Aislynn

"That isn't any sort of concern for a lady," he said quickly, turning away. "As far as you know, I just work with... animals. That's all. Animal control."

"Animal control?" she asked, almost angrily as she looked at the flag again.

"Yes," he hissed, stepping closer, his eyes going a little psychotic as he looked down at her. "Animals. Fucking. Animals. Is that an issue for you?" he demanded.

"No," she answered, refusing to look at him.

"You been with a man?" he asked, his tone dark.

"Of course."

"How many? What color?"

"What?"

"What fucking color? What were their names?" he demanded, in a rage now as he gripped her by the hair and pulled her down to the concrete. He pressed his knife to her throat as she let out a small whimpering scream.

"Aaron! His name was Aaron!" she wailed, gripping his wrist in terror. "Aaron Westmoreland!"

"The professional golfer?" he asked, confused.

"Yes... we went to school together, before he got famous. He was my boyfriend."

He barked a laugh. "You know he is one of us, don't you?" he demanded with a derisive laugh. "Him and his whole family for generations."

"I am aware. There's a reason he's my ex."

Cutter sneered down at her, pressing her to the cold cement floor with a hand to her throat. "Who else?"

"He is all. We... we only just broke up last year and I didn't want to date again until I was out of college. Please... let me up. It's cold."

He gave her another sneering look as his eyes took her in again. He let her go and stood up, watching her as she got up as well. He slid his knife back in the sheath and watched her as she hugged herself.

Aislynn looked down at the ground, wishing she were bigger and stronger. Wishing she had the nerve to punch him in the mouth. Creep.

"Go make some food," he demanded.

She gave him an incredulous look. "I'm not a servant, or a..."

"Shut up! It's what girlfriends do, they cook! They cook and clean and... keep house and shit."

"This isn't the 50's! I..."

"I said shut up! You'll do it!"

"I am NOT your girlfriend!" she raged, lifting a glass off of the counter and smashing it on the floor. She picked up another and he caught her hand quickly as he lifted her off the floor.

"Don't! You will cut your feet! Don't do that! Stop acting this way or I will be forced to punish you! And you ARE my girlfriend. I said so!"

"I'm NOT!"

"You don't get to say no! I said yes! Sit yourself down right there till I clean up that glass and don't you move or say a word! Not one damned word! And no more breaking anything!"

He left her sitting on the bed and stormed back to the kitchen area to sweep up the glass. He also dialed a number as he did and held the phone to his ear.

"John," he snapped. "I need more information. She's saying no about being my girlfriend, how do I make her know that she is? Without hurting her... No, I did that. A stupid bear... She was yelling and saying she wouldn't cook for me and she broke a glass. Threw it and broke it... Not at me, at the floor... I can't? Why not? That's bullshit... I know, but she can cook, she said so, there's no reason she can't. She just won't... What if I don't want to? Ok, fine. What about... other things. You know... after dark things. In bed... Only the ones you told me to rape... Why would I? Because I never wanted one before, why does it matter? I'm asking now... I don't know, I didn't ask her... Yeah, she aint a virgin. Aaron Westmoreland had her... Yeah, she knows... No, I don't think she does... How do I find out? I've never done that, how do I do that? What videos? Like on youtube? Oh.. No, I don't watch those... Just shut up and tell me what to watch... That's what it's called? What about the other ones? Ok, that all? With... my mouth?!?! I don't think she will let me do that... No! John, I told you, I'm keeping her... No, she isn't really, not yet. She's getting used to the idea first... Yeah she'd run if she got away, what kind of question is that? No, I told you, I took her... So what do I do then? I told her already she was my girlfriend, she said no. Should I just say she is my wife and make her a wife? How did you make Lydia be your wife? Why can't I just tell her she is? That sounds like a lot of bullshit... So I should tie her up? No, I left and she didn't try and get away and she aint tried to hurt me either... Yeah, she had access to the knives... No, I told you, she is tiny... Maybe 75 soaking wet? 4'10"? Fuck if I know... Look, I just want to make her understand things. That she's my girlfriend now... You will? When? Ok, what do I do till then? Do I have to?" he asked with a dark scowl. "Fine. Fuck. This is bullshit... No, I ain't got no clothes for her. She threw up on hers and I had to throw them out... Because I don't know how to get puke out of clothes! Why would she know... Fine, I'll ask her. This is all bullshit. How do you know so much about girls? No, never cared before... That's different, we work together... Look, I don't care, just.. Stay on call, ok? No. I'd rather be in a gunfight with one clip left than have to figure this shit out. Bye."

