Traffic

Part 8

-THOMAS'S POINT OF VIEW-

"Where's the girl, James?"

He looked agitated, annoyed, defeated. "She's back in the room with the others."

Now I was the one agitated and annoyed. James watched me as I walked over grabbing his shirt and pushing him to the wall behind him. "I gave you one fucking thing to do." Anger welled up in my voice and rage in my fist as they remained clinched and only got tighter with each second I had to look at his worthless face. "I told you to bring her here to me."

As I yelled, he began to laugh. "You know, just because your asshole of a father is the big man on campus doesn't mean you control me, too." his hands pushed himself off the wall. "Oh and by the way, that Kelsey girl you called for, she's pretty good with her mouth."

"Get the hell out of here."

-KELSEY'S POINT OF VIEW-

The Russian beggar was now laying on the ground barley alive and only needing an ounce of food to survive a little while longer. Here, all she can do is perish. Women looked at me with my clean fresh smelling skin full of jealousy and complete hatred. Crossing my mind is what those women 'will have to go through to get something as simple as a hot shower and possibly an ounce of food.

"Kelsey?" My own thoughts blocked the sound of the door opening when I heard my name, I turned to see Thomas standing in the door way watching me.

"I already got my shower."

"Just come with me."

I couldn't help but look at all the women around me and try to remember each and every one of their faces. Every wrinkle. Every scar. Every little detail. Standing and fixing my shirt and jacket I climbed my way through the people over to him as he closed and locked the door. The entire hallway was pitch black except for the shadows that exposed Thomas's face with a crossing pattern from the caged window. His arm brushed against mine and for what I expected to be stone cold it was very warm, almost inviting.

"Where's Meg?" I demanded instantly when he turned this way.

"She's fine. Probably almost out of here." He said coldly as if it wasn't exactly what it sounded like. I knew it could't be that easy. "She was an easy grand made."

"You belong in a sewer."

"And you don't belong here, but yet here you are." The blank expression on my face made him laugh. "We can talk more in my office."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

I could tell Thomas's patience was growing thinner and thinner. I just had to push him to the edge.

"Don't make me have to force you. I'm not the bad guy."

Oh, man! Was that the joke of the century! A Small laugh left the corner of my mouth as I tried to constrain it to no prevail. Thomas's face went stern as it slowly died down into nothing, and the hallway fell silent. "Then let me go."

"I can't."

"And why not? You are the boss here."

His head pivoted in both directions looking for other people and then took hold of my wrist dragging me with him. As we walked, I took a moment to notice everything about the facility. High ceilings with metal bars spread across them to help support and the walls had water from the steam of the showers easily drip off. Solid concrete. At least two feet thick. No screams would possibly be heard. He opened an oversized metal door and dragged me inside whipping my wrist to throw me in without a struggle.

"My dad is the one in charge. You've seen him."

I nod quickly agreeing while he walks over and sits on the desk not worried about my actions. He even left the window open. He trust me. "Why me? I'm not a prostitute."

"You said it yourself. Your dad is far away and from the looks of things, doesn't care. Your mom doesn't seem to be in the picture much--"

"Shes dead."

He swallowed hard after I mentioned it. Since I didn't know her, there were no harsh pains. My dad always makes me visit her grave on her birthday. Usually he's on his knees crying at the loss while I stand in the back not wanting to get in the way. That was the only time I saw my dad cry. He always hated me. Since I was the one who killed his wife.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." And I meant it. Thomas's blue eyes softened still more into a baby blue instead of their usual sharp silver tone. "It probably wouldn't change the outcome."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You would still be a bartender?"

'I still would have run away from home. Started my own life. Make my own living. I just always thought it may be a little more successful." A smile cracked to my face as I thought a little more. "I wouldn't be here."

Thomas stood from the desk and slowly took small steps in my direction, but I barley noticed with how subtle they are. Almost like a moon walk the way his feet slithered over the floor without making a sound. "Then where would you be?"

"College. In a dorm though, not my crappy little loft if you can even call it that. I would probably have friends. Or at least someone who would care if I disappeared." I could go on. I had always imagines my life to be open to so many things and a beautiful thing instead of the mess it actually is. 

When I refocused, Thomas stood inches away and my breathing couldn't help but increase. His wavering breath gently blowing against my skin as his lips grew closer and closer until They finally brushed against mine. 

"Fuck you." I whispered finally realizing what was happening before stepping around him to the opposite side of the room. "Is this how you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Instead of pushing yourself on the girl you let them just lean into it. You let them want to kiss you. Is that so it's technically not rape?" I spurted out as he looked at me with the complete opposite expression that I expected. It wasn't stern or worried like I had figured out his master plan, but rather depressed and gentle like he didn't mean for it to come off that way. "Why did you bring me in here? There are tons of other people, but you chose me."

"I-I..." he stopped so he knew exactly what he was going to say. But he didn't say anything. His hands were thrown up to my jaw holding my face still as his lips planted perfectly on mine. My hands went up to his chest trying to force him back, but in no way was I strong enough. To my last option, I lifted my knee up to his crotch as he pulled back and bent over in pain, biting my lip as he toppled back. My hand ran up to catch the blood that was falling, and it didn't take long for my lip to begin to swell. "I'm sorry, Kelsey."

I couldn't even put my anger into words as I started to walk out the door.