so easily. When I went back to buy more as a spare, I was unable to get any.

I stand halfway between DMC and the bathroom as he comes closer, and I begin to tremble.

I'm never going to pull this off. DMC is probably going to put guards on me and chain me up in the dungeon.

I'll never escape... never see the light of day... never finish high school or go today... never go to school or go to college... never fall in love... never get married... never have kids. I'll starve to death in a cold, dank basement or bleed out from beatings and torture.

Furthermore, I should just let DMC kill me now and get it over with!

"Go." DMC orders in a voice that sounds deceptively gentle. "Just make it fast."

He doesn't growl or yell, the only ways I thought he knew how to communicate, and his words are barely above a whisper.

His tone sounds soothing, but it's also laced with authority, and my feet take me inside the bathroom before I even have time to think about it.

Looking at his face is fearful, hearing his voice is imaginary, believing him is at your risk. I saw him as a man, who is not diplomatic, doesn't shift grounds, pity is not in his dictionary, love will be far from him, and mercy is not close to him. A bully man I was seeing him to be like.

I grab my toothbrush and the toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash, since I doubt Dad ever uses them, and shove everything into my bag. Given Dad's rotting teeth, genetics are stacked against me, so I need to keep up with my 'brush-floss-disinfect' routine if I want to stay cavity-free.

"Come," DMC orders, and I follow him closer on autopilot, wondering how I can even think about dental hygiene at a time like this.

DMC stops abruptly when he reaches the living room, and I jump back to avoid crashing into him. He growls and I peek around him and gape. I decided to act responsibly so that I do not have a clash with him. My life is almost in his hands, and he is to decide what I should do, where I should be, where I should go, and what I should do next.

Dad is sitting on the couch, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other.

He's acting as if he doesn't have a care in the world, switching channels until he finally settles on the game. He looks up from the TV when he finally notices us and raises a questioning eyebrow.

His relaxation signifies he was a bit free. Owing a debt could be scary and uncomfortable. His worries have reduced drastically since I am to clean up his mess.

He and I briefly make eye contact, but there isn't a shred of guilt on his face. I may be his only child, but he couldn't care less about me.

DMC growls and walks over to the couch, towering over Dad. Suddenly, his right arm shoots out, and he wraps his hand around Dad's neck, lifting him as if he weighs nothing.

Dad's jaw drops, his eyes widen, and he begins to choke. Shouts and cheers echo from the TV, mocking him. He pulls at DMC's arm with both hands, feet kicking out as he tries to break free, but no matter how hard he tries, DMC's grip doesn't waver.

"If I ever catch you playing Poker again, or any card game, or any other activity that will waste your money, I will kill you. Are we clear?" DMC demands, holding dad up at eye level. I guess that explains how Dad came to owe so much money. Although why he'd bet money, he'd never be able to pay back escapes me.

Dad tries to nod, and when that doesn't work, he manages to get out a strangled "yes." He looks so small and helpless, feet dangling high above the ground, arms trying and failing to loosen DMC's grip.

On TV, the announcer drones on as Dad starts to turn blue. I can tell his arms are weakening, and when his eyes start to close, I let out an involuntary gasp. My dad is about to die right in front of me, and I'm not doing anything to stop it. What sort of person does that make me?

Unexpectedly, DMC lets go and Dad comes crashing down onto the brown leather. There are bruises around his neck, but he's still breathing, so he'll live. Because of our superior healing ability,

I know the damage will be gone in minutes and Dad will be as good as new; while I'll still be DMC's slave. It is not an easy task to be a slave, especially when you are not prepared for that or even have knowledge of becoming such.

My mom told me several times that I am her princess and that greater futures are ahead for me. She said I should not panic, but I should always remain resolute. I wondered how all this could work out for me again since I will be a slave to DMC.

"Come," DMC orders, marching past me. I take one last look at Dad, silently begging him to change his mind to save me but he's too busy rubbing his neck to pay me any attention. I look away, hold back tears, and follow DMC out of the house.

There's a dark blue pickup truck parked in the driveway. DMC opens the passenger-side door, lifts me, and tosses me onto the seat as if I were his gym bag; just another possession, bought and paid for.

DMC slams the door shut, and I don't move a muscle, following him with my eyes as he rounds the truck and climbs in. Surprisingly, I saw two young able-bodied guys who entered the back seat.

That made me know that they have been hanging around. Looking at him, he told me they are his boys. He asked me never to be afraid, that no one would ever hurt me. According to him, he always goes out of his pack with the boys for security reasons.

"Seatbelt," DMC growls and buckles up.

I quickly do as he says, and he starts the engine. Then he hits the gas, and the truck tires screech as we race out of the driveway.

I hold on to my seat belt with one hand and cradle my bag with the other. As the truck speeds up, I turn to stare out the window, watching the only home.

