She doesn't want to feel comforted by him, this man who killed someone in front of her, chased her into the woods, and kidnapped her, but she is. Truthfully, he's the first person to hold her since she left home, the first person to be gentle and (almost) nice with her in about as long.
So…maybe he is a bad guy, but if she's stuck with him regardless, it might be easier if she just allowed herself to like him. Right?
At the sound of a hiss and a softly grumbled, "Jesus," from the man, Benny, working on her wound, she starts to raise her head to look.
The other man (the one she'd indebted her life to, yet still doesn't know his name) puts one large hand on the back of her head and pushes her back down against his chest before she can see. "No, no, don't look, babygirl," he whispers. "You don't need to see."
She can't decide if she hates him calling her that or not. The first time, it had disgusted her, but now…he only seems to say it when he's being gentle—as gentle as a man like him ever gets, she guesses—with her, and she likes him when he's gentle. She knows she shouldn't, that she should hate him and everyone associated with him for putting her in this situation, but…if she's honest with herself, it's not really as bad as it sounds.
She won't have to worry about paying rent anymore, for starters. She won't need weekly STD tests, won't feel filthy coming home to her child every day after letting ten different strangers touch her wherever they pleased. Just this one not-quite-stranger, who is sometimes nice to her, which is more than she can say for just about anyone else.
Jesus, the bar is low, but at least he's above it.
She pulls her head back tentatively from his chest, not to look at her foot, but at him. "What's your name?" She asks meekly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
The man gives her what looks like an attempt at a smile. He's not very good at smiling.
"Alex," he offers. He looks to be thinking for a few moments, then he speaks again. "My friends call me Alex."
She frowns and looks up at him. His eyes are very pretty, even if it terrifies her to look at him. "What should I call you?"
He thinks for a while longer, then says, "Alex is fine…in moderation."
In moderation? What the hell is that supposed to mean? She can't say his name too much without pissing him off?
"Okay," she nods, trying not to let her slight confusion show on her face. She must fail, because his finger hooks underneath her chin a moment later, tipping her face up and forcing her to meet his eyes.
"You should respect me," he states matter-of-factly, his voice dark and low. "Everyone in this city either respects me or is terrified of me, or both. And I promise you, ciervita, there is a correct choice."
Norma gulps as goosebumps ripple from the back of her neck down her spine. "I…I do respect you," she tries to insist, but he shakes his head.
"No, babygirl, you don't. Not the way you should," he sighs, brushing some hair out of her face. "But you'll learn. You'll learn."
She has no idea what that's supposed to mean, but she's afraid to ask any more questions. On instinct, she starts to lay her head back down on his chest, but she catches herself before she does so, straightening up suddenly.
"If I wanted to hurt you, you'd be dead by now," he reminds her, another bad attempt at a smile on his face, and it strikes her how observant he is. She'd thought he wouldn't notice her little slip-up, but he did, and somehow managed to figure out exactly what was going on in her head before she even fully knew. It scares her, how much he knows about her without her having to tell him. She feels vulnerable, exposed, like he's staring into her soul without her permission.
Well, and the shredded state of her dress just barely hanging onto her body certainly doesn't help with the exposed feeling, either.
"I just want to go home," she admits softly. "I want my baby."
Alex sighs and pulls her back to him, and against her better judgment, she lets herself melt into his arms. "We're almost done here," he assures her. "Right, Benny?"
It sounds more like a command than a question, but Benny answers it anyway. "Just finishing up," he confirms, starting to wind a long bandage around her foot over and over again. Then, he starts speaking to Alex in Spanish again, and she doesn't have the energy to ask what's going on, knowing he probably won't tell her anyway.
After a couple of seconds of lull in their conversation, he looks down at her and brushes the hair from her eyes. "You can't put weight on it for at least a week," he tells her, and immediately, her brain jumps into panic mode.
"But– my–"
"Your son will be fine," he interrupts her before she can even say anything. "You can walk with a crutch, and I'll have my housekeeper come to help you with him."
That's a relief, at least. But the thought of being crippled, even for just a week, terrifies her. What good would she be to him to stop him from just killing her?
"What about…" she squeaks, looking back and forth between them to finish her sentence for her.
"That eager to get in my pants, are you?" Alex smirks.
"No!" She answers immediately. A hot blush erupts over her face, her embarrassment only making it worse as he leers at her, barely holding in his laughter. "I– I just…just wasn't sure…what the…expectations are…"
Alex shakes his head at her like she's a child asking a silly question. "The expectations are that you follow doctor's orders so Benny here doesn't have to cut off your foot. I have plenty of places to go to fill my needs until you're cleared."
