Deal
> > Angela was roused to the feel of something sharp jabbing her in the ribs. Was Ricky horsing around? Her head felt like it was stuffed with wet wool; she just wanted to sleep. It took several seconds to get her hand to respond, feebly jerking at the stick to push it away.
"Oh shit, she moved!"
"I told you."
That didn't sound like Ricky...
She felt a warm, gritty hand touch her ankle.
That didn't feel like Ricky...
Angela gradually became aware of herself. She'd fallen asleep on her stomach, apparently; her head was twisted uncomfortably to one side. She felt something scratchy on her cheek.
She heard wheezy breathing in front of her.
And smelled something powerfully putrid.
That definitely didn't *smell* like Ricky!
Angela opened her eyes to find a grizzled dirty man staring at her.
"Aaaiiii!" she screamed, scrambling backwards away from him until she felt something rough and hard and bony in her backside. She kicked spastically to make the man keep his distance, not that such action was necessarily; he'd been so spooked at her sudden awakening that he'd fallen back on his ass and slid several yards down a leaf-covered embankment.
Sapphire quickly took in her surroundings. Dirt. Uncut grass. Leaves. Shadows. Tree branches. Tree trunk behind her. An open field of mostly-cut crabgrass, ringed by oak trees. Above and behind them, tall buildings.
And directly where she'd been laying a moment ago, a large muddy skidmark ending in a shallow groove surrounded by a ring of pushed earth.
Now she remembered. She'd crashed last night -- hard.
Her sapphires!
She checked herself. Somehow, everything was still intact, more or less -- she found her tiara laying in the leaves just beyond where she'd collapsed. She quickly put it on, hoping to feel that familiar rush. It was there, but just barely. It would not be enough to get home, maybe not even enough to get out of the park.
She stood, unsteadily. Her mud-blackened skirt was ripped to the waist, and the seam looked ready to give out at any moment. Her sheer top was shredded clean off one shoulder and ripped almost all the way down that side; both front and back hung pathetically from the other shoulder, only covering the outer half of one breast.
A rumbling voice from down the slope startled her and her visitor. "Beat it!"
The grungy man near her suddenly straightened up, looked over his shoulder, and started backing away. Behind him another man approached. Larger. Grittier. Scarier.
He loomed over her like a grizzly.
"You fell."
Well, yeah.
"You all right?"
"Fine." He was looking at her funny. Not possessive, like most dangerous men she'd met.
Wishful.
She knew she couldn't fly. The way the sapphires licked at her feebly, she wasn't sure she could walk. They were always distracting at the worst possible time.
Could he tell?
Did she have enough power to fight him off if he got any ideas?
Fight off every man from here to her apartment? No. Not dressed the way she was.
Rather, undressed.
The sun was starting to rise above the treeline. She'd be lucky to get across the park before she got arrested. She needed something to cover herself up.
But where was she going to find something to wear in the park?
The grizzly-man still stood in front of her. His eyes playing over her face. Watching her think.
What was he thinking?
"You need clothes," he grunted.
"Yes."
"And two dollars."
Huh?
"For the bus. You can't walk."
Okay... "Can you help me?"
"Yes."
He stood there, unmoving. Waiting. For?
"Do you have something I could wear?"
"You could wear my coat."
Hanging just halfway down the big brute's thighs, it would probably reach her ankles. But choosing between swimming in a homeless man's coat or running across the city naked, she'd gladly swim.
But he made no move to take it off. He just looked at her.
"I'll bring it back. Later today. I promise." She really would.
But that wasn't it.
He wanted something.
What?
What all men want.
Those eyes didn't seem to blink. The face was expressionless. "You'll still need two dollars."
The phrase 'two-dollar whore' ran through her head. She shivered.
He seemed to recognize her reaction. "I won't hurt you."
She felt dizzy. She knew her hands were shaking. God, why did this have to happen?
"I just want to touch them. They're very nice."
She crossed her arms over her chest.
"No one else will help you."
Was that a threat? No. There was nothing meanacing about his tone of voice or his movement -- well, lack of movement -- just his physical size.
Something inside her wondered what he'd look like out of all those layers of clothing. This made her cover herself even more tightly.
"Don't be ashamed. You're pretty. I hate when pretty hides."
She looked around. As if some other option might present itself. She knew it wouldn't.
"But you need to hide. To get home. You need my coat. And two dollars." His meaty paw yanked a pair of crumpled bills out of the coat pocket, flashed them in front of her, and demonstratively stuffed them back in the coat.
"They've been touched before. You know it won't hurt. My hands are clean." He held his arms straight out in front of him, palms toward her, like a small child awaiting his mother's handwashing inspection. She got the impression that hands were only cleaned for very special occasions.
He'd been thinking about this. Planning this. Watching her. Calculating what she would need and what he could get for it. Why hadn't he simply touched her while she'd been out cold? Hadn't he? Why hadn't he tried to do a lot more?
"I didn't touch you. Not legal." Said as if it was about him staying out of trouble, rather than out of any basic human decency. "You have to say it's okay." And yet, there was a Gentle Giant quality beneath the scary gruffness. Or maybe she was only imagining that because the alternative was too terrible to consider.
She really had no choice.
And it could be worse.
He could make it worse.
He still might.
Best not to anger him.
Just get through it. Just get home.
"Okay."
