Chapter 11
Eleven
SIMON
I waited for them to comment on my career and try to shame me. I was nice before their stupid prank. A face full of clay was nothing compared to what I normally did to those who insulted me, but I wouldn’t take shaming me lightly.
Feigrind only nodded. And the other one, who I recognized as one of the barbarians who brought me to the village, looked curious, not disgusted.
“How many languages, exactly? Later in the season, we send a small party to trade with other clans. They deal more with outsiders than we do. You might find someone to your liking there who would be happy to have a translator present.”
I wasn’t interested in finding someone else in the clans, but I didn’t point that out. I was getting tired of repeating myself.
Feigrind stiffened and his brow furrowed, like he didn't like Uttin’s idea. I narrowed my eyes. I’d assume jealousy if I thought he was interested in males, but so far, he’d shown no signs of that.
“Simon, what in the world are you making?” Maman demanded.
I looked down at the clay I was working with. I wasn’t actually paying attention to it. The movement of the table was an afterthought. I was just playing with it. But the lumpy bowl got squished a bit with my lack of focus, making it too oddly shaped to be used to eat.
“Something decorative, maybe?” Uttin suggested innocently.
I snorted. “No. I wasn’t paying attention. I’ll just start again.”
Instead of leaving like he did the day before, Feigrind sat in front of me, his legs crossed as he watched me work. It confused me, and I made a face at him.
“What? I’m not going to run. I don’t have a death wish.”
“That is good to know,” he replied easily. He still didn’t get up. Even after Uttin wandered away, he did not move. I shot a frown at Maman, but she just shrugged.
“He is overprotective. It is his way. It makes him a good warrior and a good protector.”
“I don’t need his protection,” I growled, giving him a pointed look. “I need a way home. Will you give me that?”
When he looked up at me, that blank look was back, showing he wouldn’t take the bait of arguing with me. A part of me liked that I could say what I wanted without pissing him off. But it also made me want to poke at him until he finally broke.
No one ever called me nice.
Maman got up, puttering away to check on the pots she had in the nearby fire. I took the opportunity to push a little. “What happens when I get bored here? I’m used to daily sex. You’re my protector. Are you going to take care of me?”
I was taunting him, but also trying to get an answer to a question. I needed to know if I had a shot because if I was going to be stuck here until they finally let me go home, I was not going that long without sex.
It would be worse than torture.
“Do you want me to?” he asked casually.
The nonanswer annoyed me, and I glared at him. “Don’t answer the question with a question. Are you attracted to men or not?”
“No.”
It was a straightforward answer; had it been anyone else, I would’ve accepted it. I didn’t take offense when men weren’t interested. I had plenty wrapped around my finger who were. But it bothered me for some reason. I didn’t want to look too deeply into why.
“Does this bother you?”
The confusing feelings made me lash out, hissing at him. “No. I don’t care. I could have any man I wanted in my town. Why would I care if you don’t want me?”
It was a lie. I cared. And I hated myself for it.
“You are very beautiful, Simon. But I have never been with a man before. I cannot say it is something I would enjoy.”
“You would with me,” I growled defensively. I was the best. Not even Quincy could deny that.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Considering your job, I don’t doubt that. But I am interested in females.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why does it have to be one or the other? Plenty are interested in both.” Not me. I found women tedious. But not all the men I serviced were solely interested in men. There were times when Chanel and I would pair together with a client so they could fuck us both. As long as I wasn’t required to do anything with her, I was okay with it.
His brows furrowed slightly. We were speaking the same language now, and still, he didn’t understand me. I gave up. I wasn’t going to pout and whine to convince someone to want me. If he wasn’t interested, it was his loss.
Since I already spoke the language, which shocked a lot of people, when someone brought up returning to Finn’s lessons, I wasn’t required to go. I was glad for that, since I wasn’t interested in going anywhere near the guy. Instead, I spent my time with Maman or sat out of the way and watched Feigrind train with the other warriors. It was a more relaxed kind of living than I was used to, sort of like a vacation, but after a few days, I grew frustrated with the routine.
