"I don't know his name" I say as I rest my head in my hands frustrated

"They use to be in a relationship.... if you could call it that. He...He hurt Kurt" I force myself to tell the police the whole story everything Kurt had ever told me about the other guy.

"His name is Jackson" I say recalling Kurt saying it once. Not really to inform me of his name but more of him just saying it as he told me something about him.

The police are hovering over me it seems. One is looking at a picture I had took of Kurt the other day, another writing down what I'm saying while a third one is in Kurt's room going through his things and many others are spread out throughout the house doing various things that are somehow supposed to help bring Kurt home.

"How could you leave like that? It made me very upset... and mad" I he says as he circles me I'm still laying on the floor unable to move pain shooting though every inch of my body in jolts making my body shake.

"I-I'm sorry" I choke out my throat dry and sore. The apology is a lie I haven't been happier since I left Blaine is the best thing that's happened to me... Blaine! I feel a small spark of hope shooting threw me. Blaine will slave me... I told him about Jackson.

"Answer me" He yells pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry sir, what did you say?" I ask my submissive ways returning without my approval.

"Are you going to be a good boy and stay or will I have to make sure of it?" He asks and my eyes widen.

"I-I'm going to be good sir" I say quickly as I try to set up but the pain in my chest won't let me. 

I fall back hitting my head off the floor painfully.

"I will be back don't move" he says with a evil grin knowing I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to.

How many Jacksons could possible live in New York City right? 63.... and 21 of them are between the ages for 18-25 so they are starting there. They are starting with the ones that live the closest. It's only 10 in the morning and they have been to and searched 4 homes of people named Jackson. They don't have enough to get a search warrant but everyone so far has let them in without one. I'm setting in the police car as they enter another house. This is the 5th one and every time we pull up to a new house my stomach forms a new layer of knots.  I'm not supposed to be here, but after a very lengthy argument they finally settled on the fact that when they find Kurt I will be needed.

It's been a week. Jackson hasn't let me eat more than a piece of bread for each meal and I get two glasses of water a day. After the second day he very painfully moved me to my bed, I'm still debating on which is softer the floor or my bed. He hasn't forced me to walk or do anything else knowing I'm unable to even sit. The first few days I held out hope that the police would burst through my door at any moment with Blaine right behind him ready to swoop me up and take me home. But as each day passes I become less and less sure that it is ever going to happen. That I am ever going to get out of this hell hole again... well alive that is.

My finger had only been dislocated which I fixed myself  my arms is only sprained but now I can only make small slow circles with it but I still don't have full range of motion.

My ankle is also only sprained and today I was able to turn is slightly confirming my theory.

My ribs on the other hand are broke. I have had my rib broken countless times each time it becomes a little harder for me to breath. My fear is this is going to be what truly kills me in the end.

It has been a week today that Kurt was taken from me. They have checked the 21 houses that they had planned on checking, each one let them in to search and none of them had Kurt. The police are starting to think he may have run away, He wouldn't have done that I know Kurt he was happy here. But they keep pointing things out to me like he has my credit card and he lived with me long enough for him to get well. They are beginning to think the stories Kurt told me were lies. That he made them up so I would give him a place to live. The bad part is the more they say it the more I'm starting to believe it.

"Blaine" I here Detective Johnson say from the doorway of the kitchen. He had stopped by to check Kurt's room one last time to make sure they hadn't missed anything the other fifty times they had checked.

I raise my head looking at him but his eyes don't meet mine. My stomach drops and my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest, something is wrong.

"We traced your credit card. It was used at a gas station in New Jersey" He says and my eyes widen.

"W-was it Kurt?" I almost yell standing up walking over to him quickly.

"We're not sure, the gas station didn't have a working cameras outside so as of now were don't know if it's him or someone else using your car. We're going to keep a close eye on it and see if it is used again. Whoever it is will slip up eventually.

I'm lying on my bed trying to rest when I hear him come in. It has to be late maybe midnight he smells beer and fear runs through my body.

"Your my property now boy" He says as I kneel in front of him. My eyes widen in surprised and excitement. Oddly enough the thought of being owned turns me on.

"Your property?" I ask slowly no sure how to feel about this.

"Sir, you address me now as sir slut!" Jackson says with a harsh slap to my cheek I gasp, He has never hit me before.

"Jackson..." I say my feelings about this whole thing beginning to change quickly.

"You do not call me that anymore bitch" He yells and another slap hits my cheek this one harder than the last.

"Y-Yes Sir" I say looking down at the ground.

I feel his hand slide under my chin forcing me to look up at him out eyes meeting.

"Very good boy" He gins almost evilly at me

When I came to I was alone again, I had a flashback. The first flashback I have had in weeks but this time I'm not pulled out by Blaine's warm hand rubbing my back as his arms are pulled tightly around me.

Instead I'm lying in my bed and now naked my eyes widen as I look around and see the in a messy pile on the other side of the room.

How long was I out? What did he do to me?

I curl up in a tight ball and like every night for the past week I cry myself to sleep.