Something

I want to cry. But crying didn't help before and certainly won't help now. "How much?"

"What's that?"

"Later. When I'm no longer your whore, how much will you pay me? Whores usually get paid, right?”

Eric stared at me almost forever, then said, “What do you want?”

“My freedom. But what about a million dollars instead?” The word came out as a question, not a firm request. In fact, he didn't have to give me anything. I have nothing to bargain for. He can take anything he wants.

"A million dollars? That's a bit too much, don't you think?"

"Fuck you."

Eric smiled, the carefree brat. "Forgive me," he scoffed with a solemn bow, "I mean: there's no such thing as a 'little girl'. Even though my 'little girl' is pretty close.”

Now he's trying to stun me again, and if I'm still the naive schoolgirl he met weeks ago, the trick might have worked. But now I'm not her anymore, what a pleasure. I am so strong. Perhaps the calculating, angry, fighting side of me has taken full control, and I