Agreeing to move in with him, Dave and Susan become a couple.
Dave and Susan climbed in the Hummer, drove to his apartment, and parked the big truck in front of his door. He knew his buddy would be by to collect his truck soon, after making arrangements to sell Tyrone's new Cadillac Escalade to the international contacts they had and load the luxury SUV on a container ship headed to North Africa. No matter what they were selling there were buyers everywhere to buy anything and they knew where to look to find them.
"Are you okay?" He asked her finally when they pulled up in front of his apartment after driving there in silence not talking about what just happened.
"Am I okay?" She looked as if waiting for him to ask that loaded question. She looked at him as if taking aim with a gun. If looks could kill, he'd be dead.
"Susan, I just asked you one lousy question. I didn't attack you in the way you're about to attack me," he said wanting to slap her as much as he wanted to kiss her.
Maybe because he found her tied to a strippers' pole naked but he was already sexually aroused that five men saw her naked.
"You're really a piece of work Dave. Maybe because your entire life had been war and death, violence doesn't affect you in the way that it affects others," said Susan shaking her head while staring at him. "Based on how you go through life numbly after killing someone, apparently you don't know how you're supposed to feel. So, you tell me. How do you think I am?"
"What?" He truly didn't hear what she had just said. He stopped listening to her when she started yelling at him. With both afflicted with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and each one handling their emotional condition differently, she was filled with rage. He just had to scratch the surface with her for her hair to stand up on her back. Perfect for one another as both of them played that troubled game, as soon as she raised her voice to him, he tuned her out. "I don't understand why you're so angry Susan."
In the way that Tyrone and his two men had stripped her naked, he wanted to strip her naked and fuck her. He wanted to dominate her and control her so that she'd just shut the Hell up. He wanted to show her that he was the boss man and she was the lowly woman.
"You don't understand why I'm so angry?" She stared at him without talking. "After being kidnapped, stripped naked, and slapped around by three men, do you really think that I'd be okay?" As if thinking about all that happened, she paused and he wondered if she was as sexually aroused being stripped naked as he was sexually excited seeing her tied to the stripper's pole naked. "Tyrone stuck his finger inside of me while touching me and feeling me everywhere." She looked at him with anger.
Dave put his head down as if he was supposed to feel more than what he felt. Certainly, he felt glad that Susan was safe and sound but, as if she was blaming him for her putting herself in danger, he didn't understand why she was so angry about now. She was the one who had walked out on him. The only thing he felt now was anger anger giving his men the order to behead Tyrone. The only thing he felt was vengeance when he knew that Tyrone was dead and the proceeds of his sold truck would go as payment to his buddies for helping him. The only other thing that he felt was sexual excitement by the thought of Susan tied to the pole and standing there naked in front of three black men and his two friends, Mike and Big Louie.
Proud that she was his woman, at least he hoped she was, Mike and Big Louie must have been besides themselves with lust when seeing Susan's hot, naked body and giant sized breasts. An unspoken code between them, knowing they'd never speak of it to say, he wondered what Mike and Big Louie thought of Susan's hot body. He knew they saw her. He knew they were looking. Having entered the room after Mike, Big Louie may not have seen as much of Susan as the other four men had.
He now had second thoughts about allowing the other two men to go free after stripping Susan naked and touching her everywhere they shouldn't have felt her. Who knows, maybe he turned their lives around? Maybe after putting the fear of God in them, they'd take that as a second chance to give up drugs, prostitution, and violence. Able to easily disarm them, those two weren't cut out for that line of work.
"I'm sorry that Tyrone sexually assaulted you but, if it means anything to you at all, I can promise you that he'll never touch you again," he said gripping the steering wheel as if he was gripping Tyrone's neck.
Outraged that he had fingered his woman, he should have had Big Louie cut off his fingers before cutting off his head. In the way that some of his men have been tortured and killed by the Taliban, a slow death would have more befitted Tyrone for what he's done to women and how he treated and disrespected his childhood friend, Carmen from Detroit. Tyrone was lucky he hadn't had the time to force Susan to blow him. Then, instead of showing him mercy by having Big Louie make just one, quick cut, loping off pieces at a time, he would have made him feel real pain before he died.
"You don't have a clue how I feel to ask me that question. You should know how I feel," she said no longer looking at him and sitting angrily quiet for a moment. "I thought they were going to rape me and gangbang me before killing me," she said softly as if talking to herself with her eyes welling up with tears. "I thought I'd never see you again," she said pausing to look at him before finishing the last of what she said in a whisper. "I thought I'd never get to tell you how I feel about you."
He was stunned by her admission that she had feeling for him. Acting as if she hated him and wanted to kill him, to hear her confess that she had feelings for him was something he's been waiting to hear.
"You have feeling for me?" He looked at her still feeling hurt, angry, and rejected that she walked out on him after telling her that he loved her. "How do you feel about me?" He looked at her waiting for her to respond and continued talking when she didn't. "Now that I've already told you how I feel about you and you didn't tell me now how you feel about me," he said looking at her with love while waiting for her to answer him. When she didn't answer him, he asked his question again. "How do you feel about me?"
He wanted to reach out and hold her but, too far of a divide to cross, the wide center console of the Hummer was in the way of him putting his arm around her and having an intimate moment with her. Maybe if they were standing outside of the truck, he would have hugged her but in the horny way that he felt right now, she would have taken offense when he reached down to cup her sweet ass with one hand while feeling her big breast with his other. Instead he just reached out to pat and squeeze her shoulder before rubbing her left ear with his right hand as if she was a dog.
Not knowing what else to do, Dave wasn't very good at intimate moments, especially when fully dressed. Apparently not much better than he was at showing her feelings, better at showing her anger, she seemed tensely uncomfortable with the conversation and with him putting her on the spot. As if he was a pesky mosquito, she voiced her obvious frustration to communicate by swatting his hand away from her ear.
"Stop that," she said brushing his hand away. "I'm not your dog," she gave him a laugh. "Gees, Dave, for someone who knows how to handle himself in every situation, you're at a loss when it comes to women."
Kettle black he wanted to say. She should talk because in the way she was acting now, other than fighting them, hitting them, kicking them, and punching them, she was at a loss when it came to handling men too. They were both so much alike in that regard. Both would rather be physical than emotional. Both would rather hit than talk.
