Author's Note:
Taff Taff Revolution -- I think I can see what you mean re: links to Gangster No. 1 -- I just recently saw that film (loved it!) and perhaps elements of Paul's character have crept in. Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter :)
Apologies all for the long delay on the update. Next one will be sooner, now that I'm over the writer's block hump.
Some of you might have noticed that I've started posting a rewrite of this fic under the title "A Caged Bird" -- I will continue to update this version until it's done, I'm just an impatient writer, and want to get on with the next draft!
Happy reading :) TAS x
*
"We need to have a little talk, Margaux."
She scrambled into a seated position and moved back until she was sitting against the furthest wall. In this room, that still wasn't very far away.
"I'm sorry, I--I--"
"I may not be a nice man, but I am a reasonable one. This morning wasn't entirely your fault." He sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped his hands. "But since Robert has decided that he's an authority unto himself, I need to be certain you understand the situation." He looked at her, then pointed at a spot on the floor next to his right foot. "Come here." She moved onto her knees to stand, and he shook his head. "No, Margaux. Crawl."
Margaux regarded the man with uncertainty.
"I'm not a patient man. Get a move on."
After a moment, she leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the thin carpet, and started to crawl. The distance between them was only short, but she didn't dare to take her eyes from him for even a second. He held her gaze, his mouth turning up at the corner.
"Good. Sit down."
She did, and he placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle push so that her head rested against his knee. Margaux clasped her hands in her lap and tried not to think about it.
He stroked her hair absently, setting her heart pounding. "Who do you think is in charge here?"
"...You."
"So when you receive two contrasting orders, whose do you listen to?"
"I thought he'd hurt me, i-if I said no." This wasn't like her; making excuses, weeping like a frightened child, obsessing over the potential consequences of everything she did. She hated the person she was being forced to become.
"Oh, Margaux." His fingers wound through her hair, and her scalp prickled. "Whatever he threatens you with is nothing, compared to what I'll do to you if you disobey me again." His hand moved down, and he brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Understand?" She nodded. It was a threat she could believe -- Robert was capable of raw violence, but Bill was the type that got creative. "Good." He patted her cheek, and she flinched. "As for going outside..."
Margaux tried to respond, and found that she couldn't. She felt as though she might faint. Somehow this strange affection was worse than the violence.
"You want to keep going out, don't you?"
She nodded mutely.
"You understand that it's a risk?" She gave a forlorn nod. "But perhaps we can make it work." She looked up at him. "If you behave. If you do as you're told. Can you do that?"
"Yes." Her voice sounded hoarse and shaky.
"You're sure?"
Margaux nodded emphatically.
"Good." He stood abruptly, and his knee bumped her jaw. "Then everything will work out just fine." He went to the door and opened it. Margaux moved to stand. Bill looked back into the room. "Don't disappoint me, Margaux." His gaze bore into her, and she froze under its intensity.
"I won't."
He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
*
She had to make amends somehow. That much Margaux knew.
Something in Bill's manner had changed for the worst -- she was seeing a dangerous side of him, one that might decide to do anything on the slightest whim. Somehow she had to dissipate the anger that was bubbling beneath the surface. But then, what exactly could she do? She had few resources available, to say the least. What could she do except demonstrate her ability to 'behave'?
Her imagination reeled with the possibilities of what he might expect of her, and she could barely suppress a shudder.
No, she couldn't have that attitude.
She had to show fortitude in the face of adversity -- whatever he wanted, it was a small price to pay for her continued survival.
She would have to pander to his desire for control, put him at ease, and maybe... maybe if she could convince him of her obedience, she might get another chance to escape.
*
Margaux stood in the doorway and cleared her throat. Bill looked up from the magazine in his lap with an irritable expression. Where had he got
that?
"Peace offering?" She stepped into the room, holding out a mug of tea. He looked at her with mild surprise.
Start small, that was the plan.
"Thanks." Bill took the cup, and Margaux sat down. She wondered briefly whether she should have asked permission, but it was a bit late to worry about that now.
Where was Robert? She hadn't seen him in the kitchen, nor heard him around the cottage. His was probably not a good name to bring up at this precise moment, however, so she didn't ask. She was certain to run into him sooner or later, whether she wanted to or not.
Bill raised the cup to his lips, then stopped, staring at her. She looked back, waiting for him to speak.
"I want to see you drink this first," he said at last, placing the mug on the seat between them.
"Why?"
"Just do it."
She picked up the cup. "It's too hot to drink."
"
Margaux..." His tone was dangerously close to a growl.
"Alright. Christ."
She took a sip of the scalding liquid and winced. He stared at her for a few moments more, then took the mug from her shaking hands and placed it on the side table.
"Thank you."
"I wouldn't try to poison you," she muttered sullenly, rubbing her burnt tongue on the roof of her mouth. Margaux drew her legs up in front of her and rested her chin on her knee.
"You have a strong motivation for doing so, wouldn't you agree?"
She frowned.
"Even if I killed you, I'd still have Robert to deal with."
His jaw muscles tightened, and she realised too late what she'd said. They stared at each other.
"Yes, well, I'll grant you that." He sat back with his knees wide -- that typically male posture of casual dominance -- and rested his hands on his thighs.
"You've been... very kind so far." That statement felt a little too much like insincere toadying, but he seemed to accept it.
"Kinder than you have any right to expect, I'm sure you agree."
"I-I do."
"Then come here." He laid his arm across the back of the sofa and curled his fingers in a beckoning gesture. She looked at him reproachfully. "Come on." She shook her head, averse to the prospect of such close proximity, even as she recalled her previous resolve to do as she was told. "Margaux, this is a test, and you're failing it."
She bit her lip. He was right, of course. It wasn't much good making promises she wouldn't keep. She moved a negligible distance closer.
"
Margaux, I'm going to give you ten seconds to rethink that decision."
She shifted closer, until she could feel his body heat, and hugged herself defensively. He dropped his arm across her shoulders.
"Isn't that better?"
Margaux didn't respond.
