Chapter 9
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Eight Weeks Later
The sidewalk is busy as I make my way uptown, the buildings slowly become more elegant the further I get from my place. My breathing is heavy as I walk quickly to keep up with the flow of pedestrians, all in a hurry to get somewhere. Rhett and I have continued to see each other over the past couple of months, and I quickly forgave him for hiding the drugs in my joint. A part of me didn’t want to risk causing a scene, worried he would stop spending time with me, the loneliness of being out of contact with my family, specifically Garrett, starting to weigh on me. I wish I could say that I never used any other drugs he offered me, but I quickly fell into a pattern of relieving my stress with whatever he had on hand, whether trying to wake myself up for work or calm down at the end of the night. I realized quickly that Rhett was true to his word, never leading me astray and only giving me what he knew I could handle.
Filling my days with Rhett has shown me how lonely I’ve become, and a part of me hates the fact that I find myself counting down the hours until his next visit, wanting something to fill the silence in my apartment. But what I hate even more is how easy it is for him to impress me, a coffee or bouquet of flowers feeling like grand gestures of affection, and how dependent on him I have become.
I can’t pinpoint when I started to feel so lonely, when a void appeared in my life that only Rhett’s company could fill. All I know is that I like spending time with him, finally feeling as though someone wants to get to know me, and I love the ecstasy I feel while riding our highs together.
My phone buzzes, and I see a message from Sam. I move to the edge of the sidewalk, slowing my steps to text her back.
Sam:Heat tonight?
Me:Sorry, can’t tonight.
Sam:Are you working again?
Me:Nah, but don’t have the money to come out anyway.
Sam:Movie at yours?
Me:I wish we could, I’m out right now and not sure when I’ll be home.
Sam:Come on Evi, I barely see you anymore!
Me:We’ll make plans for another day, I promise!
Sam:Okayyyy but let me know if you change your mind. Miss you!!
Me:Miss you too xx
I look up, waiting for a car to turn before jogging across the street. I can’t help but notice an Italian restaurant my family used to eat at regularly. A flash of longing zaps through me as I miss being included in the family dinners I used to hate, missing Garrett, and watching my other brothers banter back and forth. My parents would love Rhett. And maybe that should be a red flag, I snort to myself. He would fit into their old money world like a missing puzzle piece, checking all the boxes of who they expect me to settle down with one day. My parents would melt if they heard who his family is, with a bank account that would put their wealth to shame. Rhett has quickly learned how to make me feel special, showering me with attention that keeps me coming back for more and helps me ignore the comments he makes, some of which cause me to question his intentions. Even though he treats me well, there’s something about him that I just can’t put my finger on, a look that flickers behind his eyes when he’s had one too many drinks or is encouraging me to live outside of my comfort zone. I don’t know what it means, but I know we spend so much time together that I’m sure to figure him out eventually.
My steps slow and I stop outside of an ornate building, the doorman pulling the door open for me as I approach. White marble glimmers throughout the foyer, and my running shoes feel out of place tapping against the impressive floor. I walk to the gold elevators, and the operator grants me access to the top floor after double-checking the guest list. A moment later, I knock on the front door to the penthouse, waiting as I hear footsteps approach from within. The door opens suddenly, and Rhett flashes me a smile.
“Hey, babe,” he drawls, ushering me inside.
My breath always catches at the expanse of his home. While I was no stranger to fine living, given that my parents acquired a lot of money during my childhood, Rhett and his family are made of money. There’s no color within his apartment, only black and gold staring back at me. I look around, taking in a gorgeous gold and crystal chandelier hanging from the black decorative ceiling, a new addition since my last visit.
I take my shoes off by the door, not wanting to risk tracking the dirt from the city into his impeccable place.
“I still can’t believe this is where you live…” I say, trailing off.
“It’s alright,” he says, following my gaze to the chandelier. “You texted me saying you want to talk, what’s up?” he asks quizzically.
Embarrassment floods through me as our eyes meet, and it takes all my self-control not to bolt out the door in shame.
“Look, I don’t want to ask this of you, but you know that offer you made a while ago… to… help me?”
He cocks an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“You were right…” I start as shame-coated bile rises in my throat. “I’m behind on every bill I have and I’m just not making enough. Being so far behind on bills has made things more difficult than I anticipated… I hate to ask this, but I just need a little bit to tie me over for a few months and I’ll pay you back as soon as I can… if the offer still stands.” I blurt out quickly, laying my cards on the table before humiliation sweeps me away.
