No one wanted to see the Provider.
But with her mother sick and Tally injured... she had to go. People would start to get desperate for food, they'd get anxious, start fights. She had seen it devolve before. Worry over the next meal always made their little community meaner, rougher, impatient. Best to head it off early, before they did something stupid, like kill another one of the dogs.
If that meant she had to go to Langdon's alone, then so be it.
She would pay the price.
*
"Jetta, it's been a long while." He'd met her at the entrance to his compound, low voice gentle and supposedly sweet. His long body had been leaned back against the thick metal door and both his guns had been visible, one on his hip and the rifle in his hands. She wasn't surprised by his presence. She knew he had cameras.
She also knew better than to trust him. Past his pretty blue eyes was a hardness, an unexplainable anger. Something stern, dark.
He sent a long look down the front of her, letting it linger on her breasts and hips. "Where's your mother?"
"Our matron is sick, sir. It's been a week."
His face suddenly hardened even more, anger flushing his throat and cheeks. "No one came sooner? Why?"
"Tally and Ten are both injured. One of the other houses came after us last - "
"Dire straits, Jetta," he acknowledged, nodding slowly as he licked at his bottom lip and stood up straight. She watched him shift aside and motion toward the door with the nose of his rifle. "Was no one else willing to come?"
"I didn't ask anyone else. It's my place, I'm the next matron."
"There's a first time for everything. Isn't there, sweetheart?"
She shivered at how pleased he sounded.
*
"What sort of sickness? Fever?"
She was too awed by the splendor and comfort surrounding her, she didn't really take in what he had asked. After three locked doors and a long tunnel they had come to the center of a warm and well furnished room. It was big, housed a long couch and a thick armchair. There were multiple lights, an unbroken table beside the chair. Books took over the shelves on the walls, books and weapons of all sorts. There were three doors on each of the remaining walls and all of them closed, with heavy padlocks.
"Jetta," he barked at her, slapping a hand at her thigh to snap her attention back. "Is there fever?"
"Yes, sir. I think it's an infection. No one else has it."
"Good reasoning," he nodded his agreement. "So you'll need food and medicine."
Double the haul meant double the payment.
She hated to have to add more to the proverbial grocery list. "And a weapon? Maybe?"
Lucas Langdon gave her a surprised but bemused smile, one that was obviously affectionate but also... leering. "How big of one would you like, sweet Jetta?"
They had always called him their Provider - but he was just another man. Albeit one with more powerful weaponry and a pipeline to the supplies from the topside. Access to the topside. He could go wander in the sun whenever he wanted...
"Big. For Tally."
Langdon smiled again and offered over the rifle he was holding, "Like this?"
"Yes."
"Hold it," he nodded, smirking. "Go on."
He was so sure that she wouldn't kill him...
And he was right.
They'd all seen what the topside had done to the last family to kill a provider. It had been gruesome, disturbing. There'd been no family left when they were finished.
"Add this to the order then?" He asked as she took the automatic rifle in her hands, holding it carefully. His hand lifted and long gloved fingers brushed her hair out of her face, the leather warmer than she expected.
"Yes, sir. And ammunition."
He grinned so wildly that her fingers tightened on the gun and her stomach lurched. "Smart girl, aren't you?"
"I'm not sure."
He nodded, fingers gripping in her hair and pulling her forward by it. "A month's rations, the medicine, the gun and a box of ammo."
"Two boxes."
"Jetta," he murmured, pressing over her as his thumb pressed at her throat. "That's a very large order. You sure you can pay for all that?"
He was suddenly terrifying even though she was the one holding the loaded weapon. His eyes had gone cloudy gray and she could feel his hot breath on her skin. His other hand, the one not on her throat, had grasped onto her hip to keep her from backing away.
He would have been handsome if he wasn't exactly what he was. Full dark hair, broad shoulders and thin hips, tall and confident.
"I'll try."
He kissed her cheek with a laugh, "Get comfortable, girl. You'll be here awhile."
She just hugged the weapon closer as he pushed away from her and headed for one of the closed doors.
"We both need a stiff drink, I believe."
*
When she woke her brain was muzzy, filmed and clouded. She could still taste the whiskey and whatever powdered concoction had been chalky on her tongue.
"Just something to relax you, Jetta," he murmured, his mouth closer to her ear than she expected. She tried to shrug away from it but her body was too heavy, too weighed down and pressed still. He had drugged her and stripped her, sure... but he'd also put her flat to something in a room that was lit only by a lamp and some candles. It was a smaller room but more shadows clung to the corners. It was much warmer than the first room and she figured that was intentional, considering she was naked. The table, or whatever it was she was on, sat at a shallow angle, keeping her half upright. She was strapped to it but not tightly, just enough to keep her upright against the surface, a strap around her waist. Her legs and arms were tied down as well but, again, not too tightly.
"My things - "
"Your belongings are safe," Langdon assured her. "I have no use for them, do I?"
She just shook her head, feeling her stomach muscles clench as he brushed his knuckles against her and then his whiskey glass, obviously refilled. He was standing closer than she expected. The table must have been notched between her legs, allowing him room.
"Can you feel this yet?"
"It's cold," she whispered as they both watched him wipe condensation on her stomach.
"Good," he nodded and took a slow drink, jostling the ice around. "Shall we review payment? Or would you rather - "
"I'd rather just get it over with. Cost isn't gonna change."
He grinned and took another drink, nodding his appreciation for her directness as he swallowed. After a beat he tipped his head and looked her over. "How old again?"
"Nineteen," she whispered.
Langdon nodded, the glass getting rubbed just above the curls at the apex of her thighs, making her flinch. "Have you been bred yet?"
"Not until - "
"Right. Your twenty-first birthday. What a delightful rite of passage your people have." He looked absolutely feral at the idea of it, a smile on his thin lips. "It's too bad you won't be able to take part in it once I'm finished with you. They'll all know once you get back, hmm? Once the supplies arrive they'll understand. Whores who fuck before their first breeding don't get mates, do they, Jetta?"
