Stephanie
Each step through the concrete hallway from the locker rooms to the parking lot at Reyes boxing makes my body tense.
The further I get, the less safe I feel.
A minute ago, I felt strong.
There was something in front of me that I could hit. There was someone standing behind me who knew what they were doing. There was someone behind me who was teaching me how to protect myself.
I was in control. It was like, if I could just learn enough, maybe, I could protect myself. I could be brave. At least a little bit.
Now? I’m by myself again. And as bad as things were yesterday, I know today is going to be worse.
On the way out of the gym, I pass by a couple cops at the front desk, hovering over Ana Maria. For a second, I think about tell them my problem and then shove that idea away because I know that’d just be making things worse.
I take my time getting back to the shop. I drive around back roads and down side streets and circle the block at least a dozen time.
When I pull into the parking lot at the store I know I was right about how today’s going to turn out.
It’s broad daylight and Yuri’s there. Waiting for me.
Waiting with a smile that has nothing right or good about it.
He’s leaning back against the drivers side door of a black moving van, smoking a cigarette and staring right into me as I get out of my car.
I’m fresh meat to this predator. He knows it, I know it.
That’ll change, some day. I’ll make it happen, whatever it takes.
He flicks the butt of his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his heel, and trails behind me as I get out of my car.
I don’t answer Sabrina when she asks me how I’m doing.
I just keep walking, with Yuri as my shadow.
I’m almost glad the shop’s empty. I don’t want anyone around to see what’s going to happen. I don’t want anyone raising a fuss because I know Yuri’s the type to get violent.
We go right into my office and I shut the door behind me.
“My little bitch is in a whole mess of trouble.”
I’m not surprised.
“What do you want, Yuri?”
“It’s not what I want. If it was, I’d fuck you bloody and use your tears for lube. This is about what he wants. Vladimir had a chat with your father this morning. He decided that we’re going to make use of some of your space.”
Every few words, he takes a step closer to me and I take a step backward.
I’m against the wall and he is right in my face and I can smell what he ate for breakfast this morning.
“If this is about being short on the payment, I can talk to some of my friend and I can come up with the difference.”
He shakes his head and puts one of his grubby fingers on my lips, then presses harder, trying to jam it right into my mouth.
The creep probably wants me to suck on it.
I hold my jaw shut.
“There’s nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. The decision’s already been made. You’re going to clear out some space in your back stockroom, and we’re going to keep a few things here. Then, at some later point, someone will come along to pick them up and you’ll hand them over. Got it?”
I force myself to nod. I can’t open my mouth to talk, because the second I do, he’ll be at me again.
“Let’s go,” he says. “Now.”
He drags me out of my office, through the back of the store, to our stock room.
Our stock room isn’t big. It doesn’t need to be. There’s a few racks of steel shelving for extras on our hot sellers, and another few racks for some extra lumber and the few in-house power tools we use to cut wood for special orders. A roll-up door leads out onto our small concrete loading bay.
“Open the door. I’m going to bring the van around. You clear a couple shelves.”
The work goes by quickly, and I’m halfway done by the time Yuri’s even got the van in our loading dock.
He watches me, smile on his face, as I move box after box.
Once the shelves are clear, he opens the van, and jerks his head towards a few bulky-looking crates sitting on the floor of the van.
“Get to work, princess. Bring them in.”
He doesn’t lift a finger while I break my back unloading the van.
“Be careful with those,” he says. “That’s valuable stuff you got there. Worth more than your pathetic little life.”
Every time I bend to pick up a new crate, he cracks me on the ass and tells me to work harder. Every time I grunt to heft one of the crates onto the shelf, he tells me how sexy I sound and how he hopes I’ll make those same noises when he fucks me.
If I falter, he reminds me of what will happen to me if I drop a box.
When I’m done, I feel less than human.
I’m just a thing for them to use.
“You can go now,” I say.
I turn my head down.
Hot tears are burning at the corners of my eyes, but I’m not going to let him see them.
He chuckles.
“Until next time, sweetheart,” he says, leering at me.
I can feel him eye-fucking me.
I stay like that, frozen, until I hear his van start up and drive away.
As soon as I’m sure he’s gone, I turn and leave, slamming the door behind me and storming into my office.