Surrender

by Kitty Thomas

  Gabe scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Julie, I'm sorry. That was far too much. I knew you weren't ready for that and I would never..." He paced across her floor in brooding silence for several minutes. Finally he said, "I knew better than to ask you out."

  "What?" She sounded hurt and when he looked up, she was crying.

  He moved back to her, and she shrank away. He'd never regain her trust. He brushed the hair out of her eyes with his fingers, but she flinched at what was intended as a soothing gesture. "I didn't mean it like that. This isn't your fault."

  "I'm sorry. I need to go slower than this. I-I really, really like you."

  He sighed. "I really like you too."

  "Then, will I see you again?"

  He couldn't believe she wanted to see him again after this. She was scared, probably a bit embarrassed, and yet...

  "No. This was a mistake. I won't be back at the bar. I'm sorry but this has to be goodbye, Julie."

  She began to cry harder, and everything inside his soul clenched in pain at that look on her face. She looked like she thought he was punishing her. Why couldn't she understand he was sparing her? Sparing her... him. He was so tempted to lay it all out on the table—all the gory details of what excited him, what he demanded in a relationship. Then she'd run from him all on her own. But this was enough. He couldn't handle revulsion from her on top of everything else.

  It was bad enough the universe had teased him with the possibility of this girl he could never have because to take her would be to break her and pull her into what, for her, would be a dark and twisted world.

  Gabe touched the side of her face gently and smoothed away her tears, then he put his hand under her chin and raised her gaze to his. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you. It wasn't my intention. We aren't a good fit. Trust me, it's better this way. I'm a very bad man that you don't need to know."

  He turned and went to the door, steeling himself against her tears.

  "Wait. Please, Gabe. I do want to know you. Please, I'm inexperienced. I just need... I need time. Don't leave like this."

  There wasn't one in fifty women who would respond this way. Most would throw things at him or yell obscenities. But this girl? Every cell in her body demanded sweet submission. He was sure she wasn't a doormat. He'd seen her yell at the drunk in the bar. But as far as she was concerned, fuck her dignity, she just wanted to please him. Most women would have gotten angry, and the few who cried like this wouldn't have thrown their dignity at his feet to be trampled further.

  For the smallest glittering moment, Gabe considered taking her with him. He knew enough of her story to know that while someone might file a half-hearted missing person's report, nobody would be scorching the earth to find her. He could take her to the house. Keep her with him always. She'd come around to his ways. There was too much of the submissive inside her not to.

  But what he'd almost said earlier was that he would never force her, and that was true. He might be a sick bastard who made endless moral justifications for his crimes, but he knew a woman who wanted what he had to offer from one who didn't. And he couldn't lie to himself about the kind of woman Julie was... and wasn't. He cared about her too much.

  "Julie, I'm sorry. I won't bother you again."

  Chapter Two

  Julie wiped down the counter at Dani's in a daze. It had been two and a half weeks since she'd seen Gabe on their one and only disaster of a date. She kept hoping like a fool that he'd walk through that door, but he never did. She was never going to see him again.

  It had taken nearly a week for the bite marks he'd left on her to fade. Some fucked-up part of her held onto them, like it was the last piece of him, and once it was gone... he was gone. But that was crazy. He'd practically attacked her like a wild animal. If that was how he behaved on the first date... and to beg him like that... after the way he'd treated her...

  She wiped her face with the back of her hand. She couldn't start crying at work again. Danika had sent her home twice last week. It was humiliating. She didn't want people seeing her like this, but it wasn't as if she could take a leave of absence from bartending. Who did that?

  And it wasn't as if Gabe had done anything wrong really. He'd stopped when she finally pushed around the shock of what was happening and found her voice. Maybe he should have stopped before then. Maybe, knowing what he knew about her lack of history with men, he should have asked her direct questions about what she wanted like a civilized human. He'd seen her backing away. Surely he hadn't thought that was some kind of foreplay.

