Kyla’s Secret

Every day, the woman who secretly watched Kyla whenever the opportunity presented itself hoped they would cross paths on campus. But after that first day, it had never happened again. She thought she spotted the lovely reporter a few times from a distance, interviewing students as they sat on a bench under some cherry trees that had begun to bloom, but that was it. She hadn’t seen her again after that—at least not in person. Since Kyla wasn’t a student, she didn’t seem to have much of a routine. She spent most of her time interviewing students and writing. The woman still couldn’t figure out where Kyla went late at night—until she discovered her personal blog. The woman wasn’t surprised the reporter had a blog. Reporters liked to write, after all, and they often did. But she was surprised that most of it had nothing to do with Kyla’s professional life. When she learned Kyla was a lesbian, “shocked” was an understatement. Not that she was any “butch” herself, but Kyla didn’t seem to have a single gay bone in her body. The lovely Hawaiian girl was as feminine as could be—even more so than she was. The woman had long hair and wore makeup just as Kyla did, but she rarely wore skirts or dresses. Her shape wasn’t as curvy as Kyla’s either. As ridiculous as it may have been—since Kyla was from a whole different world and might not even find her attractive—she was delighted to know Kyla was a lesbian. One never had a hundred percent chance of winning over someone of the same sexual orientation, but if they weren’t of the same orientation, the chance was zero. But could she at least chat face-to-face with the girl at some point? How awesome that would be, the woman couldn’t help but think, even though there were always plenty of other fish in the sea. Local fish, that was. But how would she set up a meeting? She never knew when Kyla would be where, and by the time the girl became a bit more predictable, the woman was already home and away from campus. What was disappointing to learn was that Kyla seemed to take a real liking to the dorm’s night watch. She would assume they were having one of their ritual chats at the moment—only it was too early. The woman had no idea where the hell she was. This was the first time Kyla had been out this long in the evening, except for the night she’d accidentally killed Meagan, the talk of the campus. Ah, Meagan Malone. She remembered the smart-mouthed bitch well. She hadn’t recognized her the night of the incident because her face never faced the webcam, and she hadn’t known her name until later either. But when those Have You Seen Me? photos were passed around campus, she remembered her instantly. She told the police what had happened. She’d just returned from a break when she caught Meagan smoking a joint behind a tree. She approached the girl and ordered her to put it out. “What you do off campus is your business, but none of that is allowed on campus.” Instead of complying, the girl had been rude and disrespectful. “Go to hell, old lady!” she’d hissed. “Go back to your own damn country and give orders to your own people.” A teacher had overheard the outburst and began to approach them. The teacher must’ve had some influence over the girl because she put the joint out the instant she saw him. “Everything okay here?” “Oh, just fine,” said the woman. Meagan had turned to her with a look of surprise. “Just smoking a little joint is all.” Now Meagan looked livid, and the teacher frowned with disappointment. “But all that’s necessary at this time is a verbal warning. No need to write anyone up unless it happens again, right?” the woman said with a smirk at Meagan. The girl simply glared at her, then turned to walk away. “Have a nice day,” she called back over her shoulder. Now, knowing who it was that had been killed, the woman had one more reason not to rat on Kyla. ________________________________________ Kyla’s eyes slowly opened, and she was immediately aware of the strange sensations coursing through her sore body. Her head throbbed and she felt groggy as hell. Her mouth was bone dry, and even her breathing sounded funny to her own ears. As she struggled to swim to the surface of consciousness and open her eyes all the way, she was alarmed and baffled as to what held her in such a deep fog. And why was it so dark? Had she fallen asleep early? Then she remembered the terror in the convenience store. Her heart took off at a painful gallop as panic surged. But she’d escaped, hadn’t she? She’d heard sirens, she’d run out the back door of the store… and then what? Then a heavy object had struck her over the head from behind, hadn’t it? Kyla reached up and gently touched the back of her head. The large lump she felt confirmed her memory. Where the hell was she now?! Despite a head that felt like it was filled with rocks, she struggled to pull herself into a sitting position. She strained to see through the darkness, but all she saw was blackness in every direction. A sharp pain shot through her head from the back to the front and caused her to cry out. “She’s awake,” someone said. Then the room slowly flooded with light as the sound of metal rattled and vibrated. It took a moment to register that she was in some kind of garage, and the metallic rattling was its door being pushed open. “What the hell? Where the fuck am I?” she screamed, now fully alert. She recognized the two men from the hold-up, but not the Hispanic man who was with them. “Relax,” the man said in a heavy Mexican accent. “You’re going to make us a lot of money.” It hit her then—where she was and why she had been taken. No way. Just no fucking way! She’d rather be shot dead than work as a sex slave in some kind of makeshift brothel like this. The hold-up men snickered, and the Mexican added, “You’re in the newbie’s section. As soon as you’re trained and fully understand the importance of following the rules, you’ll get to live with the experts. Or should I say the sexperts?” The men all burst out laughing. Kyla eyed the bastards with sickened disgust as the reality of her situation hit home. Then, before she realized what she was doing, she bolted from the bed and tried to charge past her captors and out the door. She didn’t get far. They shoved her back onto the bare mattress on the floor of what appeared to be a cross between a small garage and a large shed within a larger building. “Rule number one,” said the Mexican guy, kicking her side with his snakeskin boot. A whoosh of air escaped Kyla’s lungs. “Never attempt to leave this room unless you have to piss or shit—and you ask permission beforehand.” Kyla remained silent as he stared down at her with cold, calloused eyes. He kicked her again. “Understood?” “Yes!” Kyla gasped once she caught her breath. “There’s no getting out of this, bitch. You work for us now. And every man who wants to fuck your brains out.” “And get full-blown AIDS? I have AIDS, in case you give a shit,” she lied. The man flashed the most evil smile she had ever seen. “Most of our paying customers use rubbers. If not, that’s their problem. We only provide them with sexual services, not medical remedies for any health problems they may later face.” Kyla stared at them, sick to her stomach. “You guys are a bunch of sick fucks who can go to hell and just—” The snakeskin boot struck again, harder this time. Kyla yelped in pain. “You bastards are going to pay for this!” she cried once she was able. “Feisty one, aye?” one of the convenience store robbers said. “The more I have to bruise you for your fucking mouth and disruptive behavior, Miss Rembler, the less appealing you’ll be to our customers. Defective goods have a habit of being dumped permanently, so I suggest you get your act together now and do as you’re told if you want to live,” said the Mexican. So the shitsters knew her name, huh? Didn’t surprise her. She’d taken her handbag to the store, and it contained her ID. “Then again,” the man hissed, lowering his voice, “Maddy could always drown you for a few minutes here and there to get you to behave without leaving bruises. Maybe soak you in a tub full of ice? Would you like that, bitch? Huh? Would you?!” “No!” “Then get in the fucking shower and let Maddy fix you up. And by the way, you’re no longer Kyla Rembler. You’re just Angelica.” Kyla slowly lifted her head and eyed the men with bewilderment. Who the hell was Maddy?