2019-12-07 - Cornered

Lilith wakes up, makes sure the shop and old-man-stories is in order for the day, promises him she'll answer any appraisal texts that he sends, and that she'll be back to let him go that evening. If not, he's allowed to lock up early for the sake of going home and having a full night off. She's in a delightful mood, she's getting some air out of town, she's looking forward to the drive, and at some point early in the morning, her phone stopped alerting with texts and calls from an unknown number. Byron will be home when she gets home, so that's nice, but he might be tired and it might be the next day before they actually get to talk or see each other outside of her crawling into bed with him, depending on how much of an all day affair this turns into.

Tacoma is really only an hour and a half away, it's not quite the Seattle haul, but there's holiday traffic, there's all the issue with finding the stores she wants and the parking spaces and all the things that usually annoy her about going out shopping. Today, though, the drive goes smoothly. Her phone is quiet, the radio is playing a lot of her favorite old songs from the 70s with the dial on the correct Sirius setting and she keeps finding really good parking spots every time she moves shopping locales after arrival. With Gray Harbor in the backdrop and worries pushed aside, she really feels the holiday shopping spirit in her today and it feels really nice.

The pressure of power kicking around inside her waiting to get out, that's gone here, and though she doesn't wittingly realize that's the release of tension in her body being outside of hometown, she notices she's feeling so good physically to match her mood. She has her gun in her purse, just in case things go wrong, but honestly, given how well the day is going, it's good. She's even smart and tactical enough with those good parking spots to make trunk trips for dropoffs so she's not weighted by carrying a million things around department stores and malls.

Lilith gets worn out at some point, and hungry, so she decides to stop at a nice cafe Italiano for a late lunch while she's out. She's one of those people that has absolutely no problem asking for a table for one with the hostess, and even though things are going swimmingly, she does make sure she has her purse with her gun and scans the parking lot for any overly ritzy vehicles before deciding on the place.

She's in a good mood, she's feeling like everything is fine, but as she promised Byron, she'd still be watchful. She orders some pasta and wine, she eats, then she gets up to round through the restaurant to go to the bathroom. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's thinking she's spent far too long in Tacoma while distracted and having a good time with the holiday spirit and shopping and solo expedition. Lilith really shouldn't press her luck in case she's still being tracked, and she should go home soon. But she's thinking about a men's boutique downtown that she saw while driving by and she thinks it'd be... also there's a jewelry store near there. And a women's boutique that had something she feels like Erin would wear because she has those damn legs. Maybe those are worth a look too.

It's quiet in the bathroom, one of those two stall jobs, not the big bathrooms of chain restaurants. There's even a lock on the door from the inside, but Lilith thinks it'd be a little rude to take up the whole bathroom for herself on principle just because there's a lock. There are two stalls, afterall. After doing her business, she goes to wash her hands and looks at herself in the mirror, purse on the sink counter for rifling so she can refresh her lip gloss.

The door opens and closes to lock while Lilith is getting lipgloss to start putting on in the mirror, and abruptly, she notices at the very least that it's not another woman coming in, but a man with dark hair in a suit. She doesn't think to grab her gun because she's in the ladies room, another lady could be walking in, and by the time she notices who she's locked in alone with, it's maybe a little too late because he's swiftly advancing on her, overpowering with size and solidity and his dark eyes are a fury she's only seen hints and tastes of in the past.

Recoiling back with steps against the wall, she snatches to drag the purse strap along the counter with her, trying to spill the contents out into a more accessible state. The gun's handle is visible but the entirety of the piece doesn't fall out for her to quick grab in the moment, "What in the hell are you..."

Grant Turner is a very tall, solid, and handsome bastard in that suit, despite the very rich and affected air he generally gives off. Lilith happens to know his strength first hand and personally, unfortunately, even before this and she knows he has a personal boxing coach for aggression relief and he's a daily lap swimmer, so those arms... they're the first thing she goes to dodge once she notices he's going to pin her to the wall with slam as a first instinct and point of holding her away from her gun he no doubt knows she carries.

