Page 19 of The Auction
But, an entire stew made out of chicken liver?
That wasn’t going to be very pleasant.
The door to my bedroom swung open and I braced myself for his ire.
“The fuck is this, Jules?” he asked, a bowl of brown mush in his hand.
“Chicken liver stew,” I said, honestly. “It’s one of my favorites,” I lied.
I’d made myself a peanut butter sandwich earlier.
“This is fucking bullshit and you know it. This tastes like shit and I’m not eating it.”
I shrugged. “Okay. I can’t help if you don’t like what I make. You should probably let me know if you have issues with squirrel meat, too.”
His eyes narrowed. Not in the way he sometimes looked at me, like he wanted to see what I looked like naked. No,this expression was his assessment gaze. Like he was deciding how far I might go.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?” I asked.
“We’ll have dinner every night at six. Together,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my wife and wives and husbands have family dinner together.”
“Really? Is that what you learned in white school, or on the res?”
His lips twisted in a sneer.
“You’ll eat what I eat every night.”
“And if I say no?” I asked him, already growing bored with this conversation. He couldn’t force me to have dinner with him.
“I’ll take away your driving privileges.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “You’re not my father,” I reminded him.
“I’m sure as fuck not, because one day I’m going to bury my cock in that precious pussy of yours.”
My body went rigid. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m promising you, baby,” he said, with zero sympathy. “You eat with me so what you cook for me, is also what you cook for you. You do this or I take away access to the truck.”
I’d already hidden the keys to Herb’s truck, (my truck now), in a place Creed would never find them. Just as a precaution, if he ever tried to pull this stunt.
He laughed then and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. I shifted myself up against the wall as far away from him as I could get. I was wearing sweat pants and a matching sweatshirt. The least naked I could be. But he still made me uncomfortable. Like I could feel his body heat.
“You think you’re so damn smart. Think you’ve gotthose keys tucked away somewhere I can’t get to them? Maybe you’re hiding them in your pussy because you think I won’t go there. Doesn’t matter. What do you know about alternators? Belts? Engines? I have some skill sets that I haven’t exactly shared with you. Know this, Jules, you don’t show up for dinner tomorrow night at six on the fucking dot and you will begin to learn what I’m capable of.”
“Fine,” I relented.
Having access to transportation wasn’t something I was willing to compromise. If I needed to get away, at the very least I had that.
“Fine,” he nodded. “You eat what I eat.”
The very nextnight I made taco casserole.
