Insecure

My heart was pulsating so loudly I swore he could hear it, and I wasn't sure if it was because I was angry, worried, or nervous-- hell, maybe it was all three.

But I watched as he lifted his shirt over his head-- my throat went dry and I coughed, looking away. His abdomen was badly bruised and his lip was cut.

"Do you ever wonder if there's a better way?" I ask, my voice so small I wonder if he can actually hear it. He turns around, his blue eyes seemingly darker.

"Better way than what?" His brow is furrowed but I know he understands the context of my question.

"You know, a better way than letting people beat on you for money." I play with my hands, so I don't feel the need to look him in the eyes.

"It's easy money Ophie. I like things that come easy."

"Yeah, I've noticed."