I thought this would keep me safe from both of them and so I kept asking. But when I did, she held out her arms and I went to her. I let her hold me and pet me. She told me not to worry, that we’d be gone by then. With her talking this way and her touching, I landed right where I’d started. And so I stopped asking and started guessing.
I’d lost all sense of time. Had no way to know how long he’d been gone – a week, maybe ten days. I didn’t believe he’d stay away much longer than this, but how could I know? Clearly he didn’t expect me to still be here. Clearly she knew what to expect.
More and more I began to let her take over. But always nagging me were the questions I hadn’t asked her. These came down to “How did you let him?” which seemed to make it more her fault than his but I really wasn’t driving at blame. It still seemed practical. Like I needed to know if I could rely on her. If I could at all.
And so I began to ask her again, ask her when he’d be back. Until one evening, not too long after, when we were lying together in much the same way, I pressed it too hard. She let go of me. She got up and walked. Then she turned on me. She said, “You want him back. You miss him.”
She said it like it just dawned on her. But it hadn’t yet come to me. Hadn’t occurred to me that maybe I did need him. That it was simpler with him there. That the sort of jeopardy she put me in was worse. And because of this, because I could see she might just be right, I said, “No, I don’t. I worry about it, that’s all.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “You forget I’ve seen you with him. I’ve seen how you get.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’d do anything.”
Now I was angry, swallowing tears but with nothing to say.
“You pretend it’s about money. That without the money, you’d never have come here. That it makes you different than me…”
“It is why I came.”
“Oh, please. You can’t for a minute believe that, so how are you to convince me?”
Her saying this put me back to that first time with him in that parking lot. Even approaching me he’d been different. He walked straight up to me and said, “You looking for something?” Then he’d laughed and said, “My car’s over there.” And when I didn’t immediately follow, he took my arm. Said, “Let’s go, honey.” Already, he had me thinking it’d be easier this way. That always running the game had begun tiring me, and so why not let him do it?
Eight
I spent that night back in their daughter’s room. I thought I’d be the one to leave. That I’d leave the next morning. Make way for whoever came next. I never thought she’d leave but that’s what happened. She actually went and did it. And I’d slept through it. So now I figured I had to get out and fast. Had to hope he wouldn’t connect her leaving to me.
I didn’t have much money. The same few hundred he’d given me before all this started. I considered rummaging through things, trying to find more. I thought I shouldn’t go back to my parents’ house. That there was a chance he’d come looking. Four hundred dollars would get me just about nowhere.
I guessed there’d be a little window. That she hadn’t been planning to leave yet and so he wouldn’t be back right away. I called a cab and went home. I was surprised at how easy it was. I couldn’t shake the worry, though, even when I’d showered and was finally dressed in my own jeans and shirt. When I was sitting on the couch in my parents’ living room, drinking their booze and not his, even then I kept expecting someone to stop me.
I stayed pretty much in the house. Just went out to shop for food, things like that. My nerves settled pretty soon, and good thing because the money was running low. I actually thought about getting my old job back. I really did, for a minute or so, before I decided I needed to get some cash in before I could consider that sort of thing.
I realize going back to the parking lot does not seem like the best thing or the smartest. But I’d begun to feel easy. I thought that because I was out of his house that’d be the end of it. That he couldn’t reach me, wouldn’t bother. I even thought I could go back to doing him in his car. That it’d make sense because he wanted more and so paid more. I not only thought all this stuff, I came to believe it.
So I began working the commuters again. And it seemed I was right because I didn’t see any sign of him. The old regulars acted glad to see me and so I upped my rate a little. Began making more for less off these guys. Began to appreciate them again, and then began to get bored.
One evening, I saw someone new on the platform. He craned his neck like he was looking for his wife picking him up. I’d all but pictured the station wagon and the dog in the back when he began heading my way.
Coming up to me he said, “I hear you’re worth it.”
I was thinking, this isn’t how they usually talk. I said, “That depends. What is it you’re wanting?”
He said, “Let’s talk in my car.”
It was already dark and a pretty cold night, so this seemed like a good idea, or at least not a bad one. We crossed the lot, all the way to the other end. His was the only car left that far over, a four-door green sedan. One look and I knew. It was that kind of car.
He had hold of my arm.
I said, “Hey, look, I don’t think so. Not tonight.”
Who was I kidding?
I could see his partner in the backseat waiting. He was the one who shoved the door open. Then the one behind me was pushing and this one was yanking, and then he cuffed me. Looped one end through one of those metal door handle things, the kind cabs sometimes have. I noticed because my head hit it, though even before that I was dazed. So much so it took me a bit to realize where I’d wound up. It took feeling hands in my hair, fingers running through it, and then I turned my head in his lap, could feel the other one still behind me and pushing.
I had one knee on the seat, curled up under me, the other on the floor. And the guy behind me wasn’t pushing anymore, but pulling instead. Pulling at my clothes until he had everything off me but my shirt.
The other guy was too busy with his own clothes to bother with mine. He’d spent these few moments getting his dick out and into my mouth. He didn’t say a word, just held me against his lap in a way that hurt my neck. And with my head turned this way it was hard to do what he wanted, hard to take him.
The other one was the talker. He said, “I heard you like it in the ass. Am I right?” he said. And he was nudging me there, pulling me apart with his hands and stroking me. “Guess so,” he said, laughing. I could feel how slippery I was and then felt his dick rubbing me.
When he put it in, it hurt because he stayed slow about it, kept right at that place where the pain stays bad because you can’t ease up and you can’t ease up because of the pain. I knew he was staying there on purpose. Normally I guess I would’ve chewed on something but the other guy in my mouth made that not a good option and so finally I couldn’t hold still for it.
I jerked, my whole body did. And the way I moved my head and my mouth brought the one guy off, but I guess he wasn’t ready because he pulled his dick away fast and was cursing me. I don’t know, maybe I hurt him. I could tell he wanted out of the car. But so did I.
I was still trying to swallow him. And the guy behind me was making this harder. He had his hand on my neck and was pressing. Pressing me into the other one’s thigh. And then, still staying in that same place in my ass, he started dicking around. Moving in and out and so I was swallowing more and more until I pulled my arms down. Did this so the cuffs would eat into my wrists and it helped, it got me quieter.