In fact, she's so uncannily fast about it, she goes to kick him with fiesty removal of herself from the wall area while immediately going with grab for the sink and her purse, but his hand is at her wrist after a grunt of noise. And face it, she's not very strong, no matter how many times over she can destroy a whole lot of everything when in Gray Harbor. Her instincts are a little different here. And she doesn't get a hold of that gun. Instead, his grip on her wrist squeezes down with bruising pressure before he slingshots her at the wall and points a warning finger at her to shut her up and keep her still.

"Go for that gun again and I will bankrupt your pretty boyfriend right back into the poorhouse. I don't want to hurt you, but you make me hurt you. Don't move, don't scream, don't do anything. Just listen to me. Understand?"

Lilith hits the wall and sticks to it, seething and staring at Grant Turner there in his lovely tailored suit, looking handsome and... deadly. Oh god, Byron was right, she hasn't taken this seriously enough, she knew he was unhinged, but something in the man's eyes now is sheer violence and threat. And being who the man is, he's damn well capable of taking on the world to make good with those threats because money in excess truly makes the world go 'round.

Lilith gets a flash of blood rolling over her bottom lip, tastes it, wants to lash out and cause it again, like the last time they were alone together.

Then very quietly, she says, "I could scream, Grant. It's all I have to do and you know this doesn't precisely look to be in your favor, locked in the ladies room with me. But I'm not going to scream. I'm not going to go for my gun. I'm just going to leave before this turns into something we both regret. You know that's best for--"

"Shut the fuck up. Shut up, Lilith."

Lilith shuts up. It's the first real time he's used her actual name instead of an endearment and she trust he'd drain Byron's accounts or freeze them in some way with the IRS or something if she pushes him. So instead of worrying about her own well-being... she listens there against the wall. Grant Turner steps forward and drops his head to smell the top of her hair, "At first... I thought this was just a small infatuation, you and me. My therapist says I tend to fixate on what I don't have because of the excess I do have, among other reasons. But then it grew and grew and you fed it, you dark little angel. You know you did. Do I look like a man who takes well to being toyed with?"

Lilith opens her mouth as if to say something else to Grant Turner's words or accusation, perhaps to counter or even balm the moment, trapped like she is with press against the wall. She even lets his head drop and feels the inhale of his breath at her hair while he's speaking and breathing her scent in, swallowing thickly as she's taken with an unwitting shiver he's no doubt going to misinterpret in that mad mind of his. And he does. When it happens, he shushes her again, reminds her of the consequences, rubs a hand down over the outside of one of her arms, "Shhh. I'm not done talking. I'll break everything he's made, I will. You stubborn, beautiful creature. I know you want to argue and say everything is my fault. But look at how your body is responding when I'm close to you. Isn't it just like old times?"

"I'm the one taking care of you, not him. Your account never should have had a negative balance, and yes, I'm aware you've money in savings still, but you're trying not to move it and spend it because it's the last of what you have, isn't it? So many hospital trips, a funeral, a car wreck, a new car, the business, you pull to manage it from your personal funds, don't you? I can tell by the transfer history. Is it about pride? Is it about who you owe? No matter. I took care of it. I really don't understand why you're so intent on struggle, my dear, but then again... maybe I have an idea of exactly why you like struggle."

The dark-haired suited man stops his caress of her arm and suddenly lashes his arm at the small of her back to bring him into and against him with the pre-empting, "I have a proposition you wouldn't take the time to hear. So I've come to make it in person." His face drops and he kisses at her brow, then over toward the top of her ear while she stands there torn, trying to protect Byron and his assets from revenge. But the kisses are too much, and he's going for her neck now while talking and... she reaches a hand up and cuffs him straight upside the ear and face, "... I am not your whore. You don't get to drop money in my account and then call rights to my body. Take it back. You know the forms and complications involved if I try to transfer that much money, damnit, take it back."

There might have been a subtle exertion of power on Lilith's part to make that cuff upside the head hurt more than it usually might, unwitting as it is here away from Gray Harbor. It's much like what she used to do while in Miami near the Bermuda Triangle while working as a pain dominatrix, and while his head is ringing and Grant Turner recoils to straighten some (though his grip doesn't relent, it tightens with ire). He briefly considers how uncanny it is that every single thing this woman does to him hurts, and he also starts to get aroused by the pain and struggle of it, gradually telltale against her with Lilith held in so fast and tight, despite the cuffing smack.

