Jackie - 2014
Jackie? Maybe he’s a brother of Vince’s. But the way his picture sits by itself on the shelf seems so dramatic. Did something happen to him? I suddenly feel like I’ve pushed my snooping way too far, like I’m spying on Vince’s darkest secret.
“Hello?” A voice calls from the living room.
I nearly scream, backing out of the room and slamming the bookshelf-door shut. My cheeks are flushed and my stomach feels like it’s rolling around. Christ. I smooth my hair and move toward the living room. I wait in the doorway to Vince’s room, listening carefully. Violent flashes of memory from my kidnapping make me close my eyes hard. Please don’t let it be them again.
“Room service?” asks the voice. I can tell now he’s relatively young, a teenager maybe. Definitely not a mobster.
I step out to see a boy wearing a tuxedo that looks slightly ill-fitting. He’s carrying a brown paper bag on a silver tray. “Ma’am?” he asks. His eyes fall to my tits and lack of pants. I blush even deeper. I’m wearing an oversized white T-shirt and panties. I fold my arms over my chest, trying to pretend I’m confident and not just careless.
“You can leave it there,” I say.
He nods, swallowing hard and turning quickly to take the elevator back down. Vince said no one could come up the elevator without his permission, so I guess the room service kid must have come on Vince’s behalf. He sent food...that probably means he’s not going to be coming back tonight. Whatever it is, it smells wonderful.
I open the paper bag and find several plastic containers of steaming hot food. One holds a large portion of steamed rice, the other is full of pulled chicken in an orange sauce, and there are also several pieces of pita bread wrapped in tinfoil. Indian food? I’ve never really tried it, but if the smell is any indication, I’ve been missing out.
I spread the food out on the kitchen table and have myself a feast for one. I don’t know if I’m doing it the right way, but I use the buttery orange sauce and rice to stuff the pitas and eat them like little sandwiches. The pita is a little crusty on the outside and incredibly soft on the inside. The flavor in the sauce is hard to describe, almost nutty, yet oily and buttery, too. It helps that I’ve barely eaten anything in the past week out of spite, except when Vince decided to do the sweetest thing ever and bring me a monumental tower of cheetos because he saw me eat some the previous day. I still smile when I think about it.
When my stomach is so full that it’s actually rounding out beneath my t-shirt, I look at the table where I’ve set the small golden key. I think about the room again. To be honest, it is a little off-putting. I’ve been surprised by the way his dark side seems to wake something warm inside me, but that room felt wrong. Somehow it made me think of a cold violence, not a passionate, emotional violence. I don’t know why the distinction bothers me, but it does. And why would he have a picture of a relative in there? It was almost like a shrine to violence.
Here I go again, confusing myself. Wasn’t I just thinking about running? About leaving him behind and trying to salvage what was left of my life? Wouldn’t I be running for my life if I wasn’t terrified of being kidnapped again?
I drown my sorrows in the delicious orange sauce, eating more than I have room for until it hurts. I turn on the T.V. and start watching the end of Me Before You. I fall asleep with an abused belly and a conflicted heart.
23
Vince
When the elevator doors open, I see Aubriella passed out on my couch. She’s not wearing any makeup and the t-shirt I gave her is bunched up just beneath her tits. One of her legs is bent and the other dangles from the couch so I can see the soft bulge of her mound through her black panties. Fuck. I’m already near full-mast by the time I kneel beside her on the couch. I take a look at the carnage on the coffee table and laugh. It seems like she really enjoyed the Indian food. I ordered enough for her to have leftovers, but she practically ate everything already.
At the sound of my laugh, she stirs. Just as her eyes open, mine catch on the golden key sitting beside a bunched up ball of tinfoil. My key. I pick it up and hold it in front of her face.
“How did you find this?”
She runs a hand through her hair and looks fuckin’ gorgeous as she blinks the sleep from her eyes and sits up. The shirt falls to her waist, bunching up around her wide hips. She’s been snooping. I know she has. I expected it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to punish her for it. It has been too long since I’ve had her the way I want; hard and dirty. I can only stand building her trust for so long. I just want to destroy her tight little cunt, but I can’t rush it. That takes all the fun out of it. If it was any other girl, I wouldn’t give a shit. I’d have her how I wanted and not care what it did to her. The problem is I don’t want Aubriella to run off after she sees how I really like it. I have to make sure she’s ready before I show her, and I can’t risk losing her.