“I hate what you’ve done to me…” she cried into her hands. “…what you’ve made me into… weak and pathetic.”
She waited for Mr. Black’s assault, but it never came. A soft thud behind her made her look over her shoulder where she saw Victor on his knees behind her, watching her with glassy eyes.
“You’re not weak,” he croaked out. “You’re not weak,” he repeated, his voice barely a husky whisper. Reaching out to her, he gingerly pulled her into his arms, a tired look of regret washing over his features. She tried to fight him, but only half-heartedly. Mr. Black was gone and she allowed Victor to hold her against his warm body. Staring down at her, his chest heaved and his heart beat could be felt through his ribcage.
“I’ll give myself to you, Victor, willingly, anytime you want,” she stared up at him, pleading for kindness with her eyes. “…but please don’t let Mr. Black take me without my permission. I don’t want that kind of memory of you…” more tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Leaning down, he placed a delicate kiss on her forehead. “It won’t happen again.” A finger traced the line of her tears that were still streaming down her cheeks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you cry… how many times I’ve dreamt of these tears…” he gulped noisily. “I only wish they hadn’t come the way they did.”
When she felt the rigidness of his dick press into her side, she reminded herself that he enjoyed seeing her like this. Fake pity. That’s all this was. Freeing herself from his arms, she sat on her knees and faced him as she dabbed her eyes. “I want information. I did what you wanted and now it’s your turn.”
The gentle look on his face turned fierce in the blink of an eye, but then suspiciously mellowed and cooled. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
Elsa seized the opportunity before he could back out. “How did you get that scar?”
Standing, he helped her to her feet. As she impatiently awaited his answer, he strolled to the bed and seated himself.
“It was a work incident,” he started casually with no inflection in his voice. “It was back in my second year as an agent and...”
She stood with her mouth parted in astonishment as she listened to the load of shit he was spewing in her direction. If it was something as simple as work related he never would have reacted with such volatility the first time she brought it up. He never would’ve said the horrible things he did. Mr. Black wouldn’t have made a damned appearance if the only thing that happened was some suspect got out of hand.
Furious with herself for crying in front of him and giving herself up so easily to him, she fisted her hands. How could she have been so stupid to believe that he would ever play the game her way, despite having signed his name? A sudden burst of courage coursed through her veins as she stomped towards him and pointed a finger in his face.
“You forced me to make the most difficult decision of my life and you never had any intention on playing the game any other way than your own. Did you?” she blared. “You think I’m stupid? That I was born fucking yesterday and can’t tell when you’re lying? I told you I would do anything you wanted and I meant it. I would’ve crawled through glass for you and this is what I get in return? Some made up story after you just told me you’ve dreamt of my tears?” Victor’s eyes widened and his jaw gaped, his silence and idiotic look only riling her more. “Is that how you plan on answering all of my questions? With lies? You signed that piece of paper knowing damned well you were never going to follow through. Well guess what? It goes both ways. If you’re signature doesn’t mean anything, then neither does mine.” Her breathing came out ragged as she backed away, “I should’ve known better than to believe you,” she whispered, “I thought this time maybe…” she felt the tears welling up again. “I thought…” she swallowed hard and put everything on the line. “If you can’t follow the one simple rule I gave you while expecting me to follow your multitude of them, then I’m out. I quit. You can find someone else to put up with your crap because it won’t be me.” A sudden look of panic made Victor bolt upright. “No amount of threats will ever get me to play willingly either,” she yelled when he stood and moved toward her.
With the speed of an Olympic athlete, she bolted from the room, leaving her bag behind. When she arrived at her car and realized she was shoeless and keyless, she screamed an obscenity into the freezing night air. She would rather suffer hypothermia than go back into that house. Hugging her body, she began jogging up the street toward the bus stop, hoping the driver would show her mercy and give her a lift home where she had a spare key hidden.
The wintry air bit through the thin layer of clothing she was wearing, making her nipples tighten and her body shiver. She made it two blocks before she ran out of stamina and began walking with the frigid wind to her back. Eying the street, traffic was slow and there was no bus to be seen. In the distance, she could see the light of the café she loved so much and broke into one last winner-take-all sprint to their door. Bursting inside, a horrified waitress came to her rescue, bringing her a hot cup of coffee and her own coat to warm her, as well as some linen from the back to warm her feet.
Not even then did she break down as her body shook uncontrollably. It was over. Done. And she was glad for it. There would be no more damned tears for that fucked up, delusional, sadistic man. He had screwed her over for the very last time.
She had done her best all day to pretend like what was happening wasn’t really happening. She had allowed Victor to have that piece of herself that Nate wasn’t interested in, all the while telling herself that everything was okay, when it was anything but. She had followed his orders and let him pleasure her while convincing herself that he was really going to follow through when deep down, she knew it would end up like this. Damn her for letting him back into her life. Damn him for making her do what she did Nate and break his heart.
As she stared at the table top, pouting, and sipping on her java, she knew without looking up when Victor slid into the seat across from her by his tell-tale smell.
“You’re so damned impulsive and unreasonable,” he muttered. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Go away. I mean it. I won’t have you. Ever again,” she refused to look up.
“Okay. I get it. I fucked up. Again.” the sound of his lips being moistened and a loud swallow made her eyes flicker upward. “I’ll play by your rules,” his rough, pained voice swept over her.
She drew in a deep breath and held it, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“But it’s not a simple rule like you think,” his lips thinned in displeasure. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but on my terms. On my terms,” he repeated with emphasis as he sat unmoving. “I’ll give you one chance, and one chance only, to come up with a list of questions you want to ask me. You have until tomorrow to present them to me. There’s no adding to the list…” his eyes drifted to his hands as he rubbed his palms together. “There’s no changing the list.”
Elsa’s body sagged with relief because she knew, this time, he was telling the truth by the way his body spoke to her; slumped shoulders, a look of defeat. It was a fleeting moment as he straightened himself up and his eyes darkened to near black.
“Be careful what you choose to ask me, because once you know everything, you may wish you didn’t,” the muscle in his jaw quivered. “...and I don’t know what the consequences will be of your forcing me to tell you my secrets.”
"I'm not afraid of Mr. Black or what secrets he holds. I've already seen him at his worst.”
“Trust me when I say, you haven’t.”
She leaned forward, setting her cup down and held his gaze. “I knew what the consequences would be by agreeing to play your game again. I could've said no, but I accepted them.”