Chapter 6 Micah.

As if being auctioned off wasn't enough. I was given strict instructions by those gangsters to do as said, and if I dared disobey, I would be killed, not only me but my mother and pathetic father!

And now what? I'm being commanded by an autistic guy who just switched mode.

Although I was left aghast at how he said those words clearly without stuttering or talking like one who's suffering from ASD, I stood still, not attempting to follow him.

I'm done being an obedient pup!

He turned back, raising those familiar blue eyes which resembled those of Adam, but I was still in my stern gaze.

"Well..." He called.

"Mr Sull---" I opt for him to remind me of his name, and suddenly he drifted back to his autistic state, and my eyelashes could come off from my eye at how I raised them surprisingly at him.

"Dear, are you beginning to converse with Micah?" Mrs Stone walked forward, and I took a quick glimpse at her, then back to her son, who was having me crack my head at the sudden change of disorder.

"She... won't check my room out." The autistic guy stammered, and his mother gave me a friendly look.

"Is that so, Micah?" She smiled at me while I tried to get used to what was happening.

"Huh---" I couldn't even process my words well.

"Please be good to him, he's trying his best to be sociable." Mrs Stone muttered to me, and I smiled in return, glancing at the blue-eyed guy whose name I can't even remember.

"Let's go." I offered standing up, and the guy smiled at his mother, his brows not giving it a rest at flickering.

He led the way, climbing on the well-furnished stairs, making some noisy footsteps that had me disliking him at that moment.

I glanced back, and his mother ushered me to hold him as he climbed the stairs, and I smirked internally, glancing back at her son.

What am I? From sex-slut-for-hire to babysitter? Or an autistic nanny? Jesus Christ!

He opened the door for me, and I bit my lips, finding it weird to enter his bedroom because every man's bedroom that I enter is because I'm hired to come sleep with them.

"Get in." His voice was thick, and I glanced at him, seeing that he was no longer acting autistic.

Probably he's a come-and-go autistic patient.

"To do what?" I fired at him. "Am I to serve you in the bedroom as well?" I asked sarcastically, checking him out.

Well, he's hot.

Yes, I had to admit it with his oceanic blue eyes and comb-over black hairstyle.

He was wearing a white shirt that stopped at his knees, and the rest of his legs were naked, showing off his spectacular biceps.

I must say, he's my type. But am I going to be fucking an autistic dude who might rant me out to his parents?

"We will see about that." He finally answered my question, and I scoffed at him, wondering what kind of autistic patient he was.

I entered his room, looking around while he shut the door behind me, giving me some time to explore the room with my eyes.

There was a medium-sized bed with a closet at one side and a door, which I assumed to be the bathroom.

On the other side, there was this weird, huge bookshelf with well-arranged books. A chair and table were beside the bookshelf, making it seem as though it was a study room.

"Are you done with staring?" He threw the question at me, and I rolled my eyeballs facing him.

"I still don't get why you want me in your bedroom," I said, unable to get rid of my negative thoughts.

"What do you think?" He mentioned, and I gave a self-satisfied smile, walking closer to him, but I was wise enough not to get too close.

Who knows if he might get back to his autistic self and scream, attracting the attention of his mother and his rude sister, whom I already dislike. "You don't only want me as an assistant, right?" I say, raising a finger, and I dare put it on his chest. "What a nice chest that you have there," I commented, amused at how muscular his chest was.

"You're playing with me." He pronounced, his face written with seriousness, and I liked it.

In short, I wish to run my hand on that pretty face of his and his lips... Damn! This psycho is crazily sexy.

"What? Aren't I here to serve you? Better we get something done before your maniac..." I paused. "Autistic episode." I reworded with a seductive smile.

"I see you're more forward than I thought." He said, grabbing my hand in a tight grip, before I could groan, he dragged me closer to the bookshelf, and God knows what he did that had the bookshelf making a sound, opening.

I raised my surprised eyes at this dude whose name I still can't remember, his name, but he wasn't even looking at me.

Before I knew it, I was walking down some iron staircase, with him still dragging me. I bet my wrist is already red from how tight he was holding it.

He finally let go of my wrist, but I wasn't concerned about that as I ran my eyes around the dark room he brought me to, my heart beating and multiple thoughts running through me.

Is he a hired killer? Or a patient who derives joy in killing females like me? Or--- I was stepping backward in fear, thinking that this surveillance or Sullivan of a guy is a true psycho when the light finally came on, brightening the underground room.

I immediately glanced at him, seeing that he was pulling off his shirt, and I didn't even spare him a stare as I looked back at the room standing in front of me.

There was a king-sized bed which had a canopy in the middle, unlike the upper bedroom, and a wooden wardrobe that had iron doors with a drawer at one side of the room.

There were handcuffs, rope, tape, and cable ties on the drawer and I didn't even bother to check the remaining equipment on the cupboard as my eyes ran to the left side of the bed where there was a huge cage that could fit three adult people and there was two cushion placed side by side with an iron cuff that was hanging from the roof of the cage.

There was also a door beside the cage that looked like the unpainted wall of the bedroom, and overall, the room gave off a dark aura that would have made me scream if I hadn't been a sex slut.

I met with the eyes of Sullivan, and he was looking emotionless at me; he was topless with different tattoos designed on his body, and it felt as if I was with the real demon himself. His shorts were hanging from his waist to his knees, and I could see his abs and all, but that wasn't the case. I'm still confused about why I'm standing in this godforsaken place and staring at him like a dumbass.

I couldn't find the right word to converse with him, and all I could do was stare directly into his blue orb, still trying to process what to say because right now, I'm going insane at what I just saw.