Penny #2
Maybe it’s the way he put emphasis on the word “whatever.” A depraved thought crosses my mind.
What if he wants something sexual?
He wouldn’t.
Right?
“How will that work when I’m returning to Toronto tomorrow morning?”
“You aren’t. You’re going to spend the next two weeks here with me.”
I recoil with a scoff. “What? No. I have a job and a life.”
“The only job and life you’ll have if you return to Toronto empty-handed is spreading your legs for that loan shark. For other men too once he gets bored of you.”
Jacob’s retort makes me uncomfortable. It’s too crass. Too accurate. Cedric already made it clear he’s willing to pimp me out to pay off the debt.
I squeeze my hands into tight fists.
“You’re being unreasonable and you’re taking advantage of me.”
He lets out a short, humourless laugh.
“I can say the same about you. It’s unreasonable for you to ask me for thousands of dollars after you torched how I earned a living. You took advantage of the fact that I used to be your stepfather too. You’re in trouble and Mommy’s gone, so you run crying to Daddy.”
“You’re not my daddy.”
His smile makes me uneasy. There’s something sinister about it.
“Do you accept my offer?”
Hell no.
The words almost come out. I hold them in. He’s backed me into a corner but he’s also the one who can help me out of it. I can’t let my anger take control and jeopardize what’s at stake.
“I want proof you have the money, and something signed that says you’ll give it when the two weeks are up.”
“You’ll get neither.”
I let out an exasperated sound and lay my hands palms-down on the table.
“I can’t give up two weeks of my life without a guarantee that I’ll be better for it afterwards.”
He leans forward. “You and your mother made me give up a lot more than two weeks.”
“Oh, I see. This is tit for tat.”
“Do you accept, Penelope? That’s the last time I’m going to ask.”
Dear god, why? Another day, another moment to choose between two terrible options, and one of them includes Jacob.
My choice is predictable at this point. I grit my teeth as I let out a long exhale through my nose.
“I accept.”
“That’s good.” He leans back with a satisfied look on his face. “Now the first thing I’d like from you is an apology.”
I take another long breath to quell my anger. Regardless of how poorly he’s treating me tonight, I can’t forget that what I did to him was much worse. Besides, he deserves an apology he finds acceptable. Maybe he will this time.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did to you, Jacob. It was wrong. I shouldn’t—”
He raises his hand. “Stop. Vague, empty words aren’t going to work. That’s lazy. The proper way to apologize to someone is to own your wrongdoing with courage. You do that by admitting out loud exactly what you did.”
“I’m sorry for…” My voice is less committed to the task this time, shame stifling it. “I’m sorry for falsely accusing you of—of raping my mother.”
I die on the inside, wishing I could hide from those awful words. The awful truth. The awful thing I did to win my mother’s love… and, in the end, it didn’t work.
“That’s decent, but I prefer something a little more earnest. I want you to say, ‘I’m sorry I was a dirty fucking liar. Please forgive me.’” That unfriendly smile curves his lips again. “And I want you to kneel in front of me while you do. Really convince me that you’re remorseful.”
Fresh anger heats my face.
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Then that’s ten grand deducted from the thirty. Every time you disobey, it’s another ten lost.” He wags a finger. “Three strikes, you’re out.”
My fingers curl into tight fists on the table. If I kneel for him, I might punch whatever part of him that’s closest to me. Amusement fills his eyes as if he can read the violent thoughts floating through my mind and finds them funny.
Of course he does. This is a game and he’s rooting for me to lose. If I win, he has to pay me thirty thousand dollars.
He wins if I play, and there’s no guarantee he’ll give me the money in the end. Maybe his ultimate goal is to use me then screw me over. Tit for tat.
Don’t play.
I have to.
Run away.
I won’t. I can’t.
With wooden movements, I stand and step free from the table. Jacob watches me as I approach him, turning in his seat to face me when I’m beside him. He glances at my hands still clenched at my sides.
“Do you want to hit me?”
“Yes.”
“Hm. An honest answer from a dirty fucking liar.” He indicates the space on the floor at his feet. “Go ahead.”
Humiliation weighs on my shoulders, growing heavier as I reluctantly sink to my knees.
I thought I had principles, strong opinions on things I would never do as a woman. Kneeling for a man would’ve been one of them if it had ever crossed my mind.
But I’m learning tonight that principles and strong opinions are suddenly insignificant when the price is right.
“I’m sorry…” I swallow, clasp my hands in front of me, and fix my gaze on the spot between his bare feet. “I’m sorry I was a dirty fucking liar. Please forgive me.”
“Say it again.”
I put more strength in the words.
“I’m sorry I was a dirty fucking liar. Please forgive me.”
“Again.”
My fingers squeeze tighter in their clasp as shame burns away my anger, and I’m left with acceptance.
Not only did I agree to this, I brought it on myself the moment I walked into the room that night nearly a decade ago. This humiliating punishment is more than deserved.
“I’m sorry I was a dirty fucking liar. Please forgive me.”
“Look at me, Penelope.”
I raise my head and blink away tears as I meet his cold gaze.
“You’re going to say it two more times, and you’ll kiss my feet after each one.”