A Man of His Word

Chapter Five: Protect Me From Harm

I was starving, but to eat meant that I had to walk ten feet through the house where Gruff and Blue would be inside the living room. How I wanted to stay safe but also eat, how could I trust that Gruff wouldn't lay a hand on me? Sure, Boss had said that the boys knew the rules; but even Chuck disobeyed him—and he touched me first before Boss eliminated the problem. I wanted to make sure that there was no chance that Gruff could touch me.

I couldn't guarantee that I could walk in the kitchen empty-handed, no risk at all—that was a naive thought. Hopeful, but naive. I had wished that Boss taught me some fighting moves for an easy take down, now that would have helped a lot. At least make me feel confident to at least open the damn door.

Every time I approached that wooden door, my stomach turned nauseatingly, gripped by fear, and I'd run back to the bed. Well, I guess I'm gonna die of starvation. I looked at the clock. I wasn't sure when Boss left the cabin, but I knew that it had been daylight; the sun had set a couple of hours ago. The rays of sunshine that poured in from the bay window just above my bed now poured in glowing streaks of moonlight. I laid on the bed, staring out of through the glass.

My stomach growled loudly. I pushed back the thought of food.

I thought of Boss.

Scars across his mouth. Strong jawline. Bunny. Actually, he didn't look half-bad in a police uniform.

I won't touch you...unless you want me to.

Interesting choice of words, Boss.

Within minutes, I fell asleep on the bed, the last sight I had was of the full moon.

I awoke with a start at the sound of my name, "Costlee."

I forgotten what had happened. I opened my eyes slowly then—

I let out a terrified scream, pushed at the shoulder of the sight of blurred white, black, and red—What the fuck? A pair of strong hands grabbed my flailing arms and pinned them to my own chest to stop me from resisting, strength that clearly overpowered my own. I thought Gruff finally decided to break that rule after several hours, where was the restraint?

I kicked, I squirmed under his grasp.

"Bunny, it's me."

I shot my eyes wide open. I wasn't sure if I was relieved to see Boss...That was him? But why was his face covered in clown makeup? His eyes were shadowed with black powder; red lipstick covered his mouth and his scars; and the rest of his face was greased with white...something. I stared at him, mouth agape.

"Hi," he said pleasantly, still arresting me to the bed.

"Why are you wearing makeup?" I hissed at him. "And why are you so scary?"

What? Was there an easier way to say that?

He laughed maniacally, which made it all the more appropriate why he decided upon 'clown' makeup, but the sight of still scared the living shit out of me. His tongue flicked to the corner of his mouth to moisten his lips. Lipstick was a hell of a desensitizer to the mouth; it sucked out all the moisture. It was more a tick than it was to rebuttal the dryness.

I partly missed him in his absence, but it startled me back to reality to see how dangerous and horrifying he looked like this. He had set aside the police uniform as well. He had come to my room wearing a buttoned up green vest over a blue, thinly-striped long sleeve shirt. His sleeves were hiked up to his elbows revealing thinly muscled forearms; a purple tie was tied loosely around his neck. A long, purple trench coat draped over the side of the edge of my bed.

Boss slid off the bed, as did I.

"Wardrobe change?" I commented off-handedly.

"Like it?"

"It's an interesting choice, boss." Color patterns don't really match, but actually wow.

"Shucks," he remarked apathetically. He gave me a hard look. I felt automatically anxious—definitely a default state of being for me. But the way he seemed to stare at me with such scrutiny—"You been in here all day, haven't you?"

"Yes," I answered him uncertainly. Wait, was it a test? No, wait, how could he tell just by looking at me?

"Always play it safe, huh, kitten?" Boss purred.

All these pet names.

"Yes...?" I said. I had been calm before, but perhaps I misinterpreted his suggestion to stay inside the bedroom. I thought it had been a choice. Wasn't it a choice? But he said I could choose freely; he said.

"It's damn near midnight." Boss said.

I stayed silent. What, you want me to say 'yes' over and over again until you ask me a question. Do you want me to ask you a question? Well, sir, I have many; but clearly, asking questions is something that you don't like so—

"I...'m not sure exactly what you want me to say...or do." I stated awkwardly. I stayed frozen on the bed. So far, being transparent about what I was feeling seemed to have gotten me this far. Why pretend that I was an intelligent person like he thought I was? I had a very photographic memory—That was the end of my intelligence scheme. I lived off bundled nerves and instinct, and overthinking—

My god, the overthinking.

"What do you want from me, Boss?" I asked him weakly. I felt as if I would fall apart just from fear alone. Not even Dr. Crane could insight this much fright in me. "What do you want me to do, huh? Why am I here?"

Boss looked as me as if I had really lost my mind.

"Cabin fever already? It's been less than twenty-four hours—"

"Just tell me what you want from me!" I snapped at him, taking a step forward.

Boss smiled widely at me.

"Have you not put it together yet?" he said.

"Put what together?" I exclaimed incredulously. "You kidnapped me in the middle of a regular day at work. You took me! You didn't take any money, you didn't take anything! You took the keys to the lockboxes that aren't useful at all unless we are at the bank!"

"You," he said threateningly, slowly stepped forward, "should probably adjust your tone. Quickly."

I swallowed my indignity. I reminded myself of the pocket knife that he had used to threaten me with in the van, and suddenly I wasn't so angry about the lack of instructions. Boss continued to step toward me, and I regretted shouting at him. I attempted to put distance between us. It wasn't working very well.

