I OWN YOU.

CHAPTER TWO

"I-it’s my dad… he called to check in."

My breath became unsteady and noisy. My eyes were begging God on my behalf, silent because they were too teary and pitiful to speak.

Tyler bent over, picked up my phone, and scrolled through it.

"Evans, do you have something to say to me? Because I think now is the right time. And as a matter of fact, why would you call an unknown number 'Dad'?" he asked nonchalantly, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"I-I was called by a record label for some stupid audition. I didn’t consent, of course, not without your permission." It was the most desperate lie I had ever told.

His jaw tightened, and his face lit up with rage. I could feel the heat radiating from him, as I stood there, naked and dripping with water.

"You know the one thing I hate most is you lying to me."

He began moving toward me quietly, his fists clenched as if ready to pounce.

"Please Tyler, I didn’t lie to you! It was just a stupid record label. Maybe they found one of my old videos online or something. I swear on my life, Tyler!"

I couldn't afford to blow my only chance at freedom.

He drew me close to his bare chest, gently rubbed my hair, and whispered into my ear.

"I own you, Evans. I own all of you. So don’t you dare play with me."

I gasped for air in his grip. I was weak, vulnerable, and shivering.

"Now go wash up. You disgust me." He flung my phone onto the bed and turned his back to me, heading for the door.

I ran back to the bathroom, clutching my chest as if my heart might fall out if I didn't hold it in place.

My face was flushed and my eyes burned. I climbed back into the tub of foamy water until my breath returned to normal.

After a few minutes in the chilly water, I dozed off, unaware of my body still submerged.

It was past midnight when I was jolted awake by Tyler barging through the door.

I hurried out, a white towel tied around my chest.

Tyler was already sprawled on the bed, fast asleep and snoring loudly. He was drunk. It didn't happen often, but this was one of those rare times.

I sat at the dressing table and began drying my hair. In the mirror, I looked pale and hollow.

My mind drifted back to the time when I was happy, before I became a prisoner in an attempt to save my father’s life.

As I was lost in the past, my phone lit up with a notification.

It was an email from The Voice Record Label:

Greetings, Evans Halls,

Time of Audition: 11:00 AM

Date: February 25th, 2026

Venue: Westside Conference Center, California.

Have a good morning.

That was it. What was I going to do?

My parents and I had lived in Phoenix before moving to New York after my mother died of leukemia. I was barely eighteen then, and her death shattered my father.

It took away his humanity, especially toward me, though I never stopped loving him. He turned to drinking and gambling after losing his job.

I couldn't go to college because of it. I would have been sent to a foster home if I hadn't already been eighteen, because he stopped taking care of me entirely.

I started working in bars, sometimes as a bartender, sometimes as a singer.

Sometimes I served my dad tequila shots and watched him collapse in his own vomit.

Two years passed, and then came a Sunday evening when a group of men burst into our house.

They held my father at gunpoint, demanding a package he had failed to deliver. That was when I realized my father was involved with drugs, too.

I held my breath, hiding behind a door, until I saw the man with the gun prepare to pull the trigger. I panicked.

"Please don’t hurt my dad! Please, we’ll find a way to repay you, p-please…" I cried out, stepping from my hiding spot. My father looked oblivious, staring at me blankly.

"Well, well, well. Now, who is this munchkin that looks so edible? Terry Halls, you’ve got a daughter?"

That was Tyler Perry.

He was sitting with his legs crossed, flanked by three tough-looking men in black suits. He wore a black hat and dark shades, sporting a strangely innocent smile.

His muscles were evident beneath his clothes, and his face radiated dominance and danger.

He stood and walked toward me with a predatory grace. He was about six feet tall with an overwhelming aura. He looked young; maybe twenty-eight.

"Now, who do we have here?" He gently tilted my jaw up with his long fingers. He removed his shades, exposing dark brown eyes that looked almost like a puppy's. He was hauntingly good-looking.

"Please don’t hurt us," I whispered.

"Quiet, Evans! You don’t know what’s going on! I told you to stay inside!" I could hear the bitterness in my father’s voice. I knew he still loved me enough to want to protect me; he was just broken by the past.

"What is your name, young girl?" Tyler’s voice deepened, making me shiver.

"Evans," I responded.

"Good. I wanted to hear it from you. Anyway, you know your dad is going to die here and now if he doesn't produce what belongs to me, don't you?"

"We could pay you back! I work every day and I have savings, and my dad works hard too. Just give us some time!" I blurted out, trying to sound confident.

"Oh no, no, no. I don’t want your tiny money," he cut me short, his voice almost playful. He walked back to his chair, sat down, and watched me.

"T-then w-what do you want?" I stammered.

"You."

Silence hung in the air for thirty seconds. My father looked at me pitifully, blood dripping from his nose.

"I-I don’t understand," I muttered.

"You want to help your father, don’t you? So, in exchange for his life, I’m going to marry you, Evans."

"No! Don't do this, sir! Kill me instead of taking my daughter!" my dad protested.

"Oh no, I’m not taking her as a hostage. I’m taking her as a wife. And you know you aren't allowed to bargain with me, Terry. I could kill you right now and still take her with me."

Tyler’s voice shifted from playful to deadly serious. My dad began to weep. I was ready to do anything to save him.

"So, miss, would you like to marry me, or watch me blow your dad’s brains out?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"I will marry you," I answered, tears streaming down my face. My dad’s eyes locked with mine for a long moment before Tyler’s voice echoed again.

"Very well. Terry’s got a loyal daughter."

Tyler was thirty then, driven by wealth but devoid of empathy. I was only twenty when I became a prisoner in a loveless marriage to save my father. This audition in California was my only way out. But how?