He hung up and tossed his phone angrily before dumping the glass and crossing the room again.

He looked surly. "What do you want for dinner?" he asked with a glare.

Aislynn looked up at him warily. "I'm not really hungry."

"Just say what you want so I can go fucking buy it!" he screamed.

Aislynn flinched and covered her head with her arms as she balled up. "I don't care! I don't! I will have whatever you like! Just get what you like and I will have it too!"

"I fucking asked YOU what YOU wanted! Just answer the damned question!"

Aislynn broke down sobbing. "I don't know! I don't know! What are you asking me? From the grocery store? Fast food? From a restaurant? Please, just give me some frame of reference?"

He blew out an angry breath. "Just say what you want and whatever it is, I will go to any of those places and get it! For fucks sake!"

"Stop yelling at me!" she screamed back. "You can't kidnap me and yell at me and terrorize me and then get mad when I don't feel like eating! I'm NOT your girlfriend! I'm not going to be your girlfriend! Or your wife! I am a girl you kidnapped and that's ALL! That is all I will ever be!"

"SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH!" he raged, grabbing her by the throat and shoving her down to the bed as he tightened his fingers.

She struggled and kicked, slapping at his hands as he choked her.

He released her suddenly, springing back as he grabbed his head with a roar.

Aislynn sucked in a breath and coughed, rolling away as she sobbed. She fell to the floor and pressed her face to the cold concrete as she tried to get enough air in to breathe.

The door slammed, but she hardly heard it as she blinked away the black spots in her vision.

When he came back, she was curled up in the bathtub, hot water up to her chin as she laid her head against the side.

"There's clothes," he snapped. "I got you some. And tacos. You get tacos. Come on. Get out of the water."

Aislynn cowered behind the edge, not looking at him as she waited for him to step out so she could dry off.

He huffed angrily and bent over her, pulling the plug on the water.

"I will!" she whispered hoarsely. "Please! I am just waiting for privacy!"

He made an angry noise, but left. She hurried and wrapped in the towel, then stood there a little helpless. He hadn't brought the clothes into the bathroom with him, which meant they were out there with him. Should she pull the t-shirt back on?

She slipped out and peeked around. He was sitting on the end of the bed, his head in his hands. She moved as quietly as possible and poked into the bag sitting on the bed.

"I got as close to what you had on as I could," he shrugged, not looking at her.

She said nothing as she pulled the yoga pants on and then the t-shirt. It was a soft t-shirt, but super thin. See through even. She hesitated and wondered if she could go and get his t-shirt to put on over it.

"Tacos are on the table," he told her, still looking at the ground.

"Thanks... I... I'm really not hungry. My stomach is... really really sensitive. I get sick easily. Not just motion sick, but I have a nervous stomach... I will throw up if I try to eat. Can I just have some more crackers and 7up?"

He stood, saying nothing as he left again. He came back in with the leftover crackers and pop, setting them on the table. She sat down in a chair, hugging herself as he dumped the bag of tacos out on the table. She pulled her feet up and hugged her knees, watching him as she nibbled on a cracker.

He seemed completely out of countenance. She knew she shouldn't have upset him, sent him over the edge, but her own temper made her reckless sometimes.

He didn't speak at all as he ate and she only sat there just as quiet. He stood after and threw away his trash, then paced for a while before going to his desk and pulling out a laptop. He opened it, then scowled at it. "Don't ever touch it again!" he yelled at her, still not looking at her.

She sighed. She had hoped he wouldn't notice that she had tried to get online to ask for help but couldn't get past his password.

She got up and went to the couch, curling up on it, facing his back to watch him. She couldn't see what he was doing, but whatever it was, it made him nervous. He looked at the table guiltily, then around at her in fear before jumping up and moving so that he was facing her and she couldn't see what he was watching. He looked confused and troubled as he watched, leaning close as if trying to see it better. He looked like he was getting more questions than answers, especially when he cocked his head as if trying to understand and see what was happening.

