Marie calmly repeated her request that he pay her. As long as she didn’t show any pain or fear, he would grow bored of tormenting her. She had learned that the hard way.
He gave her a dismissive look and spat at her feet. “What you gonna do if I don’t, puta? Tell the cops el jefe made you a food and alcohol license, picked you up out the fuckin’ gutter before some pimp could? And now you mad ‘cause he won’t give you the cash money you don’t pay no taxes on? That what you gonna say?” He laughed, a gold canine flashing in the gloomy restaurant, and moved on to count and bundle the next stack of money.
That really was the long and short of it. Marie was powerless in this situation and she knew it. Whatever. She’d think of another way to get a little money. Might make a couple hundred off the car. She turned to leave.
A hand closed down on her bicep, and it may as well have closed over her heart for the fear that bolted through her chest. “Did I say you could leave? You are my bitch, Maria. You don’t walk out ‘til I tell you to walk the fuck out, comprendes?”
“Someone’s waitin’ for me.” She didn’t know where that came from. Didn’t know why she said it. It was just . . . she had never been able to say that before. It felt like it gave her some kind of power, that Jose would have someone to answer to if he mistreated her.
And she knew the moment the words left her mouth that they were a terrible mistake.
His grip tightened, fingers digging in. Pain shot up and down her arm, almost bringing her to her knees. Her mouth opened in a silent cry.
“Nobody’s waiting for you. You are invisible. You are nothing. You are nobody.” He shook her by the arm. “Say it!”
Marie’s eyes fell closed, the entire world reduced to the sharp stab of pain in her arm. “I’m--I’m invisible.” Her voice trembled. “I’m n-nothing. I’m nobody.”
His other hand closed over the back of her neck, and her entire body was trembling now. His voice dropped to a lover’s whisper against her ear. “I could snap your neck right now, Maria, like a little bird. Throw you in the dumpster with the rest of the trash. Nobody would care.”
Logan would. After all, hadn’t he waited with her last night in the restaurant, made sure she was safe? He would care. He would be . . . at least a little bit sad if she died. At least a little bit.
Jose was wrong. He was wrong and the things he said to her were wrong and the way she let him treat her was all wrong.
So when his hand tightened around her neck, she didn’t beg for her life this time. She didn’t tell him she’d do anything he wanted if he’d stop hurting her, only to have him reply that she was a whore and he’d never touch her filthy cunt in a million years. She didn’t close her eyes and take it silently while she desperately pretended to be somewhere else, someone else.
She turned on her skin.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
jefe - boss
comprender - understand
comprender - understand