AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please read the tags first before engaging with this chapter. If all the tags are fine with you, then enjoy the story.
In the darkness, Christine opened her eyes and glanced at the clock on her nightstand.
02:57
Tugging her blanket tighter around her, she closed her eyes. Unfeeling and unmoving, she lay there until all sense of time was driven from her mind. She opened her eyes again.
03:42
She turned to the darkness. Neither dreams nor sleep reached for her. Much like her emotions, they had left her all alone to deal with the trauma. The pain that still throbbed from her lower region along with all the other pain that she feared would never be relieved. Maybe some dreams could have helped. Or a flood of emotions to let her move on. Maybe they would come later. Christine hoped so. But until then, all she had was her blanket and her digital clock that blared red.
05:03
Exhaustion had returned. The first and probably most useful. Her nerves were shot to hell, and finally, her eyes stung from being awake for too long.
I won't fight it,
she thought, drifting off into nothing.
09:37
She lifted her head, confused and squinting against the sudden light. Something had disturbed her and shattered her peaceful nonexistence, bringing her back to pain. Still disoriented, she looked around for a solid minute before she noticed.
Vmmmmm! Vmmmmm! Vmmmmm!
Her Nokia was vibrating and flashing to alert her to the call.
Fuck's sake,
she thought and picked it up.
"Hello? Christine, is that you?"
Biting her tongue, she sighed. "Yes, Derrick. It's me." Her head was pounding.
"Hey, is everything alright with you? You haven't shown up and we were worried," Derrick continued in his earnest voice.
Her eyes widened as she studied the clock with more of her brain. It was a Friday work day. But there was a snowball's chance in hell that she'd be clocking in today. "Yeah, uh listen," her throat was so dry, "I think I had something bad for dinner. I won't be able to-to make it today."
"Oh, okay. Yeah, that's okay. I'll just let everybody and Mr. Drummond know. Do you need anything? Do you want any of us to swing by with food or a ride to the hospital?"
Normally, she would have smiled at his sincerity, but that day, her mood was just not it. She gritted her teeth and controlled her tone, letting him know that everything was under control and there was no need for extra help.
"Okay then. I hope you feel better, Christine. Let us know if you change your mind about needing anything. See you on Monday," he said before she hung up. As soon as that was over, she threw herself back into bed, chasing the nothingness. The lack of pain. And she got it until around noon, when her body seemed to wake up for her, growling with hunger. She ignored that for another hour, trying to go back to sleep, but it was in vain.
She trudged out after admitting defeat and wandered through the house like a zombie. Without much thought, she went through her life. Using the bathroom, changing clothes, heating up lunch. She hadn't eaten in about twenty-four hours, Marvin's dinner going uneaten, so her stomach was screaming at her.
So exhaustion was first, then irritation, and now hunger.
She wondered when the rest would return and the pain would disappear.
Gingerly, she sat down, wincing when her sore cheeks hit the hardwood. That along with the throbbing pain in her nether regions reminded her of last night. But she shook it off and focused on her lunch. Soon, she was done and the clock hadn't even hit 2 PM. In three hours, she would have to return to the manor for her shift.
And what Mr. Morgenthau has planned for me,
she remembered. She also remembered his threats of the police, judges, and journalists. A shudder ran through her then.
No, not today. Surely, he'll understand... after what he did to me...
She picked up the landline and dialed Peggy at the agency. A quick conversation later and she was relieved for the day. A replacement would be there to cover her shift and Christine made sure that Peggy would pass along that she would be back tomorrow and eagerly so. That last part was important. If Mr. Morgenthau suspected some sort of duplicity, that would not be good for her. Not good at all.
***
At around 8 PM, her mother rolled into the driveway before stumbling through the door, giggling as she struggled with her shoes. Christine frowned. It was still a bit early for her and why was she-
Oh no. Please not again.
Breathing in hard, she went to her mother. "Everything okay, Mom?"
"Everything is just swimming, honey," she grinned, her bright eyes betraying the drinks flooding her system. She was a remarkable lightweight.
It's 'going swimmingly', you old-
She smiled tightly. "You're home a bit early, no?"
"So what? I can't come home a bit early? Who are you to tell me?" she slurred.
"Did Mr. Leonard fire you?" she decided to ask point blank.
"Yup." She nodded her head like a fucking child would. "He fired me. Mr. Leonard fired me."