“You can’t just keep me here! I’m not your bed warmer!”
“No,” Feigrind agreed. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
Usually, the insult wouldn’t bother me. I didn’t give a shit what people thought of me. But he was the only person I really talked to, and I was sick of him and his little comments. It was rainy and cold, so we were spending the day in his tent. He needed to learn a lesson that it was a bad idea to piss me off when he was stuck in a small space with me.
“If you don’t take me home, I’ll make you regret it!” I threatened.
He stared blankly at me. Still so patient and unbothered by my outbursts. It irritated the hell out of me, and what little control I had on my temper disappeared into nothingness.
“Don’t make me hurt you.”
He smirked. “I’d like to see you try, little brat.”
Well, he asked for it.
I didn’t throw myself at him. He’d expect that. Instead, I feigned storming out of the tent. He didn’t know I wouldn’t force myself into that cold, rainy weather on pain of death and stood to follow me with a resigned sigh. Before he could even fully get to his feet, I swung around and used my elbow in his gut. It hurt —he was basically just a rock wall of muscle—but it did take him by surprise enough to make him stumble. I used the reaction to my advantage, shoving him so that he toppled backwards. What surprised me was when his hand darted out to grab my new tunic, and he dragged me down with him.
With a screech, I lashed out when I landed on top of him, managing to punch him in the jaw. I yelped as my hand throbbed because of it.
“What are you made of? Stone?” I demanded, wriggling free of my tunic to get away from him. He was way too big. If he pinned me, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
He clearly wasn't expecting me to shed my clothes to get away from him because he glanced at my tunic with a frown for a second, giving me back the upper hand. I pounced, landing on his chest, and drew back my hand for another punch. He caught my wrist before I could land it, though, and effortlessly twisted to put me beneath him.
Thankfully, he didn’t immediately drop his weight, and with some quick maneuvering, I managed to wiggle free, but he didn’t let me get away. He scooped one giant arm around me, crushing me against his chest, and no amount of wiggling was helping me get away. He caught my hand when I tried to punch him over my shoulder, too, switching to the other hand so it was trapped against my chest.
“Get off!” I demanded, still fighting even though I was definitely trapped. Maybe I could kick him in the balls. He’d definitely let go if I did that. Except he saw right through me, and before I could even try, he dropped one leg on top of mine, pinning them too.
“Do you forfeit?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. It pissed me off, and I felt my face flush with anger.
“Never,” I growled, digging my nails into his arm. He didn’t even flinch. Bastard.
“You have not yet been here a week. You cannot know you won’t be happy here already. Give it more time.”
“Oh, fuck you!” I snapped. “You stole me from my home! You don’t get to tell me where I’ll be happy! I was happy where I was!”
“Really?” he asked, somehow sounding completely unaffected. Meanwhile, I was breathing heavily, desperately trying to get free. How he managed to hold me with care while completely immobilizing me was beyond me.
“Given the choice between your life before and living here in a place of honor, would you truly choose there?”
“Yes! At least there, I had a choice!”
“But did you really?”
I froze, confused. Of course, I’d had a choice. I didn't have to take on clients who I wasn’t interested in. I could’ve walked away if I wanted to.
Except… not really. I was only ever good at one thing. Sex. Whether at Quincy’s place or somewhere else, it was the only job I knew. The only job I’d ever be hired to do. No one would hire a former whore in any other job. They’d risk people recognizing me and shaming the business. It was my choice to stay, but what other option did I have?
Feigrind’s grip on me loosened, but he didn’t fully release me. He held me against him, like he knew I was conflicted and understood. Like he was offering me comfort. I hated it. I hated that he saw me as weak. But after I shoved him away and put space between us, I hated the loss of his comfort even more.