Let it out {vice

[Vice Ingram]

To Vice, it seemed that time had come to a stand-still. His thoughts were no longer flashing painfully through his brain, and all the tension of the weeks before had come to a soothing stillness he felt he never wanted to end. As he stared down at Ayala, the truthfulness of his words began to sink in, and he felt their warmth moving over him, embracing both of them as they stood there in the quiet.

"I...love you, too..."

He didn't take his eyes from her face, and although her words trailed off uncertainly, he knew that she meant them. She hadn't been expecting this from him. He made no movement toward her, but watched silently as she raised a hand and brought it near his cheek. The pain of the gesture was plainly visible on her face, and Isaac felt his own body tense in response. But then the cool, light touch came, the one he had never hoped to feel again, and he felt his muscles loosen, his jaw go slack. He leaned slightly into her hand before she let it drop, savoring what he thought he had lost.

Her fingers found his easily, and although her eyes moved downward, he kept his gaze fixed steadily on the girl in front of him, wondering if she could possibly be real. But she wasn't a figment of his imagination, wasn't even a memory. The small, slender fingers that entwined themselves with his were completely tangible. Her gaze returned.

"I missed you."

For a moment, he said nothing. He had said the most that he could say to her, and it seemed every other word that entered his mind was insufficient, bland. He licked his lips and bent his head close to hers, lifting his free hand to trace her jawline lightly, barely allowing himself to touch her.

"Mhmm," he murmured, parting his lips only slightly. His voice seemed too loud, and he lowered it, nearly whispering. "Can you tell me what to say? I don't think I can think while you're here. I can't even think when you're not..."

[Delilah]

Delilah felt butterflies in her stomach as vice's fingers lightly traced along her jawline. She smiled briefly. She'd missed that feeling. His face was so close to hers that she didnt even have to try to catch his eyes, they were eye to eye without her even trying.

"Mhmm, Can you tell me what to say? I don't think I can think while you're here. I can't even think when you're not..."

Ayalas eyes fluttered closed as she gave a small chuckle. "oh issac" she said as her eyes opened. "i'm not doing much better" she smiled and laughed again. Their faces were so close that she couldn't help but gently place her lips against his cheek for a fraction of a second. He just looked so confused and she wanted to comfort him. Her fingers twitched gently against his "you could ask me to stay." she said smiling decidedly.

A thought crossed her mind as she remembered how far that had gotten her when she asked him to stay last time. Quickly she stuffed that feeling away, she didn't want him to get any hints that she'd even thought anything like what she had. She gently raised their hands that were intertwined and looked at his hand in hers. She liked the feeling of their fingers laced together but the action caused her to wince as she was forced to remember how the kid from before had solidly kicked her in the ribs. She looked at him apologetically as her fingers left his so she could reach down tand pull her shirt up a tiny bit to assess the damage.

It didn't need to be raised more than a few inches before the bruises were visible and she felt the pain near her ribs. She cursed under her breath and her frightened gaze returned to his. "kid packed a powerful kick." She said as she smiled a little awkwardly trying to shrug off the pain.

[Vice Ingram]

Ayala smiled, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second, as Isaac felt his the corner of his mouth pull up once again into a sideways grin, his eyes still on her when she opened them.

"Oh, Isaac...I'm not doing much better."

He nodded slightly, but felt her lips suddenly on his cheek and stilled, becoming aware again of her hand in his.

"You could ask me to stay."

Isaac pulled back slightly, a bit taken aback by her choice of words. He studied her face for any indication of sarcasm, his insides tightening suddenly in cold fear. Had she meant the words she'd just said? Or was this some cruel scheme she'd devised to repay him? He'd known his chances of winning her back were sketchy, but the thought of revenge hadn't occurred to him. Her beaming face did nothing to ease his anxiety, and Isaac found his eyes beginning to roam with his mind. The triumphant warmth he'd felt just moments before had now been replaced with icy tension, and he felt himself shiver as new meaning began to sink in.

