SAVAGE 4

1.

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The room was quiet, which seemed to make the eighteen-year-old girl comfortable. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was wrapped in a blanket while laying in the full-size bed.

Suddenly, the door opened, and that grabbed her attention. She looked up and realized it was her boyfriend. He wore a subtle expression on his face as he carried a plate of food. It was nestled inside a bag.

"Hi." She pushed up with the help of her arms. "Did you bring us some food back?"

Quietness took over the whole room. She watched him cautiously. He dropped the bag on the dresser and looked over at her.

"What the fuck you've been doing all day?"

Jersey held a confused facial expression as she tried to find the right words. She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and blinked a few times.

"What? I've been in here...waiting on you to get back."

"Yeah, right." He countered lowly while removing his jacket.

"I have," Jersey responded with a hint of a whine. "I've been in here all day...waiting on you."

The woman was telling the truth. She didn't bother to leave the house because she didn't want to hear her boyfriend's mouth. He didn't want her walking around freely.

The man glanced at the dollar store bag and asked, "Where did that bag come from?"

Quickly, she darted her eyes over toward the bag. It was slightly ripped from being pulled harshly by the cashier. Jersey blinked a few times and shook her head lightly.

"That bag is from last night. We went to the bodega, remember?"

There was silence.

"Remember?"

"Nah. I don't remember shit."

"Quintin..." She called out with her head leaned to the side.

Quintin showed no emotion. He just grabbed the Styrofoam plate out of the bag and proceeded to open it. The man unwrapped his fork and dug right into the meal. It smelled delicious, and Jersey couldn't help but predict what was on the plate.

"Where is my plate?"

The man wasn't interested in answering her question. He picked up the fried chicken wing and took a big bite.

"So, you didn't go anywhere?"

"No, I didn't." She whined. "I've been here all day. I mean, of course, I went out to use the bathroom, shower, and get a snack. But that was it." Jersey watched as he chewed away.

For some reason, Quintin grew upset with her response. He hauled off and launched the piece of chicken at her. Jersey ducked, but the chicken ended up hitting her in the chest. She tossed him a baffled expression.

"I told you not to leave this fucking room-at all!" He raised his voice, and that changed the whole atmosphere. Jersey removed the chicken from her clothing and noticed it left a greasy residue on her shirt.

Quintin was insecure. This wasn't new. The man swore something was happening between Jersey and his brother-in-law, Mike. The man was married to Quintin's sister.

Mike was older than Quintin. Approximately five years older than him. He had a stable job, and he took care of the house. The man was generous enough to allow Quintin and Jersey to stay in their home.

Unfortunately, Quintin didn't see it as him being generous. He was green, and that was obvious. The man didn't like how Mike treated Jersey. He conversed with her and what burned Quintin up was how Jersey would respond-she was always bubbly. And there were the respectful gestures-such as Mike opening the door for her or wanting to do things for her.