  But the important thing was... he'd stopped. He'd been so intense. It scared her a little. Maybe she'd watched one too many woman-in-peril movies. It had seemed for the briefest moment that he would take no matter what she wanted or didn't want to give. She'd just gotten scared. Sure, she'd known him for a while, but she knew him like any employee knows a regular at a business—in the most casual way, possible. She shouldn't have invited him in to begin with, no matter how much she liked him. If things had gone badly, no matter whose fault it truly was, she would have blamed herself for asking him in.

  But when he'd immediately backed off with that look of horror in his eyes, she knew he didn't plan to hurt her. Then she'd been mortified. She was sure that if it had been Danika in that situation she would have told Gabe to fuck off and get the hell away from her. But Julie had practically begged him not to leave. How pathetic. How fucking pathetic. He must be so glad to get away from someone so clingy.

  It wasn't like she hadn't heard guys talk. In college she'd overheard a few guys talking about how it was all fun and games with a virgin until she got all clingy. Julie was sure that was how Gabe saw her—someone so inexperienced she'd latch onto the first man who seemed to know his way around a woman's body—or clinging as if she absolutely must make sure the man she gave her virtue to was the only man who would ever have her.

  That last idea felt a little too true. It was the goddamn religious upbringing that had rooted around inside her head. Maybe she had been saving herself for marriage. It wasn't a conscious plan, but it was pretty weird she couldn't seem to find the time to get into a relationship with anyone. And maybe she was old-fashioned. So many men wanted sex on the first date now, and she couldn't imagine doing that. It was too intimate and personal. Like, Hi, I just met you three minutes ago, let me stick the most personal part of my body inside the most personal part of your body. All the cool kids are doing it. STD's, pregnancy, and emotional vulnerability? What are those? Don't be a buzzkill!

  God, if she ended up married to a preacher, and trapped right back in that spiral of nonsense—oh how her parents would gloat like she was the little lost lamb being dragged back into the fold.

  As much as she watched the door, hoping Gabe would walk through it, an equal part of her was almost relieved he'd kept his word and kept his distance. Maybe she could find a way to salvage her pride after all. Nobody but Danika knew the gory details.

  Speaking of... her boss emerged from the back then. "Julie, I swear to God, if you start crying again, I'm going to—as my mother would say—give you something to cry about."

  It drew a laugh out of her.

  "That's better," Danika said. "Look, I know you really liked Gabe. It would be hard for any sane heterosexual woman not to be attracted to him. He was hot, no doubt. And he had charisma."

  "I hope there's a 'but' in all this because right now you're making it worse."

  "The 'but' is... he's too aggressive. Especially for a first date. The way he manhandled you? Seriously, Julie, I've been around a bit. I know guys like this. He might have taken no once or twice, but in the end guys like that are bad news. It starts out very romantic, but they turn dark on you fast. And you end up trapped somehow, where you can't get away from them even though you once thought you were strong enough to walk away."

  Danika was talking about her ex. Joe was serving time in maximum security for killing a guy that had done little more than look at Danika wrong. On the outside, to some wo
men, that might look romantic and protective, but how protective could it be when he was beating her at home? Right now he had a life sentence, but there was a possibility of parole. Danika lived with that possibility hanging over her head all the time. Because she knew if he ever got out, he was coming back for her, and there was no restraining order that would help her then.

  But even if Danika was talking about Joe and not Gabe, Gabe had said himself that he was a bad man she didn't need to know. A kind of danger had radiated off him that made Julie think he could be another Joe.

  She didn't need that. He was doing her a kindness staying away. But she couldn't get him out of her head—or the romantic fantasy version of what things could have been like if she hadn't freaked out.

  "Speaking of dangerous assholes," Danika said, "Watch out for this one." She pointed to a guy with dark hair, dark navy jeans, and a leather jacket oozing into the bar. Yes, he oozed in. Walking would be far too pedestrian a description of the act. He had a tattoo of a snake on the side of his neck—like he'd just been stamped fresh with evil.

  The phone in the back rang and Danika excused herself to answer it.