Thinking about where I am going and what could come up there? I shouted like something hit me in the middle of the road and he stopped. I jumped out of the car immediately at the bridge.

They all came down, only for armed Young men who came out of the bush, shot at the air, overpowered DMC and his boys, and took me away.

The guys they shot on air to enforce my adoption showed they were well-prepared.

"Who are you guys, why are you blocking our way?" DMC yelled at them as they could bow before him.

"All we need is her; we are here to take her away from you. You can't have her." The lead gang member, who is wearing a mask, spoke.

Looking around, I am the only female. Meaning I am the one who came after. I got confused when I heard them say "her". My heart started panting.

"I am not going with them; please don't give them room to take me away." I helplessly shouted.

"Hey! Calm down and get into the back seat." One of DMC's boys directed me.

Shivering like I am in foul weather under heavy rain, I entered the back seat since the front one had become uncomfortable.

DMC gave them an order to give way. If not, he would crush them, but they wouldn't listen. He requested the gang leader to tell him who they were working for, but he refused.

This was happening at a bridge that had a river, almost like an ocean. They came out of the bush close to the River and followed us up to the bridge.

"We are more than you guys and can push you all inside the River. You have to hand her over to us, or we kill your boys and still go with her." The gang leader spoke while he was vibrating.

I looked through the car window and saw that the river was deep. Pushing someone into the River is to end their life.

DMC kept negotiating with them but they remained adamant. Their resolutions to adopt me were clearer.

I kept watching from the car to see what the great Don Master Cole could do to surpass them. His ability to do so becomes unabated.

"We have waited for too long for you to hand her over to us, but you seem to be stubborn." Says the gang leader

"She is my lady and I have her in place of the money the father owes me." DMC highlighted.

"She is on a pledge, yes, but I wish to make her my wife. Do not take her away." DMC still laments.

His two boys went closer, and they pointed guns at each other. The gang leader was released alongside his other three. They were six in numbers and DMC and his boys were three.

I started thinking about what to do next since I wasn't comfortable joining them in the name of adoption. I opened the door a little and sneaked out. Not only that, but I tried to watch if they would be distracted to enable me to run away but to no avail.

I made a little move like I wanted to urinate.

"If you move an inch I will shoot your leg. Don't try to be funny." One of them pointed a gun at my back as he rebuked me.

"Give me way, I want to urinate, don't you have a mother or a sister?" I scolded him, but that didn't move him.

"Don't you ever hurt her. She is my woman, not yours. She cannot belong to you." That was DMC's voice which gave me some breath.

The other guy came closer to monitor me. He is very tall and dark. So I mean looking at her face. I couldn't urinate again, even though I was pretending to do so.

"Hold her hands, don't let her move further." He spoke in authority.

Behold, he held me tight to himself.

"Stop, you are hurting me." My shout was nothing to them.

DMC tried to come closer but was blocked by the gang Leader.

I looked back and saw a red car far behind us without a number plate. As soon as they carried me up, the car started driving closer.

I struggled to resist them, but it wasn't possible. I tried to fight but they overpowered me.

"Nancy, don't let them take you away. Resist them, you are a strong woman." DMC was giving me a directive that I knew would not hold water.

"Get her in fast," The driver of the red car said as they took me into his car.

They quickly covered my eyes and drove off. I observed, the gang leader and the other two didn't join us.

"Where are you taking me to, release me? I want to urinate." I kept disturbing myself.

"When we get where we are going, you will see where you will be." The driver says.

"Let's stop a bit and allow her to urinate." The one at my left told the driver.

I was asked to go down and urinate as they removed what they used to cover my face. Meanwhile, they handcuffed me to prevent me from running away.

Looking around, no one lives around. We were in the middle of the forest. I couldn't hear the sound of birds.

"Do fast and urinate. Stay at the back of the car to avoid animals from the bush attacking you." The person to my right told me.

"Move to the back and stop time-wasting." The driver shouted at me as I owed him something.

I urinated with fear and went back to the car. Their guns were pointing at me, and I decided to behave myself.

Getting into the car, they didn't cover my eyes again.

"Take this and be cool." offering me an ice cream.

"You want to kill me?" I asked.

What happened to us?" Ray asked.

"Our mission is not to kill you but to fulfill the need of our paymaster." The one to my right told me.

"So who is this your Master and what does he want from me?" I was curious to know.

"Do you think I will answer you?" He removed his face as he responded.

"When the Pay Master sees you, he will explain. You need an ice cream. Take." Showing some concern the one at my left told me.

I took the ice cream from him. Finished it like one who has been hungry for decades.

"Thank you for the offer. It is as if you know I was hungry." Trying to be friends with them, I showed appreciation.

"So tell me your names. Can we be friends?" I asked in humility.

