Squeak

First Date II

Jezebel

"I-I want to go home...please. I won't tell anyone. I promise," I pleaded for the umpteenth time as my tears dampened my face. What did I receive in return? A cold, unremorseful glare.

God? We really need to have a chat because what the heck is this!? I said heck. Yep...I'm going to the Hot Place.

"I could watch you cry all day," Erik suddenly said.

Who says that!?

"Do you want to know why?" he asked as he leaned across the table. I scooted as far away from him as possible and furiously shook my head. "Too bad. I'm going to tell you anyway. You're beautiful when you cry."

I was temporarily stunned by his...compliment. My low self-esteem wanted to hear him repeat it because no guy had ever called me beautiful, including my father, but my common sense told me this Child of God was unwell and needed divine intervention.

"You're supposed to say thank you when someone gives you a compliment, Squeak."

"Th-thank you," I whispered, not taking my eyes off the mountainous BLT surrounded by crispy fries. Silence enveloped us as I wiped away my tears.

"Squeak–"

"Jezebel," I softly corrected.

"I'll call you Jezebel when you learn to love your name. Until then, I'll call you Squeak."

"Why do you care if I love my name or not?"

Erik laced his fingers together, drawing my attention to the rings on his fingers. I was particularly fascinated with the skull one.

"Take a few bites out of your sandwich, and I'll answer your question."

I didn't hesitate to yank the toothpick from the neatly cut sandwich. I was starving, but my earlier meltdown from being kidnapped, or, as Erik would say, abducted, had taken precedence. I held back a groan of satisfaction after taking my first bite. I viciously chewed as I reached for a handful of fries. They were barely warm but passable. I wouldn't dare complain. I didn't know Erik at all, but I could picture him saying that my fries would be hot if I hadn't spent so much time crying.

"Good?"

I nodded and reached for the pickle spear. My eyes widened in surprise when Erik dropped his pickle onto my plate. I swallowed what was in my mouth before addressing him.

"You don't want it?" I softly asked.

"I know they say there are no stupid questions, but that was a stupid fucking question. If I wanted it, I wouldn't have given it to you," Erik drawled in annoyance. I couldn't help it. I started crying again. I'd been abducted, and Erik left me in a constant state of confusion.

One moment he's sticking up for me, and we're discussing my favorite movie, and the next minute he's threatening to shoot me in the back and abducts me. He feeds me and then belittles me. I would be at home if I wanted to be fed and degraded.

"Why are you crying now?" Erik sighed as he relaxed against the red leather of the booth.

"C-can you just...not talk to me?"

"I can, but I won't. We have much to discuss. You asked me why I care if you love your name. A name can hold a lot of weight and bring about certain privileges. In the legal sense, your name can be your 'get out of jail free' card. I can see the skepticism on your face. One day, you'll understand when you have the King last name."

God...I need an adult.

"That will never happen."

"What won't happen?"