Through The Storm

37

He turns his focus back to the road clenching his fists a around the wheel, turning his knuckles a pale white. His jaw twitches and I can't help but giggle at it. Who is he to be mad at me in this situation? The car suddenly jolts as he swerves into an off the road dirt patch.
"Cade what the hell-" he gets out of the car coming to my side and opening my door.

"Out." He grits at me.

I climb out of the car and step back from him, I was up against the car door but as long as I was away from him I'd be fine. He steps towards me, fists balled up at his sides.
"The fuck did you say to me in the car?" His breath is heavy, I can feel his anger from here. Granted I was only a couple feet away from him.

"I called you a whore" I draw out the last word making sure to emphasize that I meant it. Before I can think, he wraps his hand around my throat. This isn't the enticing way he's done it before, this hurts. He holds me in place while gently pressing in on my airway.
"Cade- I. Cade please. It- hurts." I choke out. If there is any decency in this man he will stop.

"Where the fuck do you get off thinking you can call me names? Answer bitch!" He yells in my face. Who was this guy?

"I- I'm sorry. Cade please." Tears are stinging my eyes as I'm held captive in his hold.

"And giggling like a school girl? You think you're tough? Not anymore though right? Poor Estella. Helpless and worthless." He fake pouts at me. His words dug deep and cut worse than before.

Yet I feel some relief when he suddenly drops me to the ground. My butt falls flat against the dirt as I look up at him, fear is clouding my eyes I'm sure.
"Please just lets go. I'm sorry I'm so sorry." I plead with him again as the tears trickle down one by one.

He kneels in front of me taking my jaw in his hand and bringing my ear to his lips.
"I told you I could be fucking evil princess. Don't cross me. Slut." He seethes into my ear in a raspy voice that's going to haunt me. This mans mood swings will forever confuse me.

I simply nod at him before struggling to stand to my feet and climb back in the car. I close the door as lightly as I can being sure to not provoke him further. The mirror of my sun visor is out and I'm able to discreetly look at myself, seeing the red of his finger marks littering on my neck. That's going to bruise and it's not going to be pretty. Wonderful.

The drive is silent, no music and no talking. We arrive at a building, a hotel? No, a complex. Does he have a place here in Seattle?
"Where are we?" My voice was hoarse from the trauma to my windpipe. He had only choked me for a couple of minutes yet the feeling stuck with me through the entirety of the day.

"None of your business. This is your first task." He was being cold, I'm sure I deserved it for talking to him how I did.

"What do I need to do?"

"Go inside, ask for Clark. Go to his room and service him." What?

"No Cade I can't. I don't- I'm not capable of that." I could feel the burning sensation in my eyes at the thought of having to do this.

"Jesus Stella. I'm not fucking pimping you out. You're just grabbing a suitcase and getting back out." Oh.

"How is that servicing someone?" Service meant doing something for someone else, how would this help the man?