Her hand raised, bringing his along with it, and he moved his eyes back to hers to find that she was no longer looking at him, but at their entwined hands. If this was some kind of act, she should stop now; he wasn't sure he could handle much more than he'd already been through. Granted, that had been the result of his own selfish pride, but perhaps he shouldn't have shown his feelings so plainly just now. He melted at her touch, loved it more than anything he'd ever experienced, and the thought of losing her again, realizing that her apparent affection was, in fact, false, was scalding.

And then her fingers left his. Isaac was surprised to see the apologetic glance she gave before she quickly looked down. Not that he didn't feel the same, but it was more than he had expected given his present suspicions. His eyes followed hers as she moved to lift her shirt slightly, clearly anxious to discover just how much harm had been done. Isaac grimaced. The darkening hue of her skin didn't look at all promising, and he bit his lip nervously, waiting for her gaze to return to his, waiting to see what he would find. When her green eyes finally lifted, their spark seemed anxious, her small smile forced.

"Kid packed a powerful kick."

"Mm. Yeah." He knew he should say more, but the fear that clutched tightly to him prevented his mind from moving at any decent pace. At the same time, if she was seriously injured, he knew he could never forgive himself if something happened. From the looks of her bruises, he needed to do something whether or not she was playing games.

Reaching out tentatively, his fingers found the hem of her shirt, his body moved closer to hers. He raised his eyes questioningly, making sure he wasn't about to violate any form of her privacy, "Do you mind if I...?"

His voice trailed off uncertainly as he raised her shirt hem a few inches, not waiting for a reply. The skin underneath was bruised and dark. He brushed his fingers gently over the surface, moving his hand up slightly as he glanced back at her to make certain he had her permission. The side of her body was swollen, and Isaac dared not apply pressure, knowing that the lightness in his touch now was already more than likely excruciating. Instead, he let his hand slide gently down her side, dropped her shirt hem, and straightened, bringing his eyes back to her face.

[Delilah]

"Mm. Yeah."

Ayala watched as he reached out towards her shirt. She could have stopped him if she'd wanted too, she knew that. She stood completely still as his fingers touched her shirt. She didn't even breathe.

"Do you mind if I...?"

She wasn't looking so she didn't see his eyes look up at her and if she had she probably wouldn't have had an answer. Her body was as still as it could be, as if she was a statue carved out of stone. His fingers moved her shirt up and she breathed in slightly. It was weird how much one night could change everything. Just one night...

She bit her lip gently as self consciousness settled in. His fingers brushed her skin and she noticed how his pale fingers contrasted her bruised skin. Her skin had turned an ugly purple-black color and it defintely was not flattering. She wasn't sure how to tell if a rib was broken but it did hurt, though not as badly as it looked. It had calmed down a but since the initial contact between foot and torso and she could handle it.

His hand moved up a little as he looked at her again and she smiled shyly at him, still biting her lip. His look was slightly questioning and realizing that she'd never really given him and answer she nodded her head slightly. His hand slid gently down her side as he dropped them hem of her shirt and she closed her eyes. "Isaac.." she said quietly. When his skin left hers she opened her eyes to face him as he straightened back up.

"i..." She cut off and automatically bit her lip again as confusion overwhelmed her. Her eyes flashed back as she looked at his eyes and she wanted to say so much but wasn't sure how. They'd already said that they loved each other but there was so much more she'd wanted to say. About that night, about the time since then, about now. She wanted so much but she couldn't collect her thoughts.

Confusion. Ugh. She couldn't take it. Her hand reached out towards his shoulder and she gently brushed her fingers against his neck. "Can I..?" She said as she hooked her fingers gently in his hair.

She didn't wait for a reply, her brain shut down and she stopped caring just for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for her body to gently pull him down as she pushed herself up a bit on her toes. Just long enough to bring his face to hers. Just long enough to press her lips to his. Just long enough...

