Warning: Rated R for language.
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"Get up." I opened my eyes and immediately my head was flooded with pain. I moaned and buried my head into my arm. Now that I was conscious, I could feel not only the sharp pain in my head, but also the ache of my jaw and the same raw throbbing between my legs. "I said, get up." Rough hands yanked and dumped me unceremoniously off the bed and onto the wooden floor.
"I feel sick."
"Look at this fuckin' mess," he muttered. His sheets were stained with blood, and the sight made me feel nauseous all over again. "If I had known you were virgin, maybe I wouldn't have bothered." I stood up shakily, gathering my dress up from the floor with a studied concentration. Do not throw up in here, please please please..."Here," he grabbed my hand and shoved a dollar into my fist. "Get yourself another petticoat."
"Thanks," I whispered, and promptly ran to the washroom to vomit in the sink.
"Guess I'm not the only one who don't handle liquor well, huh?" David Jacobs was perched on the edge of the tub, a sickly green color in his cheeks and a wry smile on his lips.
"Guess not," I managed a weak smile before throwing up again. My head was pounding.
"Well, well, well." This time it was the unmistakable whine of Wolf Adams, and it did nothing to relieve my headache. "Doxy had quite the night, didn't she?"
"My name. Isn't. Doxy." I gritted my teeth; it wasn't just his mere voice that was grating on my nerves—it was the insinuation behind his words. Like he knew what I'd done last night. Like he expected it. Hell, maybe he had. I guess I wasn't the first girl the good-looking, well-respected Spot Conlon had dragged to his room in a drunken stupor. There were probably even girls that had willingly been there before. Probably. Probably.
"Sure it is, sweetheart. Now." He turned to David Jacobs, his grin wide and suddenly I could understand exactly why he was known as Wolf. "You know why we call her that, don't ya, Jacobs?" David looked down at his feet.
"No. No, I guess I don't."
"Sure you do. Just look at her. You can tell by the way she's walkin' how hard she was fucked last night." He grabbed my face in a vice grip, and the ache in my jaw shot through to the piercing pain in my temple. I winced. "You have to wonder about these kinda girls...the ones that're so eager to live with men instead of taking a job at a factory an' living respectable- like with other women." He released his hold, but his green eyes still bore into mine. His grin disappeared, replaced with a sneer. "Yeah, you got whore in you. Don't ever fuckin' tell me otherwise."
I clenched my fists. "Maybe I didn't have no choice."
"There's always a choice." He nodded to David and made his way toward the main room. Before he left, he turned to me one more time. "You're still here, ain't you?"
I had no reply. I was, after all, still there.
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Author's Note: Big Bad Wolf.
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"Get up." I opened my eyes and immediately my head was flooded with pain. I moaned and buried my head into my arm. Now that I was conscious, I could feel not only the sharp pain in my head, but also the ache of my jaw and the same raw throbbing between my legs. "I said, get up." Rough hands yanked and dumped me unceremoniously off the bed and onto the wooden floor.
"I feel sick."
"Look at this fuckin' mess," he muttered. His sheets were stained with blood, and the sight made me feel nauseous all over again. "If I had known you were virgin, maybe I wouldn't have bothered." I stood up shakily, gathering my dress up from the floor with a studied concentration. Do not throw up in here, please please please..."Here," he grabbed my hand and shoved a dollar into my fist. "Get yourself another petticoat."
"Thanks," I whispered, and promptly ran to the washroom to vomit in the sink.
"Guess I'm not the only one who don't handle liquor well, huh?" David Jacobs was perched on the edge of the tub, a sickly green color in his cheeks and a wry smile on his lips.
"Guess not," I managed a weak smile before throwing up again. My head was pounding.
"Well, well, well." This time it was the unmistakable whine of Wolf Adams, and it did nothing to relieve my headache. "Doxy had quite the night, didn't she?"
"My name. Isn't. Doxy." I gritted my teeth; it wasn't just his mere voice that was grating on my nerves—it was the insinuation behind his words. Like he knew what I'd done last night. Like he expected it. Hell, maybe he had. I guess I wasn't the first girl the good-looking, well-respected Spot Conlon had dragged to his room in a drunken stupor. There were probably even girls that had willingly been there before. Probably. Probably.
"Sure it is, sweetheart. Now." He turned to David Jacobs, his grin wide and suddenly I could understand exactly why he was known as Wolf. "You know why we call her that, don't ya, Jacobs?" David looked down at his feet.
"No. No, I guess I don't."
"Sure you do. Just look at her. You can tell by the way she's walkin' how hard she was fucked last night." He grabbed my face in a vice grip, and the ache in my jaw shot through to the piercing pain in my temple. I winced. "You have to wonder about these kinda girls...the ones that're so eager to live with men instead of taking a job at a factory an' living respectable- like with other women." He released his hold, but his green eyes still bore into mine. His grin disappeared, replaced with a sneer. "Yeah, you got whore in you. Don't ever fuckin' tell me otherwise."
I clenched my fists. "Maybe I didn't have no choice."
"There's always a choice." He nodded to David and made his way toward the main room. Before he left, he turned to me one more time. "You're still here, ain't you?"
I had no reply. I was, after all, still there.
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Author's Note: Big Bad Wolf.