Lilith is suddenly afraid for Byron given the prior warning, and she stops after that one hit to stand rigid in the man's hold, but she doesn't know what kind of faux pas she actually just made by hitting Grant. She's forgotten he feeds off of violence and temper responses from her, mistakes it for passion, and when the man recovers, he only has a dark and dazzling smile for her that sings of unhinged tumult inside. His dark eyes are wild with fixation on her, "Let me kiss you and I won't tear down his assets for that mistake. I wasn't finished making my proposition and it has nothing to do with the deposit. That was a gift."

Lilith's teeth set on edge and she doesn't know if she can do it, let him lean down and put his lips to hers, even for the sake of Byron. But after swallowing down thickly, she thinks about it differently and decides maybe she can if it keeps him calm and it gives her an in to-- do what, Lilith? Do what? Give him more to misinterpret? No. She starts apologizing and bartering instead in an attempt to keep him talking instead of trying to kiss her or putting her in a position to flat out act up and deny it, voice quiet and still a bit through her teeth at first until even that relents.

"I'm sorry. It was reflex. You know how it was the last time we were alone together. Don't... I'm listening, Grant. If this isn't about the money or you wanting..." Lilith flats her lips and looks down at her body in the dark-haired man's hold, crushed to his designer and tailored suit with the smell of cologne and scotch on him. She goes quiet then to look back up at him warily with a vague cut of her lashes, despite the apology and mild placating. No use overdoing it. He's either going to kiss her or he's not and she's prepared for another fight.

Maybe Turner feels that in her body, maybe he's stopped by her words about it being reflex because of a certain kind of past between them, maybe he just really wants to talk. But there is a moment there where he watches her with those dark eyes, shifts his tight hold on her to let her know he's not keen on letting go, despite the subtle bow of head and pause to nod instead of force on what he believes is an earned kiss, "You're going to have to forgive my need to touch you. I'm horribly jealous, you see. After getting wind of and watching that little sex show you made for him and then with him, I'm afraid I've been incorrigible."

Oh no. That explains the onslaught boldness all around and desperation with the calls and texts, not the money. He probably actually thought he was doing her a favor with the deposit, not responding to that would be expected and wouldn't set him off so badly. Suddenly, all that fury in his eyes and all the threat and madness she feels on him without pretenses makes sense. She's dead quiet and doesn't react beyond a small catch of breath. He waits for her to lash out, maybe wants it, anticipates it, but she doesn't. She waits for him to go on because it is absolutely the safest thing to do right now.

The man continues after a lull of watching her sharply, shifting her captive body against him with subtle rub of reminder that yes, he's the one holding her right now, and thus the one with all the power and the driving reins. Or so he believes, anyway, and wants that impression out there for Lilith to fear. To be honest, it's working better than it ever has in the past considering her position and what she knows is boiling inside him now, the cause of all those threats.

"I admit..." Grant Turner keeps his dark eyes sharp on Lilith despite the genteel nature his speech has taken for the time being while prefacing and making his proposal, "There was some time where I considered a very attractive principle of thought-- If I can't have you, no one can, isn't that how it goes? It'd be so easy to remove him, but oh, that wouldn't do me any favors with you either. And I'm still quite keen on the end game with you. I'd rather not remove you as an option to suit that principle twofold. Seems excessive."

Seems excessive.

"Grant. What do you want? This has to stop."

The dark-haired gentleman sighs and gradually releases Lilith with a slow slip and loosening of his arm that has her pasting herself right back against the wall to stare at him, dreading what comes next. He makes a little click of tongue before continuing, "Don't look at me like that, love. You're full of darkness just like me, and I have no doubt you're at your wits end too." He pauses, "I want what you promised me. I want a chance. I want a day. I want us to try. I want that connection we had back. I made a mistake with you and you took all that away. I thought you were ready... I never meant to hurt you."