She didn't care, she really didn't. Not now. This was what she wanted and if he wasn't going to stop her then she wouldn't be stopped.

And then her brain snapped back on. Her fingers loosened and her toes refused to support her as she crashed back onto her heels. "oh" she said, her eyes wide, as her hand went to her mouth. She looked at him apologetically and her fear resurfaced. She tried to get together an apology but the words wouldn't form and she ended up spitting out a jumble of words. Realizing that she hadn't made any sense, she immediately covered her mouth again. "oh no" she whispered through her hand and closed her eyes in a defeated way, afraid of his reaction.

[Vice Ingram]

He stood tall, unmoving, as he watched her expectantly. The last thing he'd wanted to do was offend her, and although he was fairly certain she'd meant what she had said, he was still wary. Women were catty, and the gesture he'd just made could easily be turned against him if she decided she was angry enough to hunt down authorities. Isaac almost shuddered at the thought. It seemed to him that she ought to have spoken by now, but as soon as the thought came, her eyes fluttered open, wide and green, and Isaac found it impossible to look away.

"I..."

He hadn't expected a full reply, and found as her voice died quickly away that words were escaping him as well, for reasons he wasn't sure why. She was biting her lip now, and he remembered how tempting she had seemed that first night. Doing exactly that. And while she was just as tempting even now, somehow he was in control this time. Somehow, something had changed. He longed for her in a different way, did not stare greedily, but with adoring eyes.

Suddenly, he was snapped out of his musings as Ayala moved closer, reached toward him. The hair on his neck stiffened, his skin tingled as he felt the light touch of her fingers, felt them massage his neck, entwine themselves in his white-blond hair as his pulse began to quicken.

"Can I...?"

These last words were murmured, and in an instant, he felt her pulling him down, felt her breath near his face, her lips frantically rushing to meet his as he struggled to keep his grip on reality. It wasn't fair, it really wasn't fair having to attempt control at a time like this, when her lips moved so passionately and so desperately, and all he wanted was to kiss her even more passionately and desperately. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, and then all at once, it was over. Over, and those wide green eyes were staring up at him again. Frightened.

She'd said something, but Isaac was too dazed to even make half sense of the sounds her lips made. He hadn't wanted her to do that, not yet. Her lips had been the last to touch his mouth that night weeks ago, and though hers would be the next, he'd wanted to savor something more. He'd had kisses before, but never before had he felt what he felt with her apart from that. He had enjoyed that just now, and couldn't help but feel a tad grateful for her impatience, trying to him as it had been.

Attempting to ease the anxiety that was plainly written on her face, Isaac drew himself up to his full height, smoothed her hair with his strong hands, and then laughed softly. "Yali, haven't you kissed me enough?"

He knew the disappointment must be etched in his face, but smiled anyway, letting his gaze drift toward the door from whence he'd come. His eyes stopped. They flitted back to Ayala, back to the door, and his blood ran cold. There, fidgeting anxiously in the doorway, were three smirking young boys.

[Delilah]

oh crap oh crap oh crap. what had she done?
Delilah opened one eye tentatively as his hand smoothed her hair out. He'd chuckled... so he wasn't angry. That was good. Ayala's stance loosened a bit as the anxious tension she had felt moments earlier faded.

"Yali, haven't you kissed me enough?"

Ayala blushed and swiftly freed her hair from where it had been tucked behind her ear. The hair fell forward in a curtain for her to hide behind. Long hair had it's advantages. She glanced up at him from behind her hair and her eye brows knitted together while a worried look came over her. He had laughed but he didn't look so happy right now... He didn't look angry exactly, just.... disappointed?

She sighed. She could never get anything right. She was pretty sure that she was coherent again and was about to apologize when vice's gaze held on the door. His expression had changed in a fraction of a second and what she saw on his face made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It made her nervous... Something wasn't right.

