Please let me know what you think of this story.
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When you arrive back at the room, I am on the floor. Everything on the nightstand, including the phone, is all over the floor also. The look on my face is one that says "Oh Fuck, I am in trouble now." You set the food on the nightstand and walk around the room picking everything up. Everything that is, except for me. I can tell by the look on your face that I better not be the one to speak first. I opt to continue to wait until you speak first.
"Did you make your call?" you ask trying to maintain a calm tone.
"No, I didn't make any calls."
"Well then the only other conclusion that I can come up with, why I came back to this room in the condition it was in, is that you would rather sleep on the floor, if you weren't making a phone call." I know that I shouldn't argue with you, and now is probably not the best time so I keep quiet. "COME HERE!" you order rather loudly. I try to say "I can't" but the words are no sooner out of my mouth and I hear you bark out, "You can, and you will. If you can get yourself off the bed...you can get yourself over here, NOW."
I slide myself the best I can, across the floor, it takes a couple of minutes, but I make it to your feet. When I am in arms reach, you grab a handful of my hair pulling my face up to look at you and say "So bitch, which is it...you hope I don't get caught, or you're going to help get me caught!"
Quietly I speak "I don't want you to get caught."
"I don't believe you." Were the only words you said, before getting up and walking out the door? An hour later when you arrive back, you find me exactly where I was when you left; the only difference is you can tell that I have been crying.
Calmer now, you say "Are you hungry?" I nod my head yes, but dare not to say anything. "Speak up or go without."
"Yes please, I am hungry."
You untie my hands, and let me have my food, that is by now, ice cold, but I remind myself it is my own fault I am eating cold food. The whole time I am eating I can tell by your silence you are very upset with me. I haven't looked at you yet, to see what your face says, I don't dare look up. I am almost afraid of what I might find in that face if I look up. You untie my legs and throw some clothes at me and say "Go in the fucking bathroom and put these on."
I do what you asked and notice that the clothes are new, they are very nice new clothes, but a little on the slutty slide. When I walk out of the bathroom you have your head in your hands, and don't look up. I slowly walk to you and kneel at your feet. Normally I would ask you what was wrong, but this time I knew what was wrong, but I didn't know how to fix it.
Quietly you say "Here is $100. Go. Catch a bus and go home."
I look up at you shocked, you stuff the money into my bra and say "Go. Get the hell out of here, before I change my mind."
Part of my brain says I should go, but the other part says no. Looking at the floor I quietly say "I don't want to."
"I don't think you want to stay either."