Chapter 36 Episode 36
1585 Words
Roger grabs my hand, holding my wrist tightly so I can’t walkaway. “Belle, you don’t have to deny yourself any longer.”
“I need this job,” I whisper.
I’m saying it for my own benefit as much as Roger’s. Tryingto remind myself why I’m still here, why I put up with thisshit.
Elise’s torn shoes. Our too-expensive apartment. Fuckinggroceries.
I have bills to pay, and I need this job.
Roger nods and pats my arm with his other hand. “I know.Which is why this can stay between us. Nothing will change.”
His hand slides up my forearm and then higher. He brushesacross the sleeve of my shirt and then hooks his fingers aroundmy shoulder to pull me closer to him. I try to resist, butunderneath his ill-fitting clothes, Roger is surprisingly strong.
“Everything will change,” I protest. “We can’t. We shouldn’t.”
Also, I don’t want to. I’d rather chew off my own arm.
“We’re both adults,” Roger whispers, leaning close. I cansmell the onion on his breath. “Workplace romances happenall the time, Belle. And I traveled a long way to be here.”
He shakes his head. “For you. I left Aruba to be here withyou.”
Then Roger is leaning towards me, eyes closing, dry lipspuckering. And for a horrifying moment, I don’t know what todo.
I can’t afford to lose this job. Maybe one kiss will pacify him.Maybe if I hold still, he’ll get bored and move on totormenting someone else. Resisting only makes him want memore.
But I hear Nikolai’s voice in the back of my head. Stand up foryourself, Belle. Don’t let him walk all over you. Fight back.
Quickly, I slam my palm against Roger’s chest. Air whooshesout of his lungs, and he stumbles back a half step. His facecreases in a frown.
“Don’t worry,” he croons again like he’s placating a wildanimal. “No one will know. We’re alone.”
We’re alone. Is that a statement or a threat?
It works in both ways. Because he’s right: there’s no one tosave me. No one to hear me scream. I have to play this right orit could get dangerous.
“But I would know,” I growl ferally. “I know myself, Roger. Iwouldn’t be able to work for you anymore if our relationshipprogressed beyond coworkers. Beyond boss and employee. Iwould have to quit. But I already told you I need this job. So…I can’t.”
He deserves a half-eaten hamburger to the face and amilkshake down his pants, but I offer him my kind explanationanyway. For a few stunned seconds, Roger weighs it.
Then his face twists into a hideous scowl.
I try to pull away from him, but he grips my wrist even tighter.“Roger,” I say, “I’m sorry, but—”
“‘I’m sorry but I’m just going to throw myself at you and thenyank it away at the last minute,’” he says in a nasty imitationof my voice. “‘I’m going to throw my arms around your neckand press my t**s against your chest, but when you try to makegood on it, I’m going to back away and play prude.’”
“I’m not a prude!” I snap. “And I gave you a hug. Not a lapdance.”
“In a skirt like that, there’s hardly a difference,” he scoffs.
The look in his eyes is hungry like a feral predator on theprowl. I have the feeling that he’s looking me over, decidingwhere he’d like to bite first.
“Look, let’s call it a day, okay? It’s late. We can come backtomorrow and start fresh.”
I try again to pull away, but Roger shakes his head. “No, Idon’t think that’s a good idea. I think we should hash this outnow.”
“We both need some time and space.”
“I don’t need either one,” he says huskily. “I’m ready.”
I frown, trying to understand what he means. Then I lookdown.
The front of his pants are tented, and Roger is grinning.
“Plus, there will be too many people here in the morning,” hesays. “It can’t be a dirty little secret if everyone knows. Andwhere’s the fun in that?”
“Roger, no,” I plead, hating the weakness in my voice. “Youdon’t want to do this.”
Roger spins me towards the table and slams my back againstthe edge of it. I cry out, a shooting pain lancing up my spine,but he ignores me.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you trotted your tightlittle ass into my office,” he rasps, forcing my thighs apartwith his knee. “You tease and you flirt, but you young bitchesdon’t know what you want. Men like me have to show you.”