She looked over quickly to see what could cause such a reaction and saw three boys standing in the doorway, smirks plastered on their faces. She quickly tucked her hair back behind her ear so that she could see better. The smallest one had the widest smirk and after a second or two he proved to have good lungs as he let loose a loud whistle. The other two boys followed suit with a series of catcalls and whooping.

"you haven't kissed me enough!" one of the kids said tauntingly as ayala turned to look at vice. What the heck was going on? "hey girly, if he don't wantcha i'll take ya" Ayala shifted uncomfortably her gaze turning to the floor.
The kids laughed and one of them elbowed the one who'd made the last comment in the side and said "you don't gotta wait long, he nevah keeps 'em foah too long." Ayala's head snapped up and she looked at them. What?

Her head snapped to the side so she was looking at vice, hurt clearly etched across her face. "What?" she said echoing her thoughts. Her voice, meant to sound harsh came out scratchy, uncertain, and hurt. She took a step backwards.

They're just kids right? just kids. I bet their just saying that. She thought trying desperately to think of some way to save vice's credibility. She didn't want to believe that everything that he'd said had been a lie. She didn't.

The kids meanwhile hadn't noticed the change in the room and went on with their childish remarks. "yeah like that last one, what was it like three days?" one laughed. The answering remark came, "Yeah hah or the one before that! that had to be a world record or somethin, like two hours?"

Confusion mixed in with the pain shown plainly on her face as a few small tears fell silently down her face to hit the ground. These kids lived here and so did he... they would know wouldn't they? They definitely knew him more than she did but still, she felt like she'd know him. She'd trusted him and for some reason, she was still here. For some reason, she hadn't punched him and left with her things. For some reason, she was standing there waiting for a response. For some reason, she still trusted him.

[Vice Ingram]

His gaze still fixed on the doorway, Isaac let his hands drop unwillingly from Ayala's hair, felt the last of its softness slip through his shaking fingers as he turned sharply to face his unwanted company. He ran a tongue across his teeth, shook the hair out of his eyes, and involuntarily clenched a fist, feeling the rippling muscles of his forearm flex. Oh, those idiot kids. Those damn idiot kids. If they'd been in for it before, they sure as hell were going to get it now.

They seemed to find his reaction hilarious, and even as the whooping and snickering subsided, the jeering didn't. The eldest settled himself against the doorway, an amused expression on his dirty face, and the others leaned in to watch the fun, poking and nudging one another in between fits of laughter.

"You haven't kissed me enough!"

"Hey girly, if he don't wantcha, I'll take ya!"

"You don't gotta wait long, he nevah keeps 'em fo' too long..."

Isaac drew a sharp breath. Damn it. He cast a vengeful glance at the tallest, from whom the last comment had come, his eyes boring icily into the boy's. Remind me to kill you.
He could, too, could do it easily. Vice knew he was strong, incomparable to the boys that stood before him now, but never had the actual consideration seemed so tempting. He shuddered, his dark eyes snapped.

"What?"

The next voice was different, was the one he'd been hoping with all his strength he wouldn't hear. But there it was, and he had no choice but to turn back to her, to meet her stricken gaze. His heart throbbed, his head throbbed, and his muscles throbbed as she moved away from him. He wanted more than anything to reach out to her, to stroke her hair again, pull her back to him, but all he could see were those green eyes, confused and hurt. He'd already caused her physical pain, the first time they'd met, and all he could bring her now was more pain. Was that all he was good for?

"Yeah, like that last one. What was it, like, three days?"

"Yeah, ha! Or the one before that. That had to be a world record or somethin', like two hours!"

As the boys burst into peals of laughter, something inside Isaac snapped. Reality came crashing down around him, burying him, and there was nothing he could do to escape the suffocation. Their laughter rang in his ears, their words resounding tortuously as he stepped silently across the room, thrusting his face next to Scamp's. "Yeah, it was two hours. Two hours, and I paid for her."

The younger one to Scamp's left looked up at him, shrunk back fearfully. "Aw, Vice, you ain't gotta get riled up. We don't mean nothin' by it."