He smiles. “Well, well, well,” he says, walking over to the leather couch, gesturing me to follow. He sits down, leaning back comfortably, his legs spread wide, as I stand in front of him, waiting for him to talk. There’s a devilish grin on his face and a foreboding sparkle in his eyes.
I try to ignore the turbulence within myself, the push and pull of needing more money mixed with the shame of asking for help.
“I figured it would only be a matter of time before you admitted you needed something I had, but you held out longer than I thought you would, Evi.” He lets out a chuckle. “How much money do you need?”
I pause. I’ve never had to ask for money before, let alone for the amount I need right now.
He reaches out, grabbing my waist to pull me in closer, his blue eyes looking at me intently. “How much?” he repeats.
My eyes break away from his, and I look at the floor as I quietly whisper the amount I need.
He lets out a low whistle, chuckling again before moving me aside so he can stand up, and instructing me to wait here as he leaves the room.
He’s back a moment later, his footsteps echoing off the marble floor as he approaches the couch again.
I freeze as he slowly places four stacks of bills on the glass table in front of us.
Holy shit.
I’m stunned by how easily he just went and got this amount of cash for me. There is rich, I think to myself, and then there is wealthy, and I know what category Rhett falls into.
I reach for one of the stacks, shame still sour in my mouth, and the embarrassment from this whole situation makes me want to melt into the floor. But before I can touch the money, Rhett stops my hand with his own.
“Tisk tisk,” he chides. “We still need to work out the finer details of our deal…”
Confusion sweeps through me, and I look at him, wondering what he means.
“I thought we worked it out?” I question. “You lend me the money and I pay you back as quickly as I can.” Anxiety starts to surface within me as I’m unable to read the emotions behind his eyes, and I’m genuinely unsure of what he’s about to say.
“I want more out of our deal,” he says simply.
My brow creases as I look at him, still unsure of what he’s implying.
“Don’t tell me you were serious about that maid costume…” I start lightly.
“Oh, I’m sure we could work that into our agreement if it’s what you want.” He laughs.
“I’ll pass,” I say quickly.
“But what if that’s what I want, Evi?” he questions.
“Do you?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Well, no, not that specifically…” He trails off.
“Okay, seriously, Rhett, I don’t get what you’re saying. What more do you want? I don’t have anything to give you…” I trail off, noticing his stare as he looks me up and down suggestively.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“What …”
“I want you to be more… amicable… to what I want,” he starts.
“I’m still not following.” Confusion laces my words.
“It’s quite simple, Evi, I want you to be more easygoing. I’m getting tired of this little dance we do every time I bring over something new for you to try, having to calm you down and convince you it’s fine. I also don’t want to hear any more complaints of you being too high, or too tired, too… well, you know. I’m always having to convince you to get on board with whatever I want.”
“You want me to complain less and fuck you more?” I ask, as anger starts to bubble within me, all thoughts about him treating me kindly flying out the window along with my pride.
He shrugs his shoulders. “If you want to put it crudely…”
I look between him and the money, completely caught off guard by what he just said. Up until this moment, I thought I was giving him everything, and a little piece inside me begins to crack at the realization that maybe he hasn’t liked being around me as much as I liked being around him. I blink tears away as they start to flood my eyes.
“Oh, come on, Evi, don’t be like that. Just hang out with me, don’t complain so much, and let me show you what real fun can be like.”
“Rhett …”
He interrupts me. “I’m trying to help you, Evi, really, I am. I’ve never steered you in the wrong direction before, so why would I now? So just say thank you, accept our deal, and take the money.” He sits on the couch, watching me quietly.
My thoughts race as I try to make sense of what I’m agreeing to, trying to piece together why he might want a deal like this, but I can’t figure it out. I wonder if it could really be all that bad borrowing money from him, letting him have this sway over me until I pay him back. But with rent due tomorrow, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, so I shove my pride and common sense aside, needing the money more than anything else right now.
“Thank you,” I murmur, wanting this conversation to end and for us to go back to normal again, or whatever version of normal I just agreed to.
“Ah, she has brains, after all.” He snickers, rubbing his hands together as he wanders to the kitchen. I try to ignore the hurt in my chest resurfacing, focusing instead on the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing, the clink of ice, and liquid pouring. I stare at the money beside me, a bit of relief mixing with the rest of my feelings, knowing that I’ll be able to pay off my loans in full today and will only have to worry about rent from here on out. Rent, and paying back Rhett.
