Chapter Twenty
Somehow I made it through classes the next day and came directly back to Torch instead of stopping for coffee with friends like I normally did. I was already walking like an arthritic old woman and was wearing bulky clothes with no panties to cover the welts and keep pressure off of the sore spots. I didn't think I could take yet another hard, uncomfortable chair.
I went up to my apartment and dumped off my stuff before heading down to the office to fill out the infamous paperwork. I was still furious that Will had set me up. I expected something terrible from Beverly, but not from him. And even more unbelievably, I came down on the same side as she did about Cliff.
I knocked and Lawrence let me in. Will was sitting at his desk and Beverly was pacing back and forth in front of him, obviously pissed off. I assured Lawrence I was doing better and sat in a free chair, feeling like I was about to testify at a trial or something.
"Well, Marri," Beverly said, still pacing, "I take it you were able to get through your day."
"Thanks to a bottle of ibuprofen."
Will smiled but she didn't look amused. "And would you say this client meant to do you real, personal harm?"
"Yes," I answered, and I meant it.
"Do you think he would do the same to you or the other girls if he was granted another session?"
"Yes. He's a total misogynist. He's convinced women are worthless and determined to punish us for it."
Will looked like he was about to say something, but Beverly cut him off. "Lawrence, what's your opinion?"
"I agree with Marri," he said, coming up behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder. "He beat her until she actually passed out. He showed no concern for her welfare, even after I put a stop to it. He was determined to continue regardless of the consequences."
She turned to glare at her husband. "I told you not to assign him! We're just lucky she wasn't seriously hurt! How could we explain that kind of injury to a hospital or even the police? We'd be shut down and locked up along with all of the girls!"
"That would never happen, Beverly," Will reassured her calmly. "If our files were seized, far too many prominent citizens would be implicated for them to prosecute."
"But you're willing to risk it? Risk our home and our lives for the sake of one client?"
"Add him to your file, Beverly, and be done with it. Do we really need this drama? Tonight's clients will be here soon."
He sounded so matter of fact, like we were just a big bother. I wanted to smash him in the head. Suddenly, Beverly was my champion, and I resented that more than anything. Being defended by someone you hate, even if her motives are less than altruistic, is unnerving.
Beverly narrowed her eyes at him but remained silent. I had the feeling the two of them would have one hell of a fight later, but I didn't care. All I knew was that I was sore and I'd have to get ready for a client soon, something I wasn't looking forward to at all.
Lawrence patted my shoulder and I stood to leave. Beverly cleared her throat and said, "I think you earned a night off, Marri. We'll have an easy client for you on Sunday."
I was astounded, but I just nodded. I went back to my apartment feeling like I was in a fog. I drew a hot bath and soaked, debating whether or not to call Andrew. On the one hand, I had an unexpected night off, but I'd have to explain why. And if I saw him, he'd see the welts, leading to even more explanations.
I decided to decide later. I closed my eyes and relaxed, letting the water soothe my poor, aching body.
* * * * *
"Hello?"
"Andrew? This is Marri."
"Marri. Hi!" He sounded surprised and I didn't blame him. I called him at work, hoping to catch him before he left, and I hadn't been planning on talking to him until the next day.
"Hi."
"What's up?" he asked, sounding a little worried.
"I, uh, ended up with the night off, so I thought if you were free, you might want to get together."
"Yeah, sure. Do you want me to come pick you up or will that get you in trouble?"
I almost laughed, but I didn't feel like getting into it on the phone. "That's fine. What time?"
"Give me an hour?"
"Okay. Bye."
"Bye."
I hung up and packed a small bag. I figured I'd end up there at least for one night, and I really didn't want to use my finger for a toothbrush again. I even packed a couple of my textbooks since he'd have to go work in the morning and I sure as hell didn't want to come back here and face Will and Beverly any sooner than absolutely necessary.
I spent the next hour cleaning up my apartment. I had a lot of nervous energy to use before Andrew got there. I sorted out the laundry, putting the dirty clothes into a hamper to take with me next time I was on campus so I could use the Laundromat and folded the clean ones to put back into the dresser. I washed my few dirty dishes and briefly considered cleaning the bathroom but changed my mind. My body was just too sore.
There was a knock on the door and I shuffled over to answer it. I pulled it open and found Andrew on the other side. I blushed, knowing I looked disheveled, and he smiled down at me, his eyes still looking concerned.
"Hi," he said. "That guy Lawrence let me up."
"Come in," I told him, still taken off guard. "Sorry the place is a mess. I haven't been around much. It's almost finals."
"It looks fine. Don't worry about it." I shut the door and locked it and he reached his arms out to me. I gingerly stepped into them and he enveloped me in a hug. I winced as he pressed on the welts and he pulled back, surprised.
"What? What's wrong?"
"I'm just a little sore, that's all," I said, suddenly wishing I hadn't called him in the first place. I had no idea how he'd take my session with Cliff, and I didn't want to have him feel sorry for me. After all, it was partly my fault. I antagonized him instead of playing the good little fucktoy.
"Why do you have the night off, Marri?" he asked, suddenly very serious. "Lawrence told me to take good care of you tonight, and it obviously hurts when I touch you, so what happened?"
I couldn't lie, and I couldn't get out of the date now. It was stupid of me to call him. Stupid and selfish. I didn't want him involved in my job at all. It was part of my life I wanted to keep separate from everything else.
But I couldn't now. I knew he wouldn't go until he had answers. I just wished I had a better explanation than the truth.
"My client got a little rough last night, that's all."
"How rough?"
"Andrew..." I began, but he cut me off.
"How rough?"
"Pretty rough. I called it off before he was done."
As a former client, Andrew knew all about the safe words and how they were only to be used in moments of panic or fear. His eyes flashed and I knew he was struggling to keep his voice calm.