CHAPTER SIX

NATALIE

I touched the cool blade of the knife under my pillow as I laid my head down and wondered if I would ever need it again. 

At that point I felt certain that Sol wouldn't attack me. He didn't even want to touch me when I offered myself to him. 

I flipped on my back to stare at the ceiling, sorting through the conflicting thoughts in my mind and sensations in my body. 

I felt confused, embarrassed. Possibly even rejected? I couldn't even begin to explain why. Not even twenty-four hours ago, I would have been thrilled that a man didn't want to force himself inside me. I prayed endlessly that they weren't in the mood for a blue-eyed blonde, and yet hated myself for wishing them on another girl instead.

But I never got passed up when offered. Until just moments ago in the kitchen. I should have been relieved but I felt the sting of rejection instead. 

And when my hand felt the heat from his skin and the hardness of the muscles underneath, my body had opened up with its own response. My pulse had quickened with desire and wetness pooled at my core. I suddenly wanted to be touched back, to be filled. 

Lust, arousal and the embarrassment of making a wrong move. These feelings and sensations brought back distant memories I hadn't recalled in months. Like butterflies in my stomach when I had crushes on cute guys. Sex bringing pleasure and intimacy rather than pain and disgust. 

Those feelings of flirting, tension, and that fear of rejection that made the whole thing exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.

The hazy memories played out in my head like a movie reel. I watched as an outside observer, like they happened to someone else instead of me. The girl in those scenes died at some point and I was all that was left of her. 

At some point during my mental wheel-spinning, I eventually did fall asleep. 

My eyes shot open to light streaming in through the window and faint music playing downstairs. There was no clock in the room but the sun was high in the sky.

How long have I been out?

I didn't even remember falling asleep and it was completely nightmare free. For the first time in ages, I felt refreshed and well-rested.

My face grew hot at the thought of facing Sol after my awful attempt at sleeping with him last night. He'd likely have no problem with pretending it never happened, but could I?

The music grew louder as I hesitantly made my way down the stairs. It was a male singer in a foreign language, probably Italian. 

Humming along with the music as she swept a broom across the floor was a middle-aged woman with curly dark hair, a white blouse, and dark capri pants. I paused halfway down the steps, darting my eyes around for any signs of Sol.

The woman must have sensed me and looked up, pausing her sweeping. 

"Ah, you must be Natalie," she said, her eyebrows raising above her large brown eyes as she took me in. "You are prettier than I expected but hey, that's Sol's taste for ya. Skinny as a twig, though. Get enough sleep, did ya?" 

I blinked, slightly intimidated. This woman had a New York accent and clearly was the type to say whatever was on her mind. 

"Um, yeah. Thanks," I managed to get out, staying glued to my spot. 

"Don't look so scared, kid. I'm not gonna bite your head off." The woman gave a kind smile. "I'm Netta. Sol's neighbor, housekeeper, babysitter, what have ya. Basically his wife with none of the benefits, not that I want any with that guy! But hey, I'm bored and retired, he pays cash, and I love that cute kid of his. So it ain't a bad gig."

"Uh, nice to meet you." I felt a bit overloaded with information but more at ease. "Where is Sol?"

"Working. He'll be home with Ari in a couple hours when he picks her up from school."

I nodded, relieved that we wouldn't be alone together. Hopefully, his daughter would keep him busy enough to dissipate any lingering awkwardness and tension between us.

“Hey, you hungry?” Netta asked. “I made a big bowl of pasta primavera that should last about a week. Lord knows that kid needs her damn vegetables.” 

“Thanks,” I said, continuing down the stairs with my stomach growling. Since having access to real food, I became insatiable. 

My bloody red footprints from last night were gone. Netta made no mention of them as she continued her sweeping so I assumed Sol cleaned them up before she got there. Did she even know what Sol’s real job was? What did he tell her about me? 

The question stabbed at me as I helped myself to a bowl of colorful pasta and vegetables, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. I went with a more innocent question instead.

“How long have I been asleep?” 

“Well, it’s just past noon. So depending on what time you went to bed, anywhere between twelve and sixteen hours. Oh, I almost forgot!” Netta set aside her broom and dustpan and picked up several shopping bags from the couch. When she brought them over to me, my eyes widened at brand names like Anthropologie, Kate Spade, and Marc Jacobs printed on the sides of the bags.

“Sol said you needed clothes so I picked up some things for ya this morning. Didn’t know your size or style so I went to a few different places and got things in different sizes. Just pick out whatcha want and I’ll return the rest. Although you might wanna size up a little ‘cause you could afford to gain a few pounds, missy.”

“I can’t accept any of this!” I cried. “This stuff is too nice.” 

Netta gave me a curious look. 

“Listen, Natalie. You seem like a nice, bright girl who got her future stolen away from her. I can’t pretend to know what you’ve been through but I know you’ve suffered. The least you deserve is some nice clothes that won’t fall apart in a year.” 

As if controlled by someone else, my fingers reached out to touch the soft fabric of the Anthropologie sweater in the closest bag to me. That would feel like pure heaven on my skin. 

“At least let me pay you back for them,” I pleaded. “I don’t know when or how, but--”

“Sol is reimbursing me. Don’t worry about it,” Netta said with a hand up. “Trust me, honey. Don’t worry about money.”

“I can’t just give nothing back!” I said. “He’s already letting me stay here and protecting me.” And he won’t even take my body as payment like all other men have.

“Tell ya what.” Netta reached into a closet and pulled out a feather duster on a long, extendable rod. “You’re taller and lighter than my wide Italian ass. Finish your lunch and get the cobwebs in the high corners. I don’t need to be standing on ladders and breaking my damn neck.” 

I smiled widely, feeling strangely ecstatic at the thought of doing something mundane, normal and useful besides being something for a man to stick his dick into. 

“I’ll get started on it right now.”