  "Vodka," the man said when she'd gone.

  With that one word, Julie could tell from the thick accent that he was Russian. She poured the drink and put it on the bar in front of him.

  "What's your name, beautiful?" he asked, his accent lilting and curving delicately around beautiful.

  She hesitated. Usually she told people her first name, but this guy... Danika was right about him. This guy looked like he'd just gotten out of prison. Before she could decide a delicate way to not give him her name or make up a fake one, Hank shouted from the other end of the bar.

  "Hey, Julie! I need another beer."

  "You need a fucking liver transplant, Hank!" she shouted back.

  The Russian laughed. "Feisty. I like that. I am Aleksei, Julie."

  "I'm sorry, excuse me," she said. Julie took the opportunity to move to the other end of the bar and take care of Hank's refill, wishing he ordered something more complicated than beer. She lingered at the other end of the bar, wiping it down, straightening some bottles until finally Aleksei called her back over.

  "Julie! Another."

  She came back and poured him another vodka.

  "You look sad," he said. "Very sad. Did some bad man break your heart? I could kill him for you." When Julie gave him what she was sure was a horrified look, he held his hands up in mock surrender. "Only joking, of course. I kid. I'm a joker. But seriously, I could make you... not sad anymore. We will go on date. I will take you to nice restaurant and you will be happy again."

  Yeah, asshole, you can magic my life into wonderfulness. If only we'd had you here sooner.

  "Excuse me." Julie went to the back where Danika was just getting off the phone.

  "Problem?" she asked.

  "That guy that just came in. He's giving me the creeps. He's hitting on me pretty hard and doesn't seem to read disinterest. And really, I don't think he cares."

  "I'll get rid of him," Danika said.

  "Are you sure? I mean technically it's not like he's done anything wrong. Dealing with drunk come-ons is one of the job hazards."

  "He's not drunk. He just got here. He's trouble. He's out. You stay back here until he's gone."

  Julie sat behind Danika's desk in the office, swiveling back and forth on the creaking olive leather chair. There was some shouting—a good deal of it coming from Danika. There was the expected resistance and Aleksei's certainty that she couldn't do shit to make him leave. Then the sound of several chairs scraping out as all the regulars got up and escorted him from the building.

  There was another attempt to come back in, and yelling, a threat of the cops from Julie's boss, then he left for good. A few minutes later Danika returned to the office. "It's clear, you can go back to the bar."

  "Thanks."

  "Yep."

  "Julie, you all right?" one of the regulars asked when she came back out.

  "Yeah, a little shaken. I should be used to guys like that by now."

  He shook his head. "You shouldn't have to get used to guys like that."

  The rest of her shift was uneventful, which gave Julie plenty of time to brood over Gabe. But when she wasn't brooding, she was seriously reconsidering her employment. She'd never planned to work at the bar this long. It was only meant as a stop gap until she found something better. She'd stayed as long as she had because tips were good and... she'd met Gabe. But with him gone, and the hope dwindling that he'd ever return, the tips weren't seeming worth the trouble of dealing with guys like Aleksei.

  When they closed up for the night, Julie went back to the office. There was one man still in the bar, one of the regulars. They were on a rotation to walk the girls out to their cars after work. It was a tradition that had started long before Julie had started working there.

  "Danika?"

  Her boss was filing the night's receipts. She looked up from the pile of papers. "Yeah?"

  "I need to move on and find other work. I wanted to give you notice."

  She sighed. "I worried this was coming. Do you know how hard it is to get a cute, mildly flirty girl in here who brings in the clientele and drink orders but doesn't drink herself or go home with all the guys? You're like a unicorn around here. I'll never be able to replace you."

  "I'm sorry. I never meant to stay this long. But I like you and most of the regulars. It had started to feel like home, but now I'm sad whenever I'm here and then guys like Aleksei come in... and it's not worth it anymore."

  "I understand. But you'll give me a few weeks to find your replacement?"

  "Absolutely."

  Danika nodded, resigned. "I'll miss you, Julie. Even if you're late all the fucking time."