But Vice wasn't done. He turned to the boy speaking now, wrenched him up by his collar, and eyed him angrily. "Well, I guess you should o' thought of that before, shouldn't you? I paid for my two hours, and you know damn straight she meant nothin'! She walked in here a whore, and she walked out o' here a whore."

Scamp laughed softly, crossed his arms. "And you expect her to be different? They're all the same, Vice, and you out o' anyone oughta know." He snorted. "Besides, she ain't gonna want a man what touches other women."

Isaac swallowed hard.

[Delilah]

"Yeah, it was two hours. Two hours, and I paid for her."

"Aw, Vice, you ain't gotta get riled up. We don't mean nothin' by it."

"Well, I guess you should o' thought of that before, shouldn't you? I paid for my two hours, and you know damn straight she meant nothin'! She walked in here a whore, and she walked out o' here a whore."

"And you expect her to be different? They're all the same, Vice, and you out o' anyone oughta know. Besides, she ain't gonna want a man what touches other women."

Ayala followed the conversation but just barely. So she'd been used, or so it seemed. Well it wasn't like that had never happened before, She just couldnt believe that she'd said she'd loved him...

Her mind wandered back to their conversation over the day and something struck her. She remembered his stances, his expressions, everything.... They had been different. Before the kid had left, after the kid had left, after they'd spoken a few words. He'd changed, like he had been made of ice but the ice had melted in her presence.

She wanted to believe this. She wanted to believe that maybe she wasn't just some whore to him. She wanted to believe that maybe when he'd said those words, he had really meant it.

But like the kid had said, what was to make her any different.

One night. That was all it had been. How could one night mean anything? She was stupid to think it had.

[Vice Ingram]

He stared back at Scamp, still clutching the younger boy in his anger. Ain't gonna...want a man...touches other women. The words ripped through his brain, shredding every last hope he'd dared to build during the past hour, tearing his sanity to pieces. His eyes stung, and he jerked his head slightly, letting his hair fall across them, still knowing he'd have to do more than hide. Scamp's words were sinking in now, burning like acid as they seeped through the involuntary defenders that tried to deny them, tried to shrug off their meaning as if what Scamp had said were a blatant lie. But Vice knew. Oh, he knew. He knew as he stood there, flushed and helpless, how many women there'd been, how many he'd kissed, how many he'd cradled, how many to whom he'd spoken those same three words. He knew and he hated it, hated himself.

Casting a dark glance at the boy he still held, Isaac dropped him roughly, feeling with satisfaction the thud of the boy's body against the ground. Then, turning aggressively back to face Scamp, he looked down, examined his strong hands. He had touched women with these hands, and he wasn't going to deny it. Scamp was right. But Isaac knew that these hands had also touched Ayala's face, had stroked Ayala's hair, and that they would now brush Ayala's lips and no one else's. He flexed his fingers.

Scamp was still smirking, a trace of laughter in his taunting eyes as Isaac brought his gaze back to his. They locked eyes for a fraction of a second, and then, mustering all the strength he had left in his body, Vice pulled back a fist and sent it smashing at the boy in front of him, savoring an even greater satisfaction as he felt the sickening crunch of his knuckles connect with Scamp's jaw. As Scamp stumbled back, dazed and struck, Vice moved forward threateningly.

"I don't think I'm done yet."

[Delilah]

Ayala realized she was crying and wiped the tears away. Her arms instinctively wrapped themselves around her as she watched the scene in front of her.

His hair was in his eyes so she couldn't see half of his face but there was something there... something that she needed to see.

The kid fell to the ground with a thud. Vice was looking at his hands and as she studied his movements and expressions she knew that the kids had not been lying. She knew that every thing that they had said had been true, but there was something more.

Something about him made her want to step forward, grab his hand, and take him far away from those kids but she knew she couldn't. She hated to see him in agony, but maybe he deserved it.

crunch

Ayala gasped and rushed forward to catch the kid as he stumbled back. Her muscles hurt under the strain of holding Scamp up so she began moving him towards a chair.

