Sorry for the delay - this time of year is so incredibly busy as I close out my classroom in preparation for summer. 7 more school days and I'm a free woman! (Until September, that is!)
Thank you for reading, reviewing, and my team for cleaning this up for me.
Victoria Sutherland grips the sides of her dress with shaking hands and hopes he is too distracted to see it.
She can't let him see.
Pretending to steal a coy glance at him from over her shoulder, she uses this moment to wipe her tears on the sleeve of her dress, knowing he's too focused on sliding his hands up the back of her legs to notice her distress. He finds her undergarments, sliding them down her legs and discarding them to the side as he pulls her dress up to admire her from behind.
It's dark in her room, the way she prefers it, a single candle lighting their way. She prefers them faceless. Makes it easier for her to erase from her head in the morning. She closes her eyes, willing her brain to think of something, anything, else than what the man is doing to her. Anything to keep her mind off where she is and what she's doing.
She shakes her head, willing the tears to go away. She's not supposed to be here. Not like this. Not anymore.
"Over there, sweetheart."
She doesn't know his name, but she listens to the man as he's a paying customer. She moves over to where he points. He wants her like this, bent over the side of the bed with her face hidden in the blankets, and she doesn't try to dissuade him. If anything, not seeing his face as he slides his cock into her from behind is a blessing she so desperately needs.
She can't let him see.
She clenches her eyes shut as her body adjusts to him, her fingers gripping the blankets as he pumps to his own rhythm, the only one that matters in this exchange.
A voice in her head tells her it's not supposed to be this way. She allows herself to disengage and drift away in her head, remembering gentle words, soft caresses from calloused fingers, a shared passion growing like fire between them.
But not with him. Not this way. Not her skirts gathered at her waist. Not a stranger's grunts against the skin of her back. Not her tears soaking into the blankets as the minutes drag on.
Not the money he throws onto the bed next to her when he's done with her.
She stays where she is until she knows for sure he's gone, sniffling away the memories that haunt her mind every minute of the day. Rolling onto her back, she reaches for his payment before tucking it away for later. She lies there for a few more minutes, listening to the soft pattering of the rain against the windows. It's lessened considerably since the morning, and now that it's past midnight, it could easily lull her to sleep if she had the time.
Familiar footsteps outside of her window remind her that she, in fact, does not have the time tonight.
"Victoria?"
Her body recoils at the sound of his voice, wishing she had just a few more minutes to herself before he came for his payment.
As if he deserves any profit she makes off her own body.
She wants to stand up and scream, tell him to fuck off, and leave her alone for good. But she sighs, her worries never leaving her own mind, and stands to her feet, fixing her clothes back into place. She opens the door just as he's about to enter her room on the bottom floor.
"Rose doesn't want you in here," she reminds him, her voice void of any emotion. She hands him the payment from the man she had just served. "Go."
He doesn't put up a fight as he makes his way back outside to the street. She follows him, her spirit breaking more and more with each step, but she remains silent and waits for him to hand back her share once he's taken his.
"It's quiet tonight," he says. Sometimes the rain will keep the men inside. "You can go back in but don't go far. You owe me."
She spits next to him on the ground, saliva mixing with puddles of rain, but doesn't bother to answer him.
She wants to tell him she owes him nothing. That he has taken more from her than just her innocence. Instead, she nods and wraps her sweater with gaping holes more tightly around herself.
"Thanks, Marcus." She croaks before disappearing back inside. She avoids her bedroom, wanting to forget about what happens when she closes its doors and heads to the kitchen instead.
"Fuck!" She screams, clutching her heart, when she opens the door and finds a woman at the table.
"I'm sorry," the dark-haired woman says, her eyes wide with fear. "I didn't think anyone was awake."
Once her heartbeat lessens, Victoria steps further into the kitchen. "This building never sleeps," she replies, reaching for the other chair and plopping down next to the woman at the table.
"Oh."
She points to the muffin at the center of the table. "You gonna eat that?"
"No, here." The dark-haired woman offers, handing her the plate with the single muffin. "I was just finishing up. Please."
She raises the plate again in her direction with a small smile, hoping to lighten the tension in the room.
Victoria nods, accepting the muffin. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," she replies. "I'm Isabella."
She looks up at her then, her name drawing impossible connections in her head, but she shakes them away and blames them on her broken heart. She remembers a new life ahead of her. She remembers how it was stolen from her. She swallows now, wiping her mouth on her sleeve as she hears the sound of a knock against the front door.
Marcus has sent another man her way. He doesn't like to be kept waiting. Never has in all the years she's been one of his working girls.
Even in the year she wasn't.
She grabs the remainder of the muffin and answers Isabella over her shoulder as she leaves.
"Victoria."
She reaches into her dress for a sniff of snow.
It's the only way she'll make it through the night.
And another character enters.
See you soon!