Debt

2: Patience

When Shawn got downstairs, Abrielle was in the exact same place and position she had been the night before. He shook his head. Her ass had to hurt.

He could tell she hadn't slept by her baggy eyes, red and puffy from all the crying. She needed to stop. It was doing her no good to keep crying.

"You can see your pops this week. But before that, we going to sign a marriage contract."

"Why do you want to marry me?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"You'll serve a purpose, sugar. Don't worry about it."

She sat there numbly, not moving a muscle. Shawn went to the bathroom and got cleaned up, coming out of the room in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Go take a shower. Brush your teeth. That's an order," he told her, giving her a brand new panty and bra set with a pair of jeans and a v-neck.

She stared at him blankly, and he raised a brow. "Do you need help getting into the shower, or is you gon do what I told you?"

Frowning, Abrielle moved to the bathroom, dragging her feet. She entered the windowless room and flicked on the bright light, revealing a shower stall and his and hers sinks.

On the side obviously belonging to her, there was a toothbrush, a tube of Crest toothpaste, a bottle of Crest mouthwash, a comb, a brush, scrunchies, a bottle of lotion, and a bottle of body wash lying atop a neatly folded towel and wash rag.

She locked the door and began to slowly undress, nervous, afraid, and anxious. She listened out, and she couldn't hear a single sound.

Hoping Shawn had left the loft, she stepped into the shower, feeling its soothing effect on her aching muscles as it pulsed against her flesh.

More tears came down her face as she feared the unknown. Who knew what that man had planned for her?

She threw water on her face, trying to collect herself. She was going to get some answers today. She was determined that she would.

Abrielle took her precious time in the shower after washing her skin, just enjoying the feel of the water on her flesh. But of course, she did have to get out. She lotioned her body at a snail's pace, putting lotion on every inch of her body.

She spent two hours in the bathroom before she left it and saw Shawn watching television. He looked to have been there the entire time as he ate pizza.

"Eat," he ordered, not even sparing her a bored glance.

She looked at the slice of meat lover's pizza and the cup of Sprite as if they were foreign to her. Bri loved eating. But she didn't have an appetite.

Instead of taking the food, she went and sat down.

"Please don't make me force feed you, Abrielle. I'm trying to be nice to you. Do you think I'd be this nice if I wanted to harm you? Eat."

Afraid that he might really hold her down to feed her, she got up and ate slowly. He watched her nibbling at the food and took a deep breath. She was going to present a challenge to his patience.

When she had eaten half the slice of pizza— he noticed she hadn't touched the Sprite, probably worried he'd drug her— he gave her a chance to follow him of her own free will, untied. But then she tried to run away, and that forced him to hold her wrist with just enough pressure that if she pulled away, it would hurt her. 

"Don't make me act ugly, baby. Please do not make me have to tie you up. You don't want me pissed off, Abrielle. Spare yourself the trauma and behave like a good girl."