The Player's Proposal

6: The Chicken

Percy POV

Ugh, I'm so stupid. I'm such a freaking idiot. Why did I make this proposal? And, why did I agree to it? 

Stupid, Percy. BAD, PERCY. 

Sex helped me with getting pain relief from the abuse that I receive from Gabe almost every day. Now, I had given up that form of relief and comfort. Moreover, sex and girls acted as distractions from my messed-up life. Now, I am forced to engage with my pain at all times. 

Of course, I could quit the proposal. 

However, I don't want to. 

It's not because I want to sleep with Annabeth. To be honest, I have no intention or desire for her. She was the complete opposite of me, and we would NOT work. 

Plus, sex via a contract is gross, and I'd never do that. 

However, this proposal with Annabeth provided me with a chance to prove to myself that I'm not an ordinary player. I have my reasons for having sex with a lot of girls, but I don't do it maliciously. I don't want girls to get hurt. It's not an addiction. 

No girl deserved to have me and my screwed-up life anyway. 

Suddenly, a whiff of smoke burned my nostrils. I jolted back to reality and quickly grabbed the pan off of the stove. My hand jerked backward as I cursed in pain. I grabbed a rag and grabbed the pan again. Dam it, I burned Gabe's chicken, and I burned my palm. 

I was so lost in my thoughts that I wasn't paying attention to the food. I was responsible for cooking dinner for Gabe every day. He refused to cook for himself. 

Honestly, why did he have to cook or clean when he has me as a slave? 

I quickly dropped the chicken onto the plate before washing my hands. The vegetables and pasta turned out great but the chicken was not good. 

Fear bubbled in my stomach as I carried his plate to the dining table. Gabe was already waiting with a beer bottle in hand. Hopefully, he was drunk enough that he wouldn't notice the burned chicken. 

I gently set the plate in front of him. 

Gabe's drunken eyes washed over his food before darting towards me. I stood a few feet away from him and prayed that nothing would happen. 

"What am I looking at, boy?" he asked angrily. 

Gabe's rotten teeth showed as he snarled at me. Alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs morphed the man into an ugly, disgusting pig. 

"I made some roasted vegetables, pasta, and grilled chicken for you. I hope that you enjoy the dinner," I expressed nervously. My left hand rubbed the burn on my right palm. I was waiting for the dam to explode. 

Our dining room was small, which only emphasized Gabe's dominating presence. The anger radiated around us. 

Gabe's actions were quick. He grabbed the chicken slab and launched it at me. 

The meat hit me in the cheek. The burned char powdered on the floor as the chicken made an impact. My eyes watered before looking back up. My eyes widened as Gabe closed the distance between us.

Pain exploded in my gut from the impact of his knee. 

I groaned before clutching my stomach and staggering away from him. Gabe's eyes fumed with rage. 

"I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry for burning the chicken," I wheezed. 

"Go get me some real food, you worthless boy," Gabe snapped.