The Brute Read Free

him, until I heard the guttural moan and felt his warm sticky seed coat my throat. Wiping my lips I returned to the table, just as my meal arrived.
    I couldn’t eat anything. Not after that.
    Even after the meal was over, he’d paid, and we’d left, I still couldn’t tell him what an asshole he was. I was numb.
    He chatted with me in the car like we were any other couple. Sharing jokes with me about his day at work. I didn’t answer, preferring to stare out of the passenger side window.
    “Come on, don’t be like that. It was fun, wasn’t it?” he asked.
    “Fun? How was that fun for me?”
    “We did it in public, in a goddamn fucking restaurant. Shit. It was hot. Worth every cent.”
    I wanted to leave him, punch him, make him feel degraded like I’d just felt. But my voice was strangled, the words wouldn’t come.
    He pulled up at the end of my street, and I opened the door, grabbing my purse.
    “See you again soon, beautiful,” he said. “You are amazing.”

6
     
    He’d often drop me at the end of my street instead of outside my building. That way he could drive on home without having to do a u-turn. Whatever made it easier for him. Sigh.
    Even though it was late, the night hadn’t got a chill to it yet, and was pleasant enough, so I didn’t mind the short walk. It would help clear my mind, decide what to do.
    I stepped carefully, making sure my high heels didn’t click on the pavement too loudly and draw any unnecessary attention to myself. It was obvious that if I told him to go jump, he’d cut off my rent and allowance. Which meant I needed to get a job, fast, if I wanted to stay in Charlotte. I’d never considered a non-accounting job before, but if I had to flip burgers to get away from him, I’d decided that was what I was going to do.
    A man stood outside my building. I couldn’t tell yet if he was going to be a problem. I lightened my step even more, almost tiptoe quiet. His head was down, a hood pulled up over his face so all I could see was a shadow where his face should be. He leaned back against the concrete fence, his legs crossed casually over his ankles.
    I reached into my bag and pulled out my house keys, putting them between my fingers, making sure that the sharp ends pointed out, just in case.
    As I stepped closer he looked up. “Angel?”
    My breath caught in my throat, and I nearly dropped my keys on the ground.
    “James? What are you doing here?”
    James Trent was from my home town of Claremont. We’d been friends since we went to primary school together, but I hadn’t seen him in, goodness, it must be at least four years.
    He grinned at me, the tiny scar on his chin (the one he would never tell me how he got, although he’d had it for as long as I’ve known him), caught the light. It was really him. Here, in Charlotte.
    “How long have you been standing here?”
    He shrugged, the grin still on his face. “‘Bout three hours.” His wavy brown hair had been cut short. It suited him short.
    “Why didn’t you call me, and tell me you were here. I would have come home, straight away.”
    “It’s cool. I don’t mind waiting.”
    “Where are you staying?” I asked.
    He smiled at me, cocking his head to one side. “I thought I could stay here. I’m only going to be in town for a few days. And your folks said it’d be okay. It is okay, isn’t it? Ang, if it’s not, just let me know. Man, I just figured you’d be cool with it.”
    I looked up at my building. James was a good friend. You don’t kick your friends out on the street. Especially not in the middle of the night, in a place like Charlotte. But this was not good timing.
    “Of course,” I said. “I was just surprised to see you. Stay tonight. That’s fine. We’ll figure something out in the morning.”
    I let him up to my apartment, looking around, thanking myself for having cleaned up earlier. I made up the sofa, and got a spare pillow and blanket from the cupboard.
    “You’re looking really good,