Norma is frowning before she can stop herself, failing to mask the offense in her eyes. She should have known not to expect the whole monogamy thing to be mutual, but something in her had hoped that it might be anyway, that maybe he wasn't the womanizer he made himself out to be. But then again, someone had ordered a prostitute to that VIP room, and she's pretty certain she remembers seeing a ring on that other man's finger.
She should have known better than to expect she'd be the only girl he would be with, but deep down, she had hoped she might be enough for him. She had let herself hope that having all of her would be enough to satisfy all of him, that he might come to rely on her, that he wouldn't get tired of her and throw her out eventually just like every other whore.
Except he couldn't throw her out. He would have to kill her, and then Dylan would be all alone. Again.
"No," she says, the word leaving her mouth before she can think better of it.
Alex raises his eyebrows, and in her peripheral vision, she sees Benny go rigid. "No?" He repeats, the threat so thick in his voice that she swears she can feel it hanging in the air around them. He's not a man that people ever say no to, she's already figured that out, but she has no other option.
"I want…I made a promise," she states firmly. "I don't need both feet to make good on that."
He looks genuinely surprised by that, and she can't help the tiny bit of pride she feels at drawing a reaction out of him despite all his stoicism. "You're saying you'd rather I fucked you?"
Norma cringes at his word choice. She hates that word, or at least the way that it's used. It makes her feel like an object, just something to fuck, not a human being. She knows that's how the men who pay her bills see her, but hearing it from this man, the one she's now stuck with indefinitely, feels that much worse.
Still, she manages to nod. She has to make herself valuable to him in any way she can, for Dylan's sake. If it means letting this annoyingly, undeniably attractive man…fuck…her while her foot is still healing, then so be it.
"No, no," Alex shakes his head, one side of his mouth pulled back in an almost sinister smile. "You're gonna have to say it, babygirl."
She'd thought it was impossible for her face to get any hotter, but she had been wrong. She meets his eyes, a silent plea for him not to make her do this. It's too humiliating, to be asking this man who is effectively holding her hostage to have sex with her, despite him giving her an opportunity to get out of it. But he won't relent, she knows that already. She never had a choice to begin with.
Forcing a deep breath through her lungs, Norma manages to find her voice. "I don't want you to go to anyone else," she says with as much firmness as she can muster. "Just me."
A bolt of panic strikes through her heart as Alex shares a dark look with Benny, who looks more than a bit taken aback by her request. Alex's eyes are stern when he turns back to her, flaming brown rings of rage that make her heart start to pound in her chest.
"You want to try that again?" He asks her slowly, an artificial patience in his voice like he's talking to a child. Her face blazes red once again, her entire body jumping from hot to cold as fear tumbles around like a boulder in her gut. "If you're asking me for something, ciervita, it ought to be in the form of a question. You don't make demands of me. No one does, but especially not you."
She's certain she's never felt more humiliated in her life. For a second, she lets herself consider giving up, just letting him fuck whoever he wants, but only for a second. It's life or death, she tells herself. It doesn't make you a whore if you're doing it to survive.
"Please…" she starts, her voice hardly more than a squeak. "Please don't go to any other girls. I– I want– I mean, I– I'm asking you to…to, um…fuck…me instead."
When she gathers the courage to look up at him, the smile on his face has humiliation washing over her all over again.
"So Norma the hooker really is a monogamist," he says brightly, like he didn't just put her through the most embarrassing moment of her life. "You don't see that every day."
All she can do is stare down at her hands, willing herself with every ounce of control she has not to let him make her cry again. She can tell that he likes it when she cries, for whatever twisted reason, and she won't give him the satisfaction. Not this time.
"Please," she nearly whispers, fighting the quivering of her lip as hard as she can. "I'm begging you."
She can hear the smirk in his voice when he croons, "Oh, babygirl, you haven't begun to beg," with a soft chuckle that sends a shiver down her spine. "But alright. If you insist…I'll give you the week. Convince me you're the only girl I'll ever need."
Norma physically deflates with the breath of relief that she lets out, a singular tear dropping from her eye despite her best attempts to stop it. "Thank you…" she breathes out, only realizing how ridiculous she sounds after it leaves her mouth. She's thanking him for humiliating her, for agreeing to use her body, and only her body, how he pleases for a full week before he probably murders her anyway.
Yeah, thanks a lot.