She wondered if he was watching porn. That was what she had gathered from his half of the conversation earlier. He wanted to know how to be with a woman when he wasn't raping them. She sort of wanted to burst his bubble and let him know that it would still be rape, no matter how he did it or what he did. The answer was going to be no.

Just thinking about it was making her upset and angry.

She made herself calm down. She couldn't get caught up in her anger and outrage, she had to focus on how she was going to get away. He wasn't stupid and he was very deadly and had a visious temper... but he was incredibly naive and completely clueless when it came to girls and how to handle them. She needed to use that to her advantage and stop losing her temper. Make him believe her in line and on board so he would begin trusting her.

She felt herself yawning for the tenth time and she sighed as she laid her head against the side of the couch.

"Don't sleep there," he commanded, scowling at her. "Get in bed."

She went tense, but said nothing as she got up and went to the bed, curling up under the blankets. He moved again so that he was facing her and she couldn't see the screen. He used his phone to turn off all the lights, then sat watching his laptop as she drifted off to sleep.

She jerked awake to noise in what felt like moments, thought she knew it wasn't. There was a single light across the room over the sink and he was making coffee. She sat up and looked around, but the other side of the bed wasn't mussed.

He had slept on the couch. That was something, at least. He was a gentleman in some way.

"I only have black," he said loudly, not looking at her.

"It's ok, I don't drink coffee," she answered softly. "No caffeine. It makes me jittery and sick to my stomach."

"Milk?"

"Usually, but not just now. Still feeling stressed. Just water," she answered, picking up a glass and getting herself some tap water. She made herself some toast as well, avoiding looking at him as he watched her.

"You talk in your sleep," he announced to the wall.

She glanced at him, wondering why he wouldn't look at her. She finger combed her hair and tried to wrangle her curls a bit. "Yeah," she shrugged.

"You cry like that every night?"

She shrugged. "Only when I am stressed or upset. Some days are worse than others."

"You are fragile. That's not a good way to be in the business your family is in."

"Well, I am not going into the family business. I am going to be an elementary school librarian."

"Readin' books to little kids?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah? I like kids."

"I don't."

"I do," she shrugged, sitting down with her toast.

"I don't want kids," he pressed, sitting at the table across from her with his coffee.

"With me?" she asked, sipping her water. "Probably a good thing since I can't have children."

"You can't? Why not?"

"I thought you didn't want kids?"

"I want to know what is wrong with you. Are you... a woman?"

"A woman? Like, was I born a girl? Are you really asking that? Yes, Cutter, I was born female. I am a woman. I am a woman who was in a bad accident when I was younger. It left me unable to bear children and unable to sleep most nights without nightmares or talking. Crying... yelling. I can't have my own kids, so I want to teach other people's."

"I don't like kids."

"Bet they just love you," she countered, wanting to try and break the ice a bit.

If he saw the humor in it, it didn't show. "So what's wrong? You have all your parts, they're just messed up?"

"I have my parts... I don't know what you want to know."

"Are you... hurt? Does it hurt if you..."

"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt anymore, none of it. Just the scars are left, inside and out."

He went quiet after that, scowling at his coffee. She ate her toast quietly as well, wondering how to go about making him trust her. What she should say or do.

No answers came to her before he got up and went back to the bathroom and showered.

He hovered a moment after he came back out and she knew he was wrestling over what he should say or do. Finally, he spoke. "I have work to do. Don't touch anything or get into anything or make a mess or... break something and get yourself hurt..."

"I thought you were taking the weekend off?" she asked curiously.

"What? You heard that?"

"Yes."

"Well... he asked me to come in and take care of some things and... I need to talk to him. So just... don't worry about it."

He left, flustered, and she watched him go. He seemed unreal. No one was really that clueless when it came to other people were they? Unless he truly was a sociopath. Not understanding people and feelings since he didn't have those feelings himself. It seemed so... off. Sociopaths didn't suddenly develop feelings one day, that's not how that worked, so what was his deal? At least she assumed that was how it worked. She took a single semester in psychology and had hardly paid attention, but she felt like she was right.