"I sent you a dress for the day. To his place, of course, so he can see it too. I imagine you'll want to discuss this and you require some time to think about it. It's understandable."

The man's tone of voice is dripping with so much 'or else' if she denies him, and he clearly feels like he's being generous in giving her time to answer and even confer with Byron. But it's underhanded too, he knows it will cause discord, and it won't be a secret even if she wants it to be a secret by way of him sending that dress to his Penthouse.

But Lilith, she's still trying to find a way out. So she asks a question with genuine confusion, knowing he's a man that considers a handshake or simple assurance to be a binding contract. Why wouldn't someone deliver on what he wants?

"... what promise, Grant?"

"Oh, darling. You really don't remember do you? Tsk. We were on the phone, one of our late nights... neither of us could sleep..." Turner reaches a manicured masculine hand out to touch at some of Lilith's hair on her shoulder, then cups her cheek with palm so she's looking at him, imparting quite seriously, "You told me we could have a second date."

Lilith can't. She just can't. She tastes the blood in her mouth again, the fear, the damaged self-worth, the disappointment, the stupidity in letting herself try and feel anything for someone or something, the rage, the helplessness, all the things she felt that night when he attacked her, when the real Grant came out to play.

"And THEN you tried to tie me up and force yourself on me and you BIT me like a fucking psychopath three fucking days later! I think that counts as default to the agreement, you arrogant, delusional, CRAZY son of a bitch!" She might have bit him first, but that's not the point she's trying to make here and she can't think straight. Byron will NEVER agree to this and what does Grant ACTUALLY hope to accomplish if she accepts? And what will he DO if she doesn't? Her stomach twists and her eyes flit to her purse on the counter unwittingly, because she's fantasizing about killing him suddenly, right in the middle of the ladies' room.

It happens real fast. Lilith is yelling and calling the man names and making a scene that can be heard through the door, her eyes are flitting toward her purse and the gun, and she's calling him crazy.

It's Grant Turner's turn to snap. It's what he's been craving, that fire in her, the fight, the game, but she's causing a scene and he takes that look toward the gun very personally.

His hands lash out for her upper arms with bruising pressure to sling her back against the wall, knocking the back of her head to send the woman gasping with reel. Lilith struggles, she tries to knee upward and he blocks her, pushes and pins her with that grip, then shifts one of his hands to grab down at the flesh of a hip with more roughness and bruising pressure. He's furious, he wants her, it's irrational, it's violent, then he blames her for making him want her. Instead of trying to force himself on her and take her, he lets go of her arm and reels back to slap the hell out of her, which is blocked by her forearm to take the bruising force.

Then it's her wrists, he has both of them because she dared to stop the slap, he's gripping them and shushing her and warning her to shut up or she'll be very sorry and he holds her that way until she's finished struggling and gives up to seethe and puff air and glower at him.

Then, just like that, he leans in, kisses her forehead, then lets go entirely to turn and hastily leave the bathroom while adjusting his suit shirt cuffs, "Think about it. I'll be in touch."

Part of Lilith wants to launch herself at the man's back and scream and make a scene, but she knows he can get out of anything legally. The bigger part of Lilith knows to move and lock the door quickly behind him before going for her gun and her purse to hurriedly repack. Then she locks herself in a stall and tries not to cry while holding the gun and leaning against the stall wall. Eventually, she gets enough composure to let someone in who's been jiggling the door handled and needing the bathroom. But she doesn't do it until she hears the lady's voice on the other side asking, "Hello? Is there somebody in there?"

The gun is also in her hand inside her purse when she crosses the parking lot to her car and peels out to go home. She gets stuck in a traffic jam behind a wreck. And the whole way home while her bruises darken with telltale marks, she just has to go numb.

Lilith thinks about all the presents in the trunk, how good the day was before it wasn't good anymore, and she thinks about what she needs to get from the grocery on the way home to start a late dinner, perhaps.

She might be in shock. But when she passes the Gray Harbor forest limits, she can feel the pent up fear and agitation inside her come to life with flare of power and tension in her chest and five mailboxes on the rural route are uprooted as she passes them by and smashed and shattered into metal or brick heaps.