September 29th 1994~ She's in an apartment filled with an unsavory group of people. The living room is filled with drugs, and money. She ignores the urge to run as far, and as fast as possible. She takes a deep breath and tries not to breakdown. The ringleader eyes the guy sitting next to her. The young man next to her, who she knew could be no older than sixteen, gets up, and goes to the other side of the room. The ringleader sits down next to her.
"Babe why are you so on edge? Calm down," he tells her.
"Sorry. I'm just not used to... being so well taken care of," she lies.
"Guys it's time," he tells them.
Her heart sinks. The room clears out. "I know that some of them can be intimidating," he says smoothly.
"Not at all."
"You don't have to be so tough. I'll take care of you. You don't have to worry about a thing, Jenny."
"What do you want in return?"
"I just want to be taken care of," he admits.
"And what exactly does that entail Calvin?"
"Cook, and clean, and satisfy all of my manly needs."
"I see."
"Do you want to be my girl, or not? You know that there are ten more in line, just waiting for your place."
"I know. I'm just not used to having such a successful guy in my life."
"Jen just relax."
"How can I relax? You're going out with the crew later, aren't you?"
"Yeah, of course."
"So how can I relax? I don't know if you're going to come back."
"Jen, I'm bulletproof."
"No one is bulletproof Calvin."
"I am," he promises.
His hand touches her leg. She stares into his eyes. He starts to massage her shoulders.
"I'm not in the mood," she tells him.
"Jen we've been together for two weeks. I think that I've been pretty reasonable. It's time for you to take care of me."
She gets off the couch. She moves towards the kitchen. He grabs her by the arm. "Jen," he follows her, "I'm not a bad guy. I know that you don't like what I'm doing for a living, but I'll be getting out of the game real soon. Then it will be me and you livin it up on easy street, I promise."
She purses her lips, "Calvin. I..."
"Don't argue with me, please. I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm sorry, but I just got out of a relationship and..."
"Stop. This is going to happen tonight, or I'll put you back on the street, right where I found you," he warns.
She leans against the sink, with her back turned to him. He begins kissing her neck. She fights back the tears. She grips the counter around the sink, as if it can protect her, save her, stop him.
"Stop," she begs.
"Stop? Jen that word is not in my vocabulary."
"Please," she pleads.
"I can't."
"I... I don't know where you've been."
"You think that just because of my business connections I sleep around? You think that I put it down where it doesn't belong? I'm not into prostitutes. I'm clean. I'm not idiot. You're safe Jen. I wouldn't want to give you something."
"So you're saying that I'm protected?"
"Ain't nothing going to come between me and you," he answers.
"I think that I should go," she tells him.
That's when she feels the blade against her back. She tries to move, but the knife just digs deeper.
"Just do what I tell you, and everything will be fine."
"I don't like being told what to do."
He draws the knife under her shoulder blade until she bleeds. She gasps, but she doesn't dare move. He spins her around.
"Are you going to play nice, or am I going to have to hurt you?" He puts his palms on the wall behind the sink. She finds herself pinned between him and the sink. Without a second thought she slips under his arms. He races past her, and locks the door. He comes towards her. "Don't," she begs.
"I don't like this," he tells her.
"You expect me to believe that this doesn't give you some sort of sick pleasure?"
His jaw clenches and he throws the knife into the wall behind him. He moves towards her so quickly that she can't react. He tosses her over his shoulder, and races into the bedroom. He slams the door, and locks it as she tries to wriggle loose. He throws her on the bed, and pulls a pair of handcuffs out of the draw of the bedside stand. He smiles, "A parting gift from my last run in with the law," he tells her as he handcuffs her to the bedpost.
She gasps for air. She looks around the room, and finds that she's in her own bed. She flips on the lamp, and tries to catch her breath. She knows that sleep is not going to come her way again that night. She climbs out of bed, and goes into the kitchen. She makes herself a cup of chamomile tea, and curls up on her couch with the remote. She refuses to close her eyes, not wanting to go back to that nightmare, that reality.
She picks up her phone just after sunrise, knowing he'd be awake.
"Goren," he answers.
"Join me for breakfast?"
"You buying?"
"I'll drive, you buy."
"Pancakes?"
"Do you have to ask?"
"Guess not."
"I'll be there in twenty."
"Alex you ok?"
"Fine. Just wanted to talk to you."
"I'll be waiting."
"Bye, Bobby," she hangs up.
When she arrives he notices the deep, dark circles under her eyes. When they reach the sidewalk outside his building he holds out his hand, palm up. She hands him the keys without a word.
"Didn't sleep last night?" he questions as she closes the car door.
"No. I had... I just couldn't sleep, too much on my mind."
"Wanna talk about it?"