Words Unspoken

Just like the first night I would cook, he'd do the dishes and we'd drink some juice or water — minus the sleeping pills. During the course of the month I learned Roman was very selective about what he ate and that he loved messing with me, for instance, when I was watching TV he'd waltz in and change the channel and then stuff the remote in his pants. He knew I was way too shy to try to retrieve it from him. And since I was a morning person and he wasn't, when I woke up first during the weekends, he'd groan and pull me back to bed. On the rare occasions when he woke up first and I overslept he'd run the tips of his fingers over my eyelashes until the tingling sensation woke me up.
It was oddly uncomfortable not being able to hear his voice — it felt familiar to me, as though I had known him for years — and the fact that I couldn't stop my gaze from searching for him the second I stepped into a room, at school, at Jennie's, and that, I realized was pathetic.
That last week Thursday while I did some cleaning in the lounge I accidentally pressed a hidden button on the wall which opened up to a dark furnished room, its left wall would make a gangster drool — there was every kind of weapon imaginable, some I recognized from movies — pistols, rifles, bombs, blades, FN P90 submachine gun, the 9mm Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun, and the 12-gauge Remington 870 shotgun — the others were guns big, others long and then there was one that caught my attention in particular, it was pure gold, embedded with the initials RJR.
I stood in the doorway frozen in surprise. Suddenly something brushed against my neck as I studied the only sword in the room. My eyes widened with terror.
"Relax, Nuru, it's just me." It was Roman but his voice sounded strange, the way it usually did when he was trying not to get worked up.
"God!" I whispered, voice breaking, worried. "It looks like a war zone here!"
His reaction was bizarre. "You just need to forget what you saw here," he said uncomfortably, his eyes pale, vacant of any emotion. "Do you think that's possible, Nuru?"
I notice how calm his voice was but still the authority and threat in his undertone made me shudder.
I heard his footsteps back away until the sound faded.
I sneakily took a step in the room, my heart was racing against my chest, I was taking another step when I heard a man's voice. Hard, furious, hostile.
"You dare!"
A scream tore through my dry lips and then suddenly a hand, rough, familiar, clamped down my mouth, the arm going over my head, forcing me back against his chest.
"Do you suppose it would be too much really for you to shut up?"
I shook my head.
"I thought we understood the rules pretty nicely." He paused for a moment. "I thought we agreed that I wouldn't touch you sexually and you wouldn't go access anything else except the bedroom, the kitchen and lounge."
"Mhmmmm..." I tried to answer but my voice got muffled by his hand.
"I know we didn't set rules and so technically we didn't talk about it, so I'll let this one slide."
He released me and watched my panicked eyes for a second. His remained resolutely cold.
"For your sake I really do hope you forget what you think you saw here." He pulled me back and shut the door.
I was scared of him, scared of the weapons behind the wall. Scared of Roman using them because he did strike me as the type to use them. I deliberated getting the hell out of there but I was glad I didn't have to go to different men, glad that Roman presented a routine I was getting comfortable with.
But unfortunately my six weeks were up and now I would go back to new clients every night, drugging said clients and most unfortunate of all was that I wouldn't see Roman again after tonight and not sleeping next to him was not a comforting thought.
I eyed a framed photo and chuckled. At first the sound was barely audible, but as the seconds ticked by and I threw three more glances at the picture my chuckle became a full-blown laughing fit.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked, staring at the way my eyes glistened with tears. "Now that sounds like something I'd like to hear more about."
I bolted upright, I was so used to silence that I'd almost forgotten that Roman was there, his voice was deep. The way he was looking at me disrupted my heart beat.
"Who is that fatty?" I asked between giggles. "He loves chocolate too. His cheeks are huge. Is it your son?"
There was a slight pause before he said, "No."
"But he looks so much like you. He has your beautiful eyes — oh god. I mean your eyes aren't beautiful. Oh no... I mean your eyes are beautiful but not in that way..." I sighed, my cheeks heating up. I hesitated. "I'm not flirting with you or anything, not that you're not my type, but I, what the hell Nuru, get your act straight. I —" I was appalled.
"Don't worry about it," he said, involuntary leaning towards me. His eyes were sympatric but no less hypnotizing. "It happens to the best of us. That's me."
"No way!" I had wide eyes. "You're sexy now — okay, you know what, I'm actually going to shut up now. I mess up every time I try to talk."
He was staring at me incredulously. "It's clear you're one to speak your mind." He leaned closer and a great swell of his heartwarming scent washed over me. "A loner, not much of a liar either."
I gulped. My heart was racing. "Stop that, it's creepy."
"You're sure not a complicated girl at all."
I flushed. "Er... thanks?"