The fridge in her flat was far too loud to be considered normal, but it had served to relax them as they lay in bed. Juri reached for a t-shirt from her bedside draw, pulling it over her before she settled back down next to him.

She couldn't for the life of her understand why they had kept this thing going. It had started off with them avoiding each other after that night. She didn't even glance at him as he dropped her off. She raced out of the car, ignoring his greeting before she bolted for the steps.

When she entered Is'haaq's office to drop of the money, he had coaxed her into sitting down. She was restless and had fled. She meant to catch a taxi and go home but...

He found her next to his car. No words or explanations except that she opened her door when he unlocked the car and got in next to him. He took her to his home, cooked a pot of soup and before either of them could stop it, they had been caught up on his couch, with his hands beneath her panties as she arched closer and closer to him.

"Your fridge is loud."

"Barely works anymore." Juri shrugged, running her hands over her headboard. They'd been sleeping together for almost a month yet in all that time, they had only two conversations that had fallen past the realm of superficial. "Not like I keep much in it anyway."

He hummed, turning over onto his stomach as he closed his eyes.

"You sleeping over?"

"I'm sleeping," he mumbled into the pillow, "Not sure for how long though." He pushed his head further into the pillow, drowning out the sound of the monstrous fridge and the taps of her fingers against the wood behind them.

She was wired. She envied his light snores and closed eyes. She couldn't sleep just yet. Her mind was too busy, going over everything that had happened between them and between her and her parents. They were exacerbating the situation... they had actually told that sick son of a bitch where she lived. He was waiting for her on the staircase going up to her flat, smiling as he took in her larger curves.

"Long time, girlie." His smile stretched from ear to ear.

She had dropped her bags, watching her groceries tumble down the stairs. It wasn't worth it picking them up in front of him. She didn't want to turn her back on him. "You've come a long way, Uncle Paul." She licked her lips nervously, edging closer to her door.

"I protect my investments." He stood up, shrugging off his denim jacket. His muscles were huge against his black shirt and the tap-tap of his shoes against the grimy tiles echoed all around her. "I still remember how good you taste, girlie." He sucked his finger into his mouth, a crude reminder of their last meeting.

"I'm not an investment." She was closer to her flat, but she didn't want him to know that just yet.

"But that's where you're wrong." He shrugged, pulling out his phone to scroll through his gallery. "You're a big investment for me. Prime capital, really."

"I don't think so..." Her breaths were quick pants as fear overtook her lungs.

He shook his head as he stalked her, widening his steps just a little more. "Mummy and Daddy got into a little bit of trouble with me." He snatched her arm, dragging her towards him. "See." his arm was around her neck, tightening just a little more till she struggled to breathe, "They thought they could steal from me but I'm too smart for them... or maybe they're just too stupid."

A grainy picture was all he had of her parents- bruised and broken in a small, empty room.

Her hands were around his elbow, trying to pry him off her but he was far too strong.

He took a long sniff of her hair, kissing the crown of her head. "Still so sweet, little girl." He yanked her back, till she balanced on her tip-toes, tears escaping her eyes as he turned her to look at him. "They told me you could pay me back."

"I don't have any money, Uncle Paul." She gasped out, still trying to escape his grasp.

"Oh man..." he released her neck, only to grasp her around her waist, pulling her flush against his body, "It's only five grand, my baby. Your parents are too stupid to steal more."

She wanted to vomit. She could feel him pressed against her back, hardening with every second. She nodded, even though she knew she wouldn't have it.

"You sure?" He sucked her neck, a long swipe from the base of her neck till the bottom of her chin.

"Uh huh." She nodded again, still trying to shrug out of his hold.

"Because if you don't," his hand cupped her crotch, squeezing it till she cried out," well..." he eased off his grip, fiddling with her waistband before his fingers delved into her pants, "I wouldn't mind being called Uncle Paul while I fuck you every which way in your little flat." He touched her over her panties, making sure she felt his finger right at her opening. "Okay?" He pushed in, just until she yelped in pain before he let her go.

"Okay..." she fell back as soon as he left her, her legs unable to carry her weight.

"I'll be back in a few weeks." He smiled, walking away. He stopped and bent down to pick up something before he turned back around. "You sure you'll have my money?"

"Yes." She said, shuffling back.

"Yes, who?" He teased.

"Yes, Uncle Paul."

He grinned, tossing her tin of baked beans into her lap. "Good."

She didn't have his money. After her rent and electricity and water... and fuck. She had sold whatever she could but even that wasn't enough. He would be back some day. A week had already passed since that night and she was no closer to getting his money than she was back then. She couldn't ask Is'haaq for another extension either. He'd get suspicious if she had to ask once more in such a short span of time.

She stood at her window, bouncing her knee against the wall as she stared vacantly across the car park. What the fuck was she supposed to do? This wasn't something she could run away from. It wasn't like her other problems. It wasn't like when Yahya and her granny died that she could pick up house and run. He probably had tabs on her. She knew he didn't need the money, but it was the principle of the matter for him. Her parents had stolen from him and she needed to pay him back.

How did they even find out where she lived?

She ran her hand over her knee, irked at how dry it felt. She didn't have lotion in her house. She had nothing. She had sold her her shampoos, her creams, her make-up... everything. She sold it to her neighbours, so it wasn't as if she could even make much of it. With all that she sold as well as what was left of her money after payments, she only had half the money.

She started to scratch her neck, scratching and scratching and scratching till she hurt but she didn't stop. What the hell was she supposed to do? Uncle Paul really would rape her. She knew enough about him to know that he didn't just fuck someone once too. And he liked to share...

His hand closed over her own, stilling her movements. "What's wrong?"

He rested his chin on her shoulder, warming her back with his body.

"Nothing."

Is'haaq snorted, poking her in her belly. "Don't talk shit."

"I can't, Is'haaq." And she really couldn't. No one rats out a man like that and expect to get away with it.

"At least come back to bed." He kissed her neck, long drawn out kisses that were sure to leave his mark.

"No." she turned in his arms, already pulling at his boxers, "Here."

She moved to lean against the wall, taking him with her as she gripped him in her hand, guiding him towards her...

Fuck everything else.

She just needed to screw.