She had expected him to leave for a while and come back, but he must have been serious about being called in. He didn't come back until late evening. She jumped up from the couch, dropping the book she was reading as he strode in and looked her over.

"Are you hurt?" he asked warily.

"No?" she answered, confused. "I'm 22, Cutter. I know how to take care of myself and not get hurt or anything."

He scowled, then stepped closer and handed her another bag.

She pulled out another teddy bear, just like the other, but a lighter brown. "Thank you?"

He gave her a terse nod and stared at the couch. His eyes landed on the book she had been reading. "You read?"

"Yes? I do want to be a librarian, it's kind of a thing. You don't have many books I like, but I will take what I can get."

"That's history," he snapped, sounding appalled.

"Yes. It's a history book... I normally read fiction. History is a bit... dry and one sided."

"One sided?"

"Yes. It's written by the victor."

"History is fact!"

"Not really. You ask two people what happened, you get two different accounts. Three gets you three accounts. History, the US version of history, is watered down and painted in a light of..."

"No! That's some leftist bullshit! History is history and there's no changing it by wishing it or wanting it. You can't change things that happened by claiming they happened another way!"

"I'm not trying to change anything," she said mildly, trying to calm him down. "I am just saying that every version of history is as different as the person who wrote it. I have never been a big history person, never cared much for it. I am of the firm opinion it should be an elective and not required. PE should be required, it's actual health for crying out loud.Even if it's just walking on a track, it should be something. History is useless."

"Those who don't study history are doomed to repeat it!"

"Yes, I've heard that. I will try and refrain from signing another Magna Carta," she smiled, rolling her eyes.

He looked furious for a moment, then faltered as he looked at her. "Are you... are you teasing with me?" he asked uncertainly.

"A bit," she shrugged, still smiling gently.

"I don't get humor or jokes like that," he told her, his face red. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No. Just saying I don't take history as seriously as you do. It's not my thing. I was trying to be light about it since it seems like a big deal to you."

"It is a big deal. Everyone wants to forget what this country was really founded on! What we were really meant to be!"

Aislynn knew where this rant was about to go and she wanted to head it off before he began spouting hate and she lost her temper again. "Well, be that as it may, I usually like to read fiction. I have read a lot of history through school and I feel like I know enough to keep me out of danger. My leisure time, I prefer something lighter. Less serious."

He kept scowling, looking her over like he wanted to press the issue and make her understand the gravity of what he was trying to tell her.

She managed another smile as she held up the bear. "He's cute. I will put him with his brother." She went to the nightstand and put it with the other one and wondered if he really thought she wanted toys like that.

"I have more work to do," he told her as she turned, putting his phone away. "I will bring back food. What do you want?"

"Whatever is on your way home," she shrugged. "I like almost anything as long as it isn't super spicy."

He didn't respond as he hurried out, obviously focused on whatever had been on his phone.

She was actually asleep when he came back in, being very quiet. She opened her eyes from the bed and watched him as he crept to the kitchen and put food in the fridge before slipping silently into the bathroom to shower. He laid on the couch after, never making a sound and she wondered what he had been up to out so late. She fell back to sleep worrying about it.

In the morning, she woke first and tried to sneak to the bathroom without waking him, but he rolled off the couch and sat up, his knife in hand before she was even out of the bed.

"I... just need the ladies room," she whispered faintly as she froze, watching him.

He scowled and laid back down and she hurried to the bathroom.

When she came out, he was making coffee in nothing but a pair of jeans. She did take a moment to appreciate that for an older man, he had a pretty amazing body. She wasn't close enough to see all of the tattoos on his chest and back, but she had seen parts of the ones on his arms. She knew what they were, most of them. Still. He made a very nice picture standing there, towering over the counter with his muscular arms crossed over his sculpted chest.

She made herself focus on the task at hand and went across the room to him. She made toast quietly and she could feel his eyes on her as she moved.

"Do you have a pen and paper I could use?" She asked him, looking up at his dark brown eyes as he scowled down at her. "I need to make a shopping list for the grocery store. Your hours make it hard to do anything but eat at home and in reality, it makes more sense. I can't eat out very often, my stomach doesn't allow it. So I will just cook. I don't know what the nearest store is like, but I will look over their fresh produce and see what I..."