I try to push the feelings of guilt aside after accepting his support, the sheer amount of cash beside me showing just how much I was in over my head, but I’ve never felt so wrong asking for help before.
Rhett returns a moment later, walking over to me with a swagger that only a man who has gotten what he wants could have.
He hands me a glass of what smells like a very expensive bottle of scotch, and it burns as I throw it back quickly, calming my nerves and quieting the thoughts swirling in my head, giving me some relief from the emotions I’m trying to make sense of.
He sinks onto the couch beside me, taking off his watch and placing it next to the money, before taking a sip out of his own glass, his eyes never leaving mine.
His glass clinks as he sets it on the table, freeing his hand so he can reach into his pocket, producing a bag of white powder.
He smiles at me broadly. “Since we’re officially in business together, we should celebrate.”
“Rhett, I can’t …”
He cuts me off. “That’s not very amicable, Evi,” he states blandly.
“Right.” I hesitate.
“A deal is a deal, so let’s just have some fun. Plus, it’s just coke… It’s not like you haven’t done this before…” He trails off as he cuts lines for us, reaching down and snorting one first.
Despite the uneasy feeling in my stomach, I follow his lead, bending down and inhaling the white powder quickly, the burn in my nostrils immediate. I cough, trying to clear my throat as drips begin to coat the back of my mouth.
He leans towards me, unbuttoning his shirt and carelessly throwing it over the arm of the chair adjacent to us. His hands reach for me, his touch firm against my soft skin.
“Just give me a second, Rhett…” I start.
“Oh, come on, Evi, we’re just having fun remember? Money in exchange for more… enthusiasm.”
I don’t even know how to reply, unsure of how I feel about this part of the deal.
“Now, want to be amicable and open your legs for me? Coke always makes me want to… well.” There’s a predatory look behind his eyes as the words come out of his mouth, an order disguised as a question. He moves a hand from me down to his waist, and moments later, his belt buckle clatters open and his fly unzips under his quick fingers. Pushing my shoulders back so I’m lying on the couch, I can’t help but wonder how big of a mistake I made borrowing money from him. I rack my brain, trying to make sense of his sudden change in behavior.
Was he always like this?I think to myself as I remember bright blue eyes looking at me with interest and care, not with greed and want.
Have I seen flashes of this side of him before but was just too busy drinking and smoking weed to notice, or is it the lines of cocaine making him act this way?
Or maybe the tangible shift in energy was due to the power dynamic, me now owing him money, I think. I know at this point I’m just looking for an answer.
“Open your legs,” he says, his voice bored at having to ask again.
I don’t know what I’m more ashamed of, the drugs, my choice in men, or the fact that I am so malleable in his presence that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to stand up for myself.
I consider doing just that, pushing up off of the couch, explaining how this was all a mistake, and leaving as if it never happened.
But I need the money.I remind myself. And he’s had this before. I think solemnly. My knees part and he lowers himself down on top of me, no gentleness or care as he pushes my dress up and pulls my underwear to the side.
In one quick thrust he’s inside of me, and I gasp as he busies himself taking what he wants.
“Oh, fuck baby, you feel so good. Maybe you are worth the cost of coke these days.” He chuckles. I flinch, both at the lack of pleasure and the insult. As his pace quickens and his touch roughens, I can barely breathe as he takes me, not bothering to keep some of his weight off me.
He continues to take what he feels he is owed, and I close my eyes and think about what it would be like if things were different. If all the choices I made led down a different path, rather than here: Underneath a guy, trading sex for drugs and a loan. The thought sends a shiver down my spine as the disgust I feel towards myself rises to the surface.
“See? I knew you’d like it like this,” he mutters, seemingly mistaking my shiver of disgust with desire for him. My body moves with the mechanical beat of him pumping, his hands digging into my waist and shoulder for more leverage, and he’s seemingly unaware of my lackluster participation. The rhythm picks up and I close my eyes, trying to find some semblance of pleasure in the moment, but it’s futile. My thoughts are consumed by the emptiness within me, a void that weighs heavy with the cost of my decisions.
I try to push the thoughts away, trying to focus on the physical sensations, but it’s no use. My mind wanders, and I find myself thinking about how much I hate myself for doing this. For being here, for being with him, and I stare at the white baggie on the glass table beside us.
As Rhett finishes, I lay there, feeling nothing but his damp sweat against my skin and hearing nothing but my own rapid breathing. He rolls off me, and for a moment we’re both silent. I get up, the evidence of our activities running down my legs, and reach for the baggie on the table. I dump the powder, and snort lines until I can no longer feel anything.