"I don't think I'm done yet.

"I think you are." She said coldly as she placed Scamp on a chair and stood next to him. She turned to the other two. "Get a wet towel. Quick" she said, her voice strong, all traces of the hurt and frustration from before gone. She had to make sure this kid was okay and that was her job. That was her focus.

One of the kids stayed in the doorway while the other brought her the towel, and then they both scampered off as quickly as they could. She quickly put the towel against his jaw and hit him over the head when he winced about it. Wimp. She'd been putting up with her side all day so why couldnt he?

Scamp took the towel from her and when she turned to glare up at vice he took off quickly out the door. She didn't try to stop him and in fact she blocked the doorway to vice couldn't follow him.

She wanted to get to the point. "So, Am I just another whore to you?" She asked coldly. She was in no mood for games.

[Vice Ingram]

As Vice felt the warmth of blood begin to trickle down his forearm, his pulse raced, his dark eyes flashed. His throat burned and his knuckles ached, but he stared icily at Scamp, waiting for him to make a move. That last swing had felt good, too good, and Vice wanted more. He wanted to pummel that bastard until he spit blood, wanted to smash that ugly, smirking face to a pulp. And he knew Scamp, he'd get his fight.

No punch came.

The adrenaline that had raged through his veins just seconds before was now slowing, and his breaths were coming more easily. What the hell was Scamp playing at? His vision was blurred, making it difficult to tell just where Scamp stood, and as Vice searched the fading room before him, he realized that the boy was no longer facing him. Suddenly shocked, Vice focused his gaze on a flash of movement. What the...? His words still rang seemingly aloud, "I don't think I'm done yet." Oh, he wasn't done. He was far from done.

"I think you are."

The icy voice was a knife in the thick silence that had settled over the room, and it took him a moment to realize just who had spoken. His control was coming back now, but his temper still flared. She hadn't just caught Scamp, dragged him out of Vice's path. But she had. And what was more, now as he watched, he heard her giving orders, gently barking commands to his newsies. This wasn't going to continue.

Striding deliberately across the room to where she stood fussing over the boy who should've been lying unconscious at their feet, Vice cocked his head menacingly to the side, his eyes flitting to the small kids scurrying about. "What, you going to listen to her?!"

And then his gaze was back to Ayala, the irritation rising. So he'd punched a kid. So what? The kid had deserved it. Vice thought maybe he'd taught those Harlem idiots a little more respect than that, but apparently it took more than a couple of bloody noses to pound anything into those girls. He gritted his teeth, turned his attention back to Ayala, watched Scamp glare at him while leaving the room. He couldn't do this, not now. His anger was seething, and he felt the rage beginning to build as he thought of the decking Scamp should've gotten. It was over. Ayala wouldn't listen, and quite frankly, there was nothing to explain. So he fooled around, at least she knew it now.

"So, am I just another whore to you?"

She was blocking the doorway. Smart move, as that had been his first plan of escape. No, not escape. He wasn't running, just avoiding, avoiding unnecessary conversations that could only end in misery. He wasn't in the mood for manners, and he felt his blood beginning to race. He looked up, met her gaze full on. Moving close to her, he raised a hand, cupped her chin hard, forcing her to look at him. "Ayala, I am not discussing this with you."

[Delilah]

"Ayala, I am not discussing this with you."

Ayala jerked her head back and pulled her chin out from his hands grip. Her hand moved without her having even consciously having decided to take action and smacked him across the face. The sound echoed in her ears as she clenched her teeth together in an effort to stop the tears that had formed at the fresh stab.

"Why not?" She said her tone firm. "I wanna know."

So many words had been said this night and they all rang through her head. So he slept around, but he'd admitted it. He'd admitted the truth... maybe she could believe that there had been some truth to the other things. Maybe just a little.

"Isaac." She grabbed his shoulder and rattled him for a split second. "I don't care about them."

