Wearing The Color Red

Chapter 7: Confab

"So, how did you get on?"

The sound of DR's spurs clicking on the back of his cow boy boots, echo's within the office as I watch DR push himself away from the closed door and begin the walk towards his black, glass desk.

It's been 5 days since meeting my client at the palace de crown to fulfil my working commitments. I internally shiver as the memories begin to occupy my brain,

Rough skin, sweat, unpleasant moans.

I reach out for the glass of water, waiting for me on the desk as I try to wash away the metallic taste in my mouth. I nod my head and force a timid smile on my face.

"It was fine, the customer seemed satisfied."

I watch as DR nods his head, a content smile displays on his face. Lowering himself into velvet, swivel chair opposite me I observe his choice of clothing for the day, A chunky, gold chain sits around his neck which is paired with a silk, red shirt. Chest hair peaks through the top of the shirt, reminding me of the wet hair ball I pulled from my bathroom drain the night before.

A large scar covers the right side of his face, starting from his eye and descending to his mouth, a jagged curve created by what I assume was a sharp weapon. His irritated skin creates a distorted appearance, which gives him the accurate allusion of him being threatening and wild.

DR lifts his legs onto the desk and crosses his foot over one another, he begins to stroke his beard while focusing on me.

"Sounds good, he called this morning to book you in for next Friday again. Seems you're his favourite."

A sigh escapes my mouth as my sight drops to my hands which are rested in my lap, my nails pierce at the skin as I clench my fists tightly. My teeth bite the inside of my lip, breaking the skin and causing a copper taste to invade my mouth.

The thought of performing that man's eerie fantasies once again, causes my body to shiver with repulse. I'm personally more of a get the deed done and leave sort of person but DR, without my knowledge, verbally agreed to allow the client to "fulfil his needs". I advert my gaze back to DR and adjust myself in my seat.

"I felt uncomfortable, with his requests..."

DR glares at me, his brown chocolate eyes suddenly turning black, a storm slowly brewing. Placing his elbows upon the desk he leans towards me.

"Well It is your job. You get payed to keep your legs open and your mouth shut."

Eyes widening, I jolt back in my seat at the harsh words, my body suddenly tense. I should be used to the way DR talks to me by now, but someone how, he can still make me feel defiled. DR leans backwards, reclining into his seat, he rubs his calloused hand against his forehead and sighs.

"Just get the job done and that's it. I don't want an unhappy customer or I won't pay you, got it?"

I nod my head slowly, the feeling of nauseous invades my body while I try to swallow down the feeling. Rubbing my hands across my jeans, I watch as DR retrieves a stack of 20 dollar notes from his draw and places it on top of the desk in front of me.

"Your cut."

I nod once again and begin to reach for the money. The crisp notes remind me of light at the end of a dark tunnel. The only happiness I can have, is knowing that this money was helping me to escape the agonising life that I currently live.

As my hand hovers over the notes, a harsh impact pushes my hand down onto the notes and the desk, a painful hiss escapes my mouth, I watch as DR harshly grips my hand. I look up to see a spine-chilling sneer forming on his face.

"Don't be a problem for me Rachel, and I won't be a problem for you."

Realising my wrist, I grasp the tender skin with my other hand and rub at the area, my hands begin to shake uncontrollably as I keep eye contact.

"I understand."

Feeling deflated and overwhelmed, I snatch the money of the desk and swiftly leave the office with hurried steps.