No. No. Absolutely not.
I could rationalize all day about how I didn’t believe King, about how I might stop halfway through…but really, the whole thing was just gross. Unsettling. Disturbing.
What would it be worth going back to Asher and asking for us to be together if I’d sold my dignity and promise of faithfulness out at the first sign of trouble?
Nothing.
I scooted away on the couch.
“I understand it is not an easy decision,” King said. “You made a commitment to your man. Such a commitment is one you want to hold on to as much as you can. God forbid that you break it. But—”
“I’m not doing anything with you, King!”
King laughed.
“Last chance, Callie. Last chance to be the good little whore—”
I moved forward.
And headbutted him right in the crotch.
“Fuck!” he yelled loudly as he staggered forward.
Crush entered, saw King on the floor, and came to me. He raised his hand and slapped me hard, knocking me down.
“You fucking bitch!” King said. “You fucking whore!”
He finally stood up, still staggering, still bent over and grimacing in agony. Good. If I could give him a fraction of the pain and fear I was feeling, all the better.
“I gave you a fucking gift of an opportunity, you stupid woman,” he snarled. “And you just fucking threw it away.”
He reached toward Crush and grabbed a gun. He pointed at me and fired.
Only after several seconds had passed did I realize he hadn’t hit me. He’d deliberately overshot by just a couple inches or two.
At least, it sure felt deliberate for how close he was to me.
A long silence passed. I didn’t look at King, fearful mere eye contact would make sure he didn’t miss a second time. But then I heard a short laugh. A slow laugh. And curiosity got the best of me.
King was smirking. Crush looked…worried? King gave the gun back to Crush without looking, his eyes never leaving mine.
“How could I be so foolish as to let a rash of anger almost ruin what we have here?” he said. “It will be of much greater delight if Asher doesn’t find you dead. But rather, near it.”
He turned to Crush.
“Wait here. I’m going to get my son. You two might as well have some fun with this whore before the Reapers show up.”
Without another word, he left the room. Crush went to the door and shut it.
“You don’t have to do what he says,” I said. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Crush kept his eyes on the door handle, not looking my way. The fury, the anger that had marked him from earlier had subsided. Was he finally seeing me as a human and not a captive?
“I do what the boss commands,” he said, but his tone wasn’t exactly in keeping with that idea. “I have always done his bidding.”
“And why should you?” I said.
Crush stole a glance at me, but it was brief. He shook his head.
