Napoleon rushed Indy again. He pressed her against the wall beside the front door. His hand found her nape again and his tongue her lips, but this time he split them apart and sank deeply towards her throat. Indy groaned. She could feel his penis through his jeans, against her hip. He smelled familiar and sweet, like fresh topsoil warmed by the sun after a rain when she re-filled the emptied marijuana pots with new soil after harvest. Napoleon spoke evenly into her ruined ear.
I want you. But I want you to be ready. You have to ask me, you have to tell me when.
Napoleon released her and left the room. Indy’s mind blanked. A clear image of her mother eating her ear shot across that emptiness. Her ear scabs ached and that ache spread like morning light. She was fully awake. When words returned, she wondered, how could he think she would ever know when.