  Julie laughed. "Only like four times a week. Can I go for the night? Everything's wiped down and set up for tomorrow."

  "Yeah, get out of here. Once you get a fancy day job, don't be a stranger, okay?"

  "I won't."

  "Ready?" Fred asked, when she got back to the front. He was her car escort for the night.

  "Yeah."

  Fred walked her to her car. She half-expected the scary Russian guy with the snake tattoo to be lurking out in the shadows, but when they got to the parking lot, it was deserted. Fred said goodnight and waited until she pulled away to go back into the bar and wait on Danika.

  Julie only lived a couple of miles from the bar in that twilight space between the good side of town and the bad, though some nights it felt like part of the bad side.

  The apartment was dark when she arrived. Her roommate was probably out with her boyfriend. She usually went off with him when she didn't have the car. In truth, Julie barely saw her. Some cash for her half of the rent mysteriously showed up on the kitchen table at the end of each month. At least she was reliable.

  Julie fumbled with her keys. She heard a rustle and turned to find a small animal darting under a bush. Then there was a sharp pain at the back of her head and all was blackness.

  ***

  Julie woke disoriented. She reached around to the back of her head and felt a prominent and tender bump.

  "He knocked you a good one."

  She turned toward the voice still trying to get her bearings. She wasn't sure if the room was dark or if her vision was all wonky from being hit. She was lying on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed. She gingerly sat up and turned toward the direction of the voice.

  It was a dark-haired woman of maybe twenty-five. She had a slight accent, but Julie couldn't place it. She'd obviously worked very hard on an American dialect, though her words came out almost too crisp and proper as a result.

  "I'm Manka."

  "J-Julie." Her throat was so dry. Was that the creeping fear and dread?

  "You're American? We never get Americans. You must have done something to piss one of them off."

  "One of who off?" But she didn't need an explanation. The last person she'd pissed off was the R
ussian guy at the bar. He'd had criminal written all over him. So he'd just taken her?

  Julie sat up in the bed and looked around. She was in a big, long room. There were no windows. Maybe a basement? She didn't want to think warehouse. The floor was concrete and there was a row of bunk beds lining each wall and a big open space in the middle of the room. Fluorescent lights were recessed into the ceiling. In the space in the middle was a series of large drains in the floor. Overhead were a row of shower heads.

  Rising out of the floor were several concrete columns, which contained soap and shampoo. There were no curtains, no pretense of privacy. At the very end of the room against one wall was a large metal shelf with rows of neatly folded white towels. In the corner was a toilet. And again, no door, no curtain.

  She shuddered. "What is this place?"

  "It's Dmitri's basement. We live down here without sunlight or fresh air until our services are wanted. Then they dress us up like little whore dolls and take us upstairs to fuck their rich, disgusting clients."

  Julie flinched. It was almost more bluntness than she could handle, but Manka's words had come out and run together so fast, she could almost have the luxury of forgetting she'd heard half of them.

  "Who's Dmitri?" As soon as she said it, she wished she could take it back. Why ask questions she didn't really want the answers to?

  "The boss. He might look nice and fancy, but don't cross him. He will make your life hell. Aleksei is the nice one, which is saying little. And then there are some others whose names I don't know because Dmitri talks to Aleksei. Then Aleksei gives the others orders but doesn't use their names."

  Julie felt her throat constrict as her body pulled tight with tension. She felt as though this exchange with Manka was a brief calm prelude to something unimaginable and she couldn't decide if she wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible or if she wanted it to hurry and be over so she could stop dreading and anticipating whatever was coming.

  By way of distraction, she said, "There has to be a way out of here."

  Manka laughed bitterly. "Yes, that's what the new girls always say. But there isn't. You see that door at the end of the room?" She pointed to a large steel door that looked way too secure for a mere basement. "If you somehow managed to get through that door, on the other side are big, strong, armed guards. You don't want to call their attention. If they don't shoot you, they'll rape you and then toss you right back in here."