Christine had her eyes wound shut as her mom began to mutter curses and insults at her dad. All the usual material, about abandonment, debt piling, and lying. After five years, it was just as tiresome as two full shifts of work so she got her situated on the armchair. In her drunkenness, Mom hadn't even noticed that she was also home early which was a relief. She didn't want to explain anything so she returned to the kitchen where the casserole was almost ready inside the lit oven. She contemplated just letting it overcook and burn. Maybe that would satisfy the crushing weight and resentment ballooning inside her chest and pressing up against her lungs. Thinking of the debts and the soon-to-be notice envelopes mailed to the house, her vision blurred. She gripped the counter and held on as the worst of the shakes and hatred ripped through her.
Slowly, the pressure passed. The muscles in her fingers ached and stiffened as she released her tight grip. After another few minutes, her breathing had gone back to normal, though the same could not be said for her thoughts. Still, they were working overtime as the numbers were crunched and their already teetering situation was sliding further towards the hole.
Time for job hunting season,
she thought as she reached for the casserole with her oven mitts.
Hopefully, it doesn't take a long while.
It took a while for Mom to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, however. Nearly four hours in fact. Slumping down, she stared at the plate of casserole in front of her.
"It's gotten cold," she whined.
"The microwave's over there, Mom," she replied, not bothering to look up from the newspaper's job openings section. Christine continued to ignore her as she went about it. It only took a minute or two before she was back and chewing silently.
"It came out really well, honey." Christine ignored her and circled a listing. "Are you mad at me? I didn't mean to get fired... it's just, you know Mr. Leonard and..." she continued to babble on about her excuses, testing her patience. She tried to focus on the newspaper but the ongoing patheticism had her eyes stuck in one place, no longer reading.
After several minutes, she finally replied, "I understand, Mom." She tossed the paper on the table. "I've circled the jobs you can call tomorrow. Tomorrow's paper will probably have a few more of them too."
Her casual nonreaction seemed to hit her harder. In a small voice, she said, "Okay. I'll pick up a few more shifts at the hospital too." Christine nodded and stood, tired and ready to sleep.
The problems never fucking end...
"Are you feeling better, honey? I noticed you weren't feeling good this morning and tried to wake you, but you brushed me off."
"Yeah, just had some bad food last night. Took the day off from both jobs." The lie came easy but she felt a pit open up in her stomach as the memories of last night came flooding in. "Have a good night."
She retreated to her room and her bed. Under the blanket, all the bad memories returned, fresh as if they were happening right there and then. Mr. Morgenthau's relaxed demeanor growing colder and closer. His lashings, first on her jeans, then on her bare ass, welting it red and raw. Then his fingers, spreading her open and diving in, forcing her body to lubricate against her wishes. Then his cock, girthy and long, forcefully inching itself in against her protests and pleading. The painful stretching and humiliation as he reached and violated parts of her that no one had ever reached before. Not her previous few boyfriends or her own attempts. And after all that, him cumming inside of her, the raw and hot rush of his sperm, owning her and terrifying her. It was a miracle she was in the safe part of her cycle.
The tears returned as she remembered it all. Hot and heavy after an entire day to recharge, they streaked down her face as she sobbed into her pillow. Her whole body shook, racked with phantom pain as much as real. She thought she could still feel Mr. Morgenthau, in her, on here, breathing hard into her back. The entire day she had done her best to occupy her mind and focus on other things and yet as midnight approached, there she was again, broken down and vulnerable, and thinking of tomorrow.
***
"Welcome to McDonald's, can I take your order?" Christine looked up from the register and, in a millisecond, went through surprise, embarrassment, and resentment before landing on control, though the embarrassment lingered and likely showed up as light blushes on her cheeks.
"Oh hey, Christine. I almost didn't recognize you," said Franklin, looking as perfect as ever, his light brown hair recently cut.
"Hey... how are things with you? Shouldn't you be at Harvard for the start of the year?" she asked, fiddling with the register.
"I should, but I got a family thing in town so I got permission for a week."
"Cool," she muttered and went silent, unable to think of things to say given how busy she was thinking of her embarrassment.
"So, how's it going? Still got that debt-"
"-Hey, buddy, you gonna order or not?!" a fat, walrus-looking man interrupted. It was a Saturday afternoon and the customers were practically never-ending.
Franklin apologized and quickly stated his order. As she rang him up, he asked, "You still on that same number? Tiffany mentioned some time ago that she couldn't reach you."
"You know me," she counted out his change, "Nothing's changed." Her smile was tight and professional. Nodding, he said he would give her a call and moved on so the fatass could order his feast. She took his order and a few dozen others as the clock slowly ticked away toward 4 PM. It would soon be time to return to the mansion where Mr. Morgenthau was likely waiting for her.
