You Don't Own Me

When Violet awoke again, J wasn't in the room anymore. The sun was up and by the look of it, it was pretty late in the day. She lay on the air mattress for a long time before rising, wondering what the hell she was going to do now. After all, she couldn't exactly go get a job what with being an escaped convict and all.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself, running a hand through her hair and standing to stretch her limbs.

She made her way down the main staircase of the house and as she reached the bottom, there were a handful of men dressed in nice suits wandering around, moving boxes into the house and leaving them all near the front door before going back out to the large truck that she could see parked in the driveway. She wandered into the kitchen and found J sitting at the island. She had to stop and take a second look at him for a moment. He looked so... normal sitting there sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. His signature makeup was fresh and his hair was gently slicked back. He looked up at her after a moment and smiled.

"I had the men bring you a few options for bedroom furniture. You're welcome to pick anything you want," he told her and she raised an eyebrow.

"What... that's for me?" she asked, motioning to the foyer where she could still hear men bringing things in.

"Of course," he told her, and she couldn't help but ask.

"Why are you being so nice to me? For real," she asked, and he shrugged.

"Because you deserve it. Because you don't seem used to it. Because I keep surprising you with it. Because I like to see the look in your eye when it happens," he rattled off, and she just stared at him, surprised.

"I don't... I don't deserve it," she said to him, and he gave her a look that was almost angry.

"You do," he said simply, his voice firm.

"How can you think that?" she asked him, her mind flashing with all the things she'd done.

"There are so many people who have done such worse things than kill a group of men that had abused and probably ruined their children," he said, and she watched as his eyes softened. For a moment the way he was looking at her made her feel like he might be about to kiss her. Her stomach knotted momentarily with nervousness but then the moment passed and he looked away.

She sat silently beside him for a long time, letting his words sink in. She didn't know if he'd succeeded in reassuring her or not; she couldn't quite decide.

Finally, she ended up getting up and wandering back into the foyer where all of the furniture was. She picked out what she liked and J's henchmen helped her take it upstairs and place it where she liked it in her new room.

As she was sitting on the bed in her newly decorated room some time later, there was a knock at the door and J appeared in the doorway. He stepped inside slowly and peered around at how she'd put everything together.

"I have a job for you, if you'd like," he told her, and she could tell that he was holding back on something.

"I'm not a stripper," she told him, knowing full-well what girls he employed normally ended up doing.

"I didn't assume you were, thank you very much," he said, sounding dramatically offended. She almost smiled but then held it back.

"What, then?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"If you're going to be a little shit, then never mind," he said, turning on his heel and making like he was going to walk back down the hall.

"Wait, I'm sorry," she said, and when he turned back around she could see that he was amused.

"It's not pretty or fun work, but I think it would be a good fit for you," he said, and she hesitated.

"Okay..." she trailed off, motioning for him to continue.

"I need someone to back me up when I'm walking my clubs making sure everything is in line. You won't really have to do much, just do the walks with me and have my back if something goes wrong," he explained, and she gave him a confused look.

"Don't you have men who'd be much more suited for that?" she asked, and he was instantly shaking his head.

"No. I don't have any men who have the same... temper as you. That's vital for something like this," he said, and she wasn't sure if she should be offended.

"I don't know if that's a good thing," she admitted, and he flashed her one of his most animal-like smiles.

"It's a good thing, kitten. I love a good temper," he said, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Fine. I'll do it," she agreed, and he was almost giddy.

"Good. We're going to have a lot of fun together. I can feel it," he said, giving her a final look before backing out of the room. "We start tomorrow."