She expected him to pounce on her, send her crashing to the ground, pinning her, ripping her flimsy garments from her, using her in vile unspeakable ways...
He didn't move. He just blinked.
"I won't hurt you."
She relaxed. Well, she stopped cringing.
He stepped toward her. He was a giant. She had to steel herself to keep from running.
Just get through this.
He squatted down. To get a better look, presumably. She looked down. She expected that hungry, lustful look that made her skin crawl. Instead, he looked... fascinated. As if he were a botanist studying a new plant.
She closed her eyes when he finally touched her. His hands were big and coarse. She tried to imagine someone else. Too big to be Ricky. Too gentle to be Josh. The naive girl didn't really have anyone else. Maybe Scott. Well, his real name was Eric. No. It didn't really matter. This was humiliating. And thanks to the sapphires, arousing.
God, not now. Just let him hurry up and...
She felt something warm and soft and wet enricle her nipple; an electric shock zapped her whole body.
Nnggh.
He was suckling.
Hands and mouth switched sides. It was getting intense. She was having trouble standing. She felt an arm wrap around her waist, holding her up. His thighs brushed the outside of her calves as he pulled her a little closer. To hold her up better. Or to do something else. Through her sapphire-induced haze she was dimly aware of fabric brushing up against her knee, back and forth...
He suddenly stiffened up, momentarily drawing her tight against him and biting her roughly. She quickly pushed him away, staggering back a few steps.
She felt something hot and slimy on her thigh.
"Okay, I think you've had enough," she said breathlessly. She wasn't about to admit it, but his ministrations had gotten her a bit warmed up; she needed to stop before *she* lost control. Okay, more than a bit; she'd come close. She told herself it was the waning energy of the sapphires, which glimmered almost imperceptibly in the shadows.
"Sorry," he said gruffly as he stood. "You okay?" Did he know how close she'd been? How close he'd brought her to...
"Fine."
He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and absent-mindedly brushed at his crotch with his other hand. Sapphire noticed the new spot of dark wetness was not the only stain. She found herself both repulsed and sorry for this poor soul.
But for right now, she was in desperate straits of her own. "We had a deal," she said, cringing at the prospect of putting on a piece of clothing that this bum had been living in for who knows how long, but knowing it was better than the alternative.
"Yeah." There was resignation in his voice, both sad and glad that the moment was past. He shucked his coat in a move that struck her as absurdly debonair, letting it slide down one arm to catch it and twirl it by the collar until he held it open in both hands, gesturing for her to step into it. She did, slipping her hands into the huge sleeves, feeling it settle onto her shoulders, finding the smell mostly tolerable and the warmth comforting.
"Thank you," she said, turning around and wrapping the great coat closed around her.
So it was goodbye, then.
"I kept the others away while you slept."
The comment made her pause. Why did he wait until now to say that?
"Mostly people should share what they got. Good for everybody. But some stuff you gotta hold back for yourself."
Was he talking about... why he'd held watch over her? About what they'd just done?
Or was he giving her profound advice?
"My name is Harold."
"Thank you Harold," Sapphire said graciously. "I'm..." what did she tell him?
"I know you. Heard about you."
He knew her? Knew she was Sapphire. Knew what she could do? Then why did he...?
"Saw you fall." Knew she was weak. Knew her weakness?
"I won't tell."
She wouldn't either. Still, as humiliating as this was, it could have been much worse. It occurred to her that she'd been out here for hours. Had he watched over her the whole time? Protecting her. For her, or for him?
"If you knew... why didn't you... I mean, why did you..."
"Sorry. Had to. Before I forgot."
Before he forgot what? Before he forgot about her? Did he have memory problems? The way he talked -- nevermind the way he looked! -- didn't seem normal. Was that just because of his circumstances, or was he mentally ill? Or just 'slow'? She looked at him a long time. He was so hard to read. One moment she saw a simpleton, the next a crazy man... but every once in a while she seemed to catch a glimpse of something else. Something more. A brightness made weary.
As if 'before I forgot' meant before he forgot what it was like to be with a woman. Before he forgot that people shared their bodies to find their hearts.
But then he did something like stare at her chest dumbly or scratch himself and the glimmer of human depth seemed imagined.
"Well, it wasn't very nice. You shouldn't take advantage of people like that. What goes around comes around," she said in a lecturing tone.
"Already came around," he said, betraying that glimmer again. "Couple o' times."
She suddenly felt like a heel. Lecturing a man like this about karma.
She didn't know why, but she smiled.
So did he. She realized it was the first time he'd showed any real emotion. But then it was gone, and she wondered if maybe she hadn't imagined it.
"Go home," he said, his voice again gruff. Like he was putting on a show for anyone that might be watching. Friends? Did he have any? Would he think she was a friend now? Would she?
She felt herself shivering. Not from cold -- the morning sun was pushing the coolness of October out of the park. It was going to be another nice day. Or at least it might be, if she could get home and take her Xanax without having an episode. The last thing she needed now was to freak out in public wearing nothing but a dirty trenchcoat and heels. At that, she pulled the tiara out of her hair, gingerly untangling it and stuffing it in a coat pocket. The sapphires were too far gone to do her any good anyway. And even worse than getting picked up as a homeless lunatic would be getting picked up as Sapphire.
She turned back to look at him. He was sitting down, back among the trees so as not to be seen. Watching her.