The words didn't exactly ring true, but she tried to her best to make it seem that way. She did care, but at the same time she would try not to if her thoughts would prove to be true.

"listen to me." She said praying that he would listen. "please."

She let him go knowing that her physical roughness might provoke anger and decided to take a different approach.

"What the kids said was true." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "But..." She paused for a moment, took a breath and looked him in the eye all the while still holding the tears back. "Did you mean any of it? Anything you said tonight? At all?"

Her hand reached out in a tender gesture. She wasn't sure that she wanted to touch him again not knowing what his reaction would be like but she wanted him to know that she was sincere when she whispered. "You're only human."

[Vice Ingram]

Isaac dropped his hand as Ayala wrenched free from his grip, but kept still, his cheek stinging at her slap. He set his jaw defiantly and stared back at her, willing his anger to subside.

"Why not? I wanna know. Isaac, I don't care about them."

She was shaking him gently now, and he could see her green eyes shining with tears. He knew she was lying, she did care. He kept silent, didn't move. There was nothing he could say. She wanted him to talk, but Vice had a feeling that the sooner he opened his mouth, the sooner she would want him to shut it again. There simply were no words left.

"Listen to me. Please. What the kids said was true. But...did you mean any of it? Any of what you said tonight? At all?"

Her hand was gone from his shoulder, and the quiet swallowed up her words as soon as he'd heard them. Her voice sounded weak, tired, and Vice felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that his decisions were the cause. If only he'd have chosen a different street that day. If only that fateful warehouse had been empty, he would never have brought this upon her. She was still staring at him, and, feeling as though he couldn't take it, he turned his back to her, studied the far wall. He felt her hand brush him, her voice once more, this time a whisper.

"You're only human."

"Why should I answer a question you already know the answer to?" His voice sounded gruff, muffled.

[Delilah]

Staring at his back, Ayala felt hopeless. She'd hoped she'd convinced him but she had a feeling that she hadn't.

"Why should I answer a question you already know the answer to?"

Ayala's arm brushed his as she walked around him to face him. She didn't want to talk to his back like they were children having a disagreement.

"I don't" she said watching his face. "I don't." She repeated.

She nudged his chin so his face wasn't turned away from her. " I will never know until i hear you say it. So please, do i mean anything to you? or am i just another whore."

The words hung in the air and she felt tension rise in her body. She honestly wasn't sure about the answer but she had theories. She wanted to know for sure but she wouldn't let herself get her hopes up.

[Vice Ingram]

She was facing him now. He should have known she would do that, he couldn't avoid this discussion that easily. In fact, it seemed as though it was going to be completely impossible to avoid answering her directly. It wasn't that he didn't want to, or that he minded feeling vulnerable at present, but by the tone of her voice, he wasn't sure she would believe him. Every word he thought of seemed silly, ridiculous.

"I don't. I don't."

He looked up. Whether she was telling the truth, he didn't know, but from the anxiety in her eyes, he suspected she needed an answer directly from him regardless of any previous notions she may have had.

"I will never know until I hear you say it. So please, do I mean anything to you? Or am I just another whore?"

He felt her hand bringing his face back to hers, strangely reminiscent of an earlier gesture he had made. Her touch, however, was much more tender than his had been, and his stomach wrenched violently as he realized he had no idea how to deal with this. What business did he have with nice girls? Since he'd met Ayala, all he seemed to do was hurt her.

Finally, sighing heavily, he spoke.

"I'm not good for you, Ayala, and I'm not good enough for you. You are not a whore to me, and you never will be. You make me so much more than I am, but if you don't believe me I won't make no fuss, just let you leave. Because that's where you belong, Yali. Not here. Not with me."

He'd said it. He'd said the words that had been stockpiling in his brain since the moment Scamp and his crew had started their taunts. She was far too good for him, and he thought it best she knew that.

"I don' know how we thought we could make this work. I love you, Ayala, but I don' know what I was thinking. What we were thinking."