“I’m trusting you,” he said, touching my hair, twirling a curl with his index finger, “I’m taking you out in public with me when you could make a scene, when you could try to run away from me. I think you know that it’d be very stupid to do either. I think you know you’re lucky that you’re not still tied to my bed. I’m trusting that you won’t do anything stupid. Compromise. I’m trusting you. You give me some of that back.”
I backed away, not wanting him to touch me and hating that this was a veiled warning for me to not try to get away tonight. It had occurred to me, of course it had. I could sneak out the bathroom window; I could hope someone else was in the bathroom and tell someone in the bathroom that they needed to call the cops. But I hadn’t hatched a real plan because I didn’t know how to do it without putting Dad and the Crenshaws at risk.
What choice did I have about this little game, though? He was repeatedly letting me know he was in charge and I didn’t feel like I had much choice in the role I’d play.
I’d had fleeting thoughts in the past about joining the community theatre. Maybe I could just look at this night as being in a play, playing a role. Couldn’t I? Could I pull it off? I wasn’t sure if I was capable.
“I don’t like to talk consequences, Tia, because it’s usually not necessary. Most people who know me know what they put at stake when they cross me. But maybe you and I should have that conversation. Just this once.”
“We don’t need to have that conversation.” I said, not wanting him to make it impossible for me to play this role tonight. But by the look in his eyes, I think he wanted to scare me. And he was. Every hair on my body was at attention.
“Let’s just say this, then. Let’s just say that all you hold dear is at stake with me, Tia. Now, tomorrow, twenty years from now. Always. I don’t forget debts and won’t forgive betrayal. Capeche?”
He arched a brow so I nodded.
Tommy
This was going to be a fun experiment. I’d get to see what she was made of. Could she be convincing or would it take some work to get her to be as perfect outside of the bedroom as she was in it?
Now she seemed like she was trying to mentally prepare herself for her acting role. We sat in the car for a few minutes while I checked my voicemail messages and then I got out of the car and she motioned to open her door. I held an index finger up, signaling her to wait while I walked around and opened the door for her. She got out of the car and looked up at me,
“Chivalry should be shot dead and pissed on,” she flashed a look of disgust at me.
“And why is that?” I was taken aback.
“Because it’s one of the things that keeps women oppressed.”
I was a little shocked at her comment and her brashness. She flashed a smile at me, “This is me. The real me.”
I laughed, a big open-mouthed laugh. She looked embarrassed, “Well, I guess I’m an old-fashioned guy. I’ll be oppressing you every chance I get. Opening the door for you is something you should look on as a gift, my treating you like a queen. My queen.”
Her face was red. I kissed her on the temple and held my elbow out. She gulped hesitantly took it.
The maître d greeted me excitedly, “Mr. Tommy, so nice to see you!”
“Augustus, this is Tia.”
He lamented for 20-30 seconds about how gorgeous she was and how nice it was to meet her. Yeah, she was but he was laying it on a bit thick. I gave him a look. He pulled himself together and kissed her hand and led us to a table and immediately brought over a bottle of red wine and poured glasses for us. A waiter brought bread to the table and menus were presented. He spoke to me in Italian about the specials prepared for the evening. When they were gone, I leaned over and reached for her hand and skimmed my thumb across her knuckles. She didn’t pull away and her face revealed nothing but a warm-looking smile. I returned the smile, gave her a look that showed I was pleased with her.
Tia
We were sitting across the table from one another at a really romantic Italian restaurant with red and white checkered tablecloths, soft lighting, candles, and I’d decided to try to pretend that I was on a date with the guy from the ice cream parlor.
I figured it’d be the only way I could pull off the feat of acting like I was happy or even open-minded about being in his company. I didn’t think I could pull off acting like I was happy to be sitting here with Tommy Ferrano, the guy who had done all those awful things to me, so I tried, instead, to rewind the clock in my head and pretend that the gorgeous hunk from the ice cream parlor hadn’t morphed into the sadistic criminal who’d threatened to sell me into slavery.
I decided that this wasn’t the guy holding me for some ransom that could never be paid. This wasn’t the guy who’d spanked me, getting off on my pain, who’d tricked me into sex and then forced sex on me. This man didn’t tie me to his bed and screw me, making me cry from embarrassment at responding to him. I tried my hardest to rewind my brain to when I first saw him. What if I could be here in this nice restaurant with the gorgeous guy from the ice cream parlor who’d given me an outrageous tip, who’d flirted with me, who’d winked at me with some unspoken promise? That’d be nice. That unspoken promise wasn’t going to be a nightmare. This was just a date. My loved ones hadn’t been threatened, my future hadn’t been stolen, and I wasn’t being forced to sleep in the bed and the arms of a criminal. I wasn’t being forced into anything.
I decided I had to try to make myself believe that I was here on a date with the gorgeous guy I’d met at the ice cream parlor. Thinking like this was the only way I figured I could pull it off.
“Mind if I order for you?” he asked me, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb. There was light in his eyes, not darkness, making it easier for me to pretend.
“Sure,” I said, “Just no shellfish. I’m highly allergic.”
He nodded, then he spoke Italian to the waiter.
“I heard you’re half Italian. You speak it?” he asked after the order was taken.
“No, my Mom was Italian but she never taught me. She only spoke it in the house when she was yelling at my Dad or using it to keep some secret from me talking on the phone or whatever. We never un