Page 13 of The Veil

“Right now, I don't trust anyone,” I noted, relaxing my hands and resting them in my lap.

“Well that’s one thing we have in common then,” he muttered resentfully. “Listen, I do not want you to know who I am at the moment. My privacy is particularly important to me.”

“Fine!” I hoped to be dismissed.

“I'm not going to actually sleep with you right now,” he murmured, forming a triangle with his fingertips, lightly tapping his lips.

“Then why am I here?”

“I want to help you,” he sighed in frustration, “but it's important to me that my identity remain a secret for now, Isabelle.”

A snort involuntarily escaped my mouth, “What are you, some famous celebrity or something?”

“Something like that I guess,” he groaned. “I just think it's better for both of us if you don't know who I am.”

“I need to get a job,” I pleaded. “I cannot stay here.”

The minute those words left my mouth, I recalled that I needed to find another job as soon as possible and it was not simply an excuse. Money obviously came easy for him but not me. I sighed, saddened at what had happened.

As my voice began to shake, I stammered, “I recently got fired from a job where I was sexually harassed every shift and as of right now, I can no longer afford my apartment in the city.”

His body shot up out of the chair as if someone lit a fire under him. He stomped to where I sat, squatting down in front of me. I scurried to adjust myself in my seat, unsurely placing some distance between the man and me.

“He did what?!” he growled as he clenched his teeth, losing his American accent once again.

“He used to use every opportunity he could to touch me,” I whined as my eyes filled with tears.

“He will not be a problem to you again,” he abruptly paused, inhaling deeply. “Go to your room and I will have breakfast delivered to you there.”

I nodded as we both stood. He slid his phone from his pocket, placing it to his ear.

“I need to make some business calls.”

“Uh, can someone show me how to get back to it?” I mumbled as I awkwardly turned toward the direction of the door before I pivoted back to face him.

He chuckled as he lowered his phone. Placing his mouth to his watch, he began speaking in a language I did not recognize. Taking my hands in his, he sighed while tilting his head a bit as he studied me.

“Before they enter, I want you to know that you are safe here,” he assured me. “I will never force you to do anything you are not ready for.”

I nodded. He seemed sincere and dare I say, nice.

“In fact,” he continued, “I want to know more about you before all this is over.”

My mind was beginning to play tricks on me. If I did not know better, I would say that he sounded almost as if he cared about me. I averted my gaze to the floor, unsure how to respond. He slid a second phone out of his other pocket, flipping my hand over so that my palm was exposed. Placing it in my hand, he gently folded my fingertips over it.

“I kind of destroyed your other phone,” he admitted, “so here is a new one.”

I shifted my weight back and forth. “O-okay,” I stuttered softly.

“My number is the only number in the contacts right now,” he sighed, “so call or text me any time.”

“But you're in the same house,” I snickered.

“Are you planning to walk around the house in a blindfold hoping you run into me?”

“Good point.”

“Like I said,” he quickly continued, “call me or text me any time you want to chat.” He leaned in close to my ear. Placing his hand in the crook of my elbow, he whispered softly, “I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

---