by Leah Holt
Long shadows moved against the wall on my right as the man I was about to screw in the bathroom used his arms as he spoke. “No! It never had to be this way!”
“It's too late, it's already done. You had your chance and you chose to walk out. I have no more patience for you or your shit.” A faint click rang out in the silence, forcing my heart to seize.
The shadows on the wall stood still, and I held my breath, afraid that one exhale would remind them that they weren't alone, that there was someone else spying in the background.
He's got a gun. . . That guy has a gun.
I knew what that sound was, it was hard to mistake it as anything else, even if my brain did its best to alter my perception. But I was in tune with that noise, the heavy click, the croaking of metal as it was pinned back.
That sound was now burned into my brain, a nightmare that I knew I'd relive every time I closed my eyes.
“Don't make me do this right now, you can walk away from this, it's your one free pass. But, this is it, you're only getting one.”
Peeking around his shoulder, I saw a tall, thin man blocking the exit. His eyes were black as hell, and a thick scar ran down his cheek. His hair was short, buzzed on the sides, and a little longer on top.
But, his eyes, his eyes scared the piss out of me. There was nothing in them, no remorse, no shred of compassion, no care for anyone else. They looked dead.
“You aren't going to do a fucking thing. You should have listened in the first place, but you didn't.” The scarred man tipped his head into his shoulder, lifting the gun higher. “This is your fault, you fucked up.”
“I did what I had to do. I thought he understood that, it wasn't done out of disrespect. I just couldn't do it.” I felt a protective hand on my side as the man in front of me stepped back, and pushed me deeper behind him. “Let her go, let her out, and then the two of us can talk.”
The angry man prowled closer, bringing the gun eye level with my protector. Baring his teeth, he snarled, “There is no talking. As far as I'm concerned, she's here, she's a part of you. Did you forget how this shit works?”
I wanted to vomit instantly, the heat filled my throat, and I had to do everything I could to not drop forward and hurl. Choking as I swallowed the lump in my throat, I covered my mouth with the back of my arm.
I don't belong here, not for this.
I need to go, I need to leave right now.
In pure desperation, I looked around for another exit, but was met with nothing but brick walls. All I wanted was to go back inside the club. I shouldn't have been there, I wasn't meant to be a part of any of this.
I'm fucking trapped, there's nowhere to go.
I had one way out of that fucking death trap, and it brought me right past the man with the gun.
Taking in long slow breaths, I raked my fingers through my hair, and pushed deeper into the wall, anxiously wishing for a new escape to emerge and grant me a free pass.
Maybe he's just trying to scare him. Maybe he wants to make a point.
Closing my eyes, I dug my nails into the brick, listening to the man as he threw down threats and last words.
“Nothing will ever make this right—not now, not ever again. You know what I have to do, don't pretend you don't. This wouldn't be happening if you had just done what you needed to do in the first place. But you didn't, you fucking left like the pussy you are.”
“You weren't there, you have no fucking clue. I'm asking you to walk away, just leave. I know you, Frankie, I've known you for a long time.” He was pleading for a solution, doing his best to keep his voice level and calm. “Is this worth it, man? Am I worth all this trouble?”
My body tensed up as I heard his plea floating through the air like a thin sheet of paper, splitting apart with every word. He had no way out, no way to stop whatever was about to happen.
We were trapped like caged animals, the predator a stone throw away, eager and ready to end it all.
“You want the truth?” The man asked, his voice eerily collected. “You ain't worth shit. . .” There was a moment of silence, a single second where all I could hear was my heart hammering inside my chest. “But none of us are, we're all disposable.”
My phone.
A light flicked on in my head as a little voice took charge, reminding me that I wasn't completely helpless. I had a way to stop him, something that could get both of us out of this mess.
My pocketbook hung around my shoulder, dangling at my side. Lowering my hand inside as quietly as possible, I tugged out my phone. My fingers were shaking, quivering so violently I could barely keep the phone steady in my palm.
Dialing the police, I lifted the phone to my ear, as anxiety filled my veins like boiling water. The ringing seemed to go on forever, ring after ring, it was an endless torture against my eardrum.
A loud pop rocked my chest, the flash so bright it ignited like a lightening bolt during a thunder storm. Jerking my body away from the blast, I turned to face the wall, pushing the phone so hard against my ear it hurt. My heart was racing, pulse kicking so intensely I thought my veins were going to burst out of my skin.
No! He shot him!
Pick up! Pick up the fucking phone!
Tensing up, I stood stagnant, waiting for a second shot, anticipating a bullet in my back as I begged for help to answer my call.
“Hello, Wallingdale police department.” I heard the dispatch clear as day, and yet I was mute, unable to connect my brain to my mouth. Nothing was working, my voice, my lips, the tumbling words that were thrashing around inside my skull; I was a quiet ghost in the receiver.
“Hello? This is Wallingdale police, is anyone there?”
I'm here! I can hear you! I need the police, send the police!
The screams went on inside my head, an endless barrage of noise that couldn't be heard by anyone else but me.
“Can I help you?”
Help! Yes, I need help!
“Hang up the phone.” A man's voice cut through my head, slicing my brain into numb slabs of meat. Inhaling a sharp breath, I could still hear the woman on the line, her questions demanding and concerned.
I should have screamed for help, I should have made some noise to let the police dispatch know that I was in serious trouble.
But I didn't. My jaw hung open, my lids shot to my brows, wide and afraid.
Oh, shit. . .
A heavy hand fell on my shoulder, spinning me around. “I said hang up the fucking phone.” Yanking it from my hand, the man threw it to the floor, and crushed it under his foot.
Everything around me fell silent. There were no voices, no subtle music; all I could feel was my body convulsing with spastic movements I couldn't control.
Staring up at him in shock, the white of his eyes lit bright, as a heavy scowl dressed his face. I could see the rage in his glare as his pupils expanded, and thick lines creased his forehead.
But it wasn't the man that had held the gun, it was my stranger that had seduced me. With wild eyes and fear in my voice, I asked, “What happened? What did you do?”
“I warned him, I fucking warned him.” Raking his hand through his hair, he dragged his fingers down his face. “It's alright, everything will be fine.”
I wanted to believe him, but how could I? There was a dead guy on the floor.
“Fine?! Fine?! How is this fine?! You killed him, you fucking killed him!”
Flaring his nostrils, he gritted his teeth and snarled, “Let's go.”
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” I said, taking a step to the side and eyeing the door.
Inching closer to me, he attempted to reach out and grab my arm. “We need to leave now, let's go.”
“Get away from me.” Backing towards a stall, I tried to slink inside and shut the door.
Lunging forward, he curled thick fingers around the back of my neck, and pulled me out, forcing my feet to move with him. “I'm leaving, and you're coming with me.”
The scarred man was laying on h
is back, eyes wide open, a bullet hole in the center of his head. Shock was the best word to describe what I felt. You can't prepare yourself for something like that, seeing a dead person