I try to claw at him, but Roger pins my arms to the table. “Justlie still, Belle. I’ll take care of you.”
He wedges himself between my thighs so I can’t reach to kickhim, and he holds both of my arms in one hand. I’m spread infront of him, served up like a pig on a f*****g platter, andthere’s nothing I can do.
“Please,” I cry, hot tears burning my eyes and rolling down mycheeks. “Please don’t do this. Please.”
Roger’s eyes are completely black now. He licks his lips.“You’re probably already wet. You want it. I know you do.”
His fingers find the buttons of my blouse. He undoes one,which makes me shiver. He notices and smirks. “You can’thelp yourself, you little slut. You like when I touch you.”
I’m suddenly at a loss for words. I want to scream, but nosound is coming out. Another button pops free.
“You don’t have to lie with me,” he coos. “I know the truth. Iknow what you want. Let me give it to you.”
Why can’t I f*****g scream?
Cool air rushes over my skin, but I feel it in a far away kind ofway. Like when you spend too long in the snow and your toesgo numb. I know Roger is touching me, but I can’t feel it.
“f*****g perfect,” he growls, his eyes locked on my breasts.“You wear this lacy little number for me, didja?”
He leans close and his tongue darts out to moisten his lips.That, weirdly, is what breaks my spell. The sight of that foul,disgusting tongue flickering out. It’s so corporeal, so real andnauseating, that my body is moving before I can even processwhat my intentions are.
The heel of my hand smashes up into his nose.
He reels backwards. With enough room now to kick, I swingmy foot up into his crotch. Something soft gives way.
I don’t stop to find out what.
I just tear past him and run.
My legs feel like rubber. Every step is shaky, and I can alreadyhear Roger rallying behind me. “You f*****g b***h!” he roars.His scream echoes around the empty office building.
I can see the elevator straight ahead, but there isn’t time. He’llcatch up to me before the doors even open. But the stairs don’tfeel like an option, either. My ankle is still sore from my lasttumble down the stairs. I can barely support my own weight.
The office is empty, I can’t escape, and Roger is coming afterme.
His footsteps are thundering down the hallway. I dive for thenext door I pass. I yank it open and find a storage closet. Thereare shelves of paper and pens and computer cords andchargers. Stacks of calculators and rulers. Extra chairs.
I duck inside and catch a glimpse of Roger through the crackjust as the door closes. I pull the handle shut and then grab thechair next to me. I slide the metal leg through the curved doorhandle and twist, locking it into place just as Roger shakes thehandle on the other side.
“Come out, you cunt!” he roars, pounding on the door. “Youcan’t hide forever.”
I hold the chair firmly in place, praying he’s wrong.
Because hiding is the only option I have left.
“When is the wedding?” Florian asks, stretching his measuringtape down the outside of my leg. He’s an older man with abalding head and the latest in a never-ending rotation ofimmaculate suits. He’s been my tailor for years. The firstthousand dollars I ever made on my own went right into hispocket in exchange for a custom suit of my own.
Xena and Giorgos are both eager to make the arrangementsofficial. I told them this morning that they could proceed. I’mnot planning a f*****g wedding, but I’ll show up when I needto.
Still, arranged wedding or not, I’m not showing up in an off-the-rack suit.
“I planned to have three more months with this piece,” hesighs.
“I’ll make sure you’re compensated if it’s a rush job. I alwaysdo.”
He nods politely. “Yes, Mr. Zhukova.”
That’s my favorite thing about Florian. No bullshit and verylittle chit-chat. If he knows what I do for a living, he doesn’tmake it obvious. He just does his job and doesn’t askquestions. Something I wish more people were capable of.
People like Belle in particular.
My body clenches like I’m guarding myself against even thethought of her. And in some ways, I do need to guard myself.=
- Writer
