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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just in case anyone needs to brush on up their Spanish profanity:
novio - boyfriend
puta - whore/bitch
cállate puta - shut up whore
I’ll drain him. But the idea of having Jose in her head . . . the things he would say . . . the things he might make her do . . . she had never been able to make herself touch him before. But I’ll do it if I have to. I will.

His fingertip pressed into the mark on her neck. “You didn’t tell me you had un novio, Maria.” He let her go, chuckling to himself, and went back to counting his money.

Marie took a step backwards, forcing herself to be calm. Dead inside, just dead. It was an odd sort of strength, but the only one she knew how to draw upon. I’m nothing. I’m nobody. It doesn’t matter if he hurts me. I don’t care. “Sir, my rent’s up. I just need my pay, please.” Her voice came out hollow and toneless.

Ever so slowly, he circled around her, backed her into the counter, and slapped the stack of bills he had been counting against her cheek, then trailed them over her lips and down her neck.

I’m nobody. I’m not here.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. We need to talk first. You know what I don’t appreciate, muñeca?”

His teasing voice pulled her back. She had come to recognize that tone, like the rattle of a snake before it struck. This was not a good day to mess with him. I should have left. I should have just left. Stupid, stupid, stupid . . .

“What I don’t appreciate is when some white puta thinks she can get away with holding out on me.”

She never held out on him. Never. He took thirty percent, and sometimes she even padded her tips from her own money to make sure he wouldn’t think she was cheating him. “I dunno what you’re—“

“¡Cállate puta!” The back of his hand connected with her cheekbone, and she cried out more from surprise than the pain that blossomed all along the right side of her face.

This was nothing. He could have split the skin and left her dazed and teary-eyed. He was just looking for a reason to hit harder, and she didn’t intend to give him one.

At least, that was the best she could figure. She had never really understood Jose’s unique brand of cruelty, try as she might. Maybe if she understood it better, she could figure out how to avoid it.

As it was, she just hoped she never had to endure it again after today.
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