I wake up to a spider delicately walking across my cheek .  Usually it's the  sound of the upstair's neighbor screaming at her kids.  I brush the arachnid from my face and sit up, regarding my surroundings.

This place is a dump, but it's all I can afford.  There are three dead bolts on the door and bars across the windows.  Sometimes as I drift off to sleep I hear scurrying across the bare floors.  I never check to look, merely pull the covers up over my head.  Maybe I should look into getting a cat.

I grimace at the body next to me.  He should have had the decency to leave before dawn.  I'm not in the mood for any playful , post-coital banter.    I start to get out of bed when his arm reaches across my waist, pulling me onto my back.

"Morning Baby" he mumbles into my neck.

I attempt to release myself from this unwanted sign of affection.

"I thought you left."

He holds me tighter, planting soft kisses onto my shoulder, his hand gripping at my breast.  His touch is possessive, not affectionate.

"A gentleman doesn't sneak out in the middle of the night, he always stays to say good bye."

I  break free and make my way across the cold floor towards the bathroom.  "You weren't invited here because you're a gentleman."   I hope he picks up on the element of sarcasm in my voice as I slam the door behind me.

 I flush the toilet and regard myself  in the mirror over the sink.  Dark, purple bruises appear on my wrists and upper arms.  My lip is split, my eye black and swollen.  I gently pull back my lips and am relieved to see I still have all my teeth.  I slurp some water and spit; blood swirls into the sink.  I open the door and head towards the kitchen, pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the fridge. Taking a swig I wander back towards the bed.   He's still here.  I take another swig and start to look for my cigarettes, calling over my shoulder.

"Don't stay on my account.  I have plans for this morning."

A sleepy, cynical smile appears on his face. He places his hands behind his head and settles into the pillow.

"Really?  Meeting some girlfriends for brunch?   Running out to get some groceries?  From the look of this dump, you don't bring a lot of money in.  Then of course, there's your face. How're you going to explain that?"

He's starting to piss me off and I try to remember why I brought him home.  I smile sweetly as I light up and take a deep drag.

"No sweetie, I'm meeting my granny for church.  She likes to go to early mass and needs someone to take her.  It's a minor duty, but I am responsible for her.  I'll just tell her I was mugged.  Again.  This is a rough neighborhood.  It wouldn't be the first time I showed up to church bruised."

He laughs and throws the covers off  him.  He looks good naked, and he knows it.  He grabs himself, wiggling it towards me, a lure to a greedy fish.

" I think you're lying.  I don't think you have a grandma.   I think if  you set foot in a church you'd spontaneously burst into flames."

I take another gulp of bourbon, trying to ignore the aching in my body.  I place the bottle on the nightstand, then get on the bed and  plant myself across his groin.   His hips begin to move rythymically beneath me as his hands move up and clutch at my breasts.  Still possessive and slightly mean.  I feel an overwhelming urge to hurt him.  I take another drag off my cigarette, blowing smoke into his face, then begin to press the tip into his flesh.   He moans and that cynical grin appears once again as he begins to pinch my nipples.

"You give as good as you get, don't you baby?"

He cracks me across the face as he plunges deep inside me.  I remember why I brought him home as the blood begins to drip down my face.

My Hands Are Tied

"How could you betray me like this?"

The matter of fact tone to your voice throws me. I usually hear a hint of pain, or a touch of disbelief, when I'm asked that question. But not you; you almost sound as if you expected it. I glance over towards you sitting on the couch.

"It's nothing personal. This is business, pure and simple."

A smile comes to your face, as your gaze drifts off.

"Business. Of course. You always were a fast learner. My best student."

Your eyes turn towards mine, fixing me with a deadly stare.

"And now the student is the master?"

There's no mistaking the anger beneath those words. I fumble slightly as I place ice in the glass in front of me, trying to maintain my composure. Trying to maintain the upper hand. Trying to understand why, despite my anxiety at this moment, I'm slightly aroused by your fury. I pour some Jack into the glass, then slowly make my way over towards you. I feel as if I'm approaching a wounded tiger. I offer you the glass, but you slap it out of my hands, ice cubes flying.

"I take it straight. Perhaps you haven't learned as much as you thought."

That cold stare is boring into my soul. Boring into my heart; I feel it start to race as I bend over to retrieve the glass. I drop my guard for a moment, just enough time for you to knock me to my knees. I feel the weight of your foot as you place it on the nape of my neck. I brace myself.

"And now the student is the master?"

I try to think of an answer, but the only think that runs through my head is mindless banter. I struggle for breath, struggle to regain the upper hand. I can feel the sole of your shoe rubbing against my skin; rich Italian leather. I strain to turn my face towards you.

"Why are you taking this so personally, I told you, this is business. There's nothing I can do, my hands are tied."

You shift your weight, dropping onto the floor, your body straddling my back. You unknot the silk tie at your throat, then pull my hands behind me, binding them together.

"Now they are. What lesson should I teach you now?"