"Jack, Ray, and Ken," the driver gave out the names.

The driver is Ken, the one to my left is Jack, and my right is Ray. Ray appeared to be more hostile than Jack, despite how handsome he was. His words are hurt and could make you lose interest in relating to him.

He offered me the ice cream and from all indications, he bought it with his money, understanding the journey could be too Long.

"How long can we be on the road before getting to where we are going?" I asked.

"We still have more hours to drive to our destination. We will get somewhere and have some food." Jack explained.

Jack brought out a cigarette pack, took one stick, and lit it up.

"I don't like the aroma; it reminds me of me," I begged him not to smoke.

"Your father is a chain smoker, and he often smokes but at home or outside. How do you cope with him?" Ray asked, meaning he knows my Daddy.

"It appears you know a lot about me, tell me. How do you know my father?" I asked, rushing.

"We gamble together, smoke together, and some other naughty things."

"Naughty things like what?" I asked.

"He is not a killer, but he is a womanizer. That's a naughty thing, isn't it?" He asked me with laughter.

"So what about you guys?" I asked a question.

"Are you guys killers?" I asked with fear.

"You are not slaughtered yet I guess?" Jack stated.

"We don't kill and haven't killed. We do our job and hand over to the pay Master and go. He decides what to do with the person." Jack yelled at me.

I noticed he wasn't pleased with the question. His humor changed. That made me understand they are drawn to wasting lives. However, the issues with my Father made me recall the past.

I agreed with them in my mind that my father is promiscuous. Mother complained about it when she was alive, but he kept denying it.

In the past, when Dad took me out, he dropped me off with a caregiver and left with a young lady in a hotel room. He came out sweating like he had done press-ups or some other sports activities. With the eye of a little baby, I didn't know what happened.

Dad, I knew smokes, gambles, and drinks, but didn't know he womanizes, if not for the revelation by them.

"Ken, we are close, slow down." Ray alerted him.

He drove in and parked in front of an eatery. They removed the handcuffs from my hand and asked me to behave.

"Do not try to play smart so that you don't force us to act stupidly," Ray told him in a calm voice.

I nodded my head in acceptance. He held my hand like I was his girlfriend. It was evening and the night was falling.

So many young people are drinking and marrying. The sound of the music moved me. I felt like dancing, but I do not know what to do.

"Can I dance a little?" Ray nodded. I stood up and danced for a few minutes. In the process, somebody came closer to dance with me, and he called himself Roy.

You can dance well. I am Roy and you?" He asked, holding my hands.

"Nice meeting you, Roy. I am Julie."

He signaled the waitress to bring me a cup of red wine. I took a little and kept dancing with him. The red wine tastes good and it's my favorite.

"Do I get you more Julie?" Roy asked, noticing I liked the wine.

"Yes, I need more if you can," I answered him with joy.

I haven't been to parties or clubs in a while. Dancing is part of my hubby, but he doesn't have the means to display it to my certification. Daddy doesn't allow me to go out for fear of people coming after me, her only daughter and child.

Jack had gone out to smoke while Ray and Ken were watching me with keen interest. They ordered some food. There was spaghetti and fish on their table.

Moving forward a bit, Ken stood up and reminded me that I should comply with the agreement.

"Who's he?" Roy asked.

"He is my friend. We are together." I asked him to avoid a clash.

"Your friend is handsome." Roy acknowledged Ken's appearance.

Ken is actually handsome, and his pointed nose is very noticeable. He went back to their seat and continued with his meal. Ray signaled me to come over and place an order.

I love white rice and sauce. I excused Roy to go and eat. He begged me to allow him to pay for my meal, which I gladly granted.

Taking the food to Ken and Ray's table, he waved at me as he left to dance with them.

"Sure you had fun dancing with him?" Ken asked with a smile.

I looked at him and nodded my head. He gave me an unused handkerchief to clean the sweat on my face which I collected.

"You sound carting Ken, don't you?" I asked him with pleasure.

"Sometimes, not always" He answered, pointing at me to continue with my meal.

"Your food may get cold, eat fast, ok." Ken insisted.

"Jack walked in and touched my back. Where have you been?" I asked him.

"To smoke."

"You took time, how many sticks?" I asked Jack.

"Just one, I have been busy observing the environment. I watched you dancing from afar, and I like your steps; it is impressive." Jack declared.

I took time and had my meal and was wondering why we stopped over when the night was falling. From all indications, they would rather not tell me where we are heading and how long it will take us.

I have asked before, but I do not see them even disturbed. Showing me love is to make me feel free and never wanted people to understand what was going on.

"Nancy, let's go. We are going to stay in a hotel nearby." Jack requested.

They ordered me to enter the vehicle when I started questioning them about where they were taking me and what business we had with the hotel.