"Sir," I attempted at appeasement, "I'm sorry, I was just...I stayed in the bedroom because I was afraid of your guards."

The truth will set you free, isn't that what the teachers in school always said.

Boss shook his head.

"You look nervous," he said.

"For obvious reasons," I said, wishing that I was alone again.

"No, see, it's not so obvious, do you know why?"

He took a few more steps toward me, I walked around the invisible barrier between us to step toward the bathroom, just in case I had to run in; I could just the door really fast if he wanted to lunge at me. Boss's eyes followed me as I circled around.

"I didn't mean to yell," I felt my voice lose its ferocity with every word.

"You know what, Costlee? I think that you should be...a little more grateful...for my hospitality."

"I am, I assure you," I nodded quickly.

The bathroom door was right behind me. I sneaked my hand behind my back, feeling for the door handle.

"I don't think that you are; see, I know that you're going to run in there"—he pointed a finger at the bathroom—"You're afraid of me."

"I don't want you to hurt me."

"Why would I?" Boss said with mocked surprise.

I stared at him. My knees felt like they would buckle underneath me. I wanted to turn the knob so I could dip into the bathroom and lock the door; my mind told me to go ahead and do it, what else could happen? But the better part of me that had kept me alive all these years in Gotham, that gut instinct, told me to stay still. If you move, it'll make him angry.

I released the door knob, knowing I'd lose my chance to run from him.

Boss crossed the section of the room that kept us apart. He stood so close to me, I could smell the mixture of gasoline and smoke on his clothes. Boss leaned his head in toward me, where I could see the white grease paint on his face cracking to show the familiar peach-colored flesh beneath.

"I know that you're afraid, bunny," said Boss with a voice that started as consoling, yet it lowered dangerously, "but don't ever think that it's ever appropriate to raise your voice to me. I alone am the only one keeping you safe from one hard fucking of a lifetime," he pointed his eyes to the bedroom door where I knew Gruff was probably posted up, trying to eavesdrop.

I nodded.

"At any point in time, they could have barged in while you were asleep," Boss reminded me. "It's only because they are afraid of me that they won't touch you. But," he clicked his tongue, which flicked out a bit flirtatiously along the corner of his mouth, "eventually, they'll grow a little restless."

"Please..." I uttered quietly, fearing the worst. "Please, don't let them..."

Please don't make me say it out loud.

Boss caressed the line of my jaw.

"They would probably think twice if..."

"If what...?" I whispered.

"If you convinced them that it would mean death, should they touch what isn't theirs."

I stared at him.

"You said you'd give me a choice," I told him breathlessly.

"I am." Boss nodded. "This one of those circumstances, as they all are, that no matter what you choose, your decision still benefits me."

"You could just tell them."

"They're visual learners. But I'll let you decide how you want to persuade them. I'm an easy-going guy, so whatever you want to do, I'll just play along. Improv is, after all, one of the best comedies of this century."

I bit the inside of my cheek thoughtfully. I'd do whatever it took for the guards to keep away from me. And as far as my situation began to progress, and although I feared his rage more than anything, Boss was my safest option in the middle of this forest.

"Well, I haven't eaten," I suggested carefully. "Perhaps, I should go to the kitchen, and...You come with me?"

Boss smiled widely.

"Whatever you want to do, bunny."

I slowly reached for his other hand, wrapped my fingers around his wrist. I inhaled slowly, and then inched away from him, still keeping a hold of him. We strode to the bedroom door, where I opened it. I heard footsteps scurry away. I was right about Gruff. When I opened the door, I strode to the kitchen, Boss striding right behind me.

Gruff and Blue sat in the living room on a couch; they watched us with hard gazes, observing our body language to understand the seemingly interesting relationship between their boss and his hostage.

So when I went to the refrigerator, I found something that I could stomach, despite the desire to throw up into the kitchen sink. Boss posted himself up against the kitchen counter, arms dangling lazily over the side of the counter top. I quickly made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, put it on a plate.

With a quick side-glance toward the guards to make sure they were still watching us, I stood in front of Boss.

"Thank you, Boss," I said loud enough where they could hear.

Then, hoping that for the love of God that this wasn't one of Boss's tests, I leaned in, and pressed my lips against his in a believable kiss. It was intended as a peck on the lips, but I felt his tongue slightly nudge between my lips. I didn't want to break the charade, so I welcomed his tongue to break through my lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. It was he who decided to pull away. I glanced in my peripheral vision to see Gruff's already miserable looking face take a turn for the worse; and Blue shook his head dejectedly.

Boss licked his lips.

"Well, that's quite a grateful gesture," Boss remarked cheerfully.

"Hell of a lady you got there," joked Blue good-naturedly from the side lines, like a sports player whom had just lost the game.

I smiled at Boss, pleased that they bought the act. Yet, I felt something conflicting that I couldn't figure out just yet. I hadn't been kissed in a very long time, and perhaps I had forgotten what it felt like to feel a human's contact in that intimate gate.

I picked up my sandwich plate. Boss remained leaning against the counter top with a smug smirk that twisted along the corners of his mouth. All right, Boss. You go ahead and feel good about yourself, then. I couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at my mouth when I gave him a final look, turning to walk back to my bedroom.

Boss protected me from harm, but it was the strangest strategy that I had ever seen. I expected when he walked into the vault that I would have been shot dead there. Perhaps I was safer here than in Gotham while Boss would doing whatever he was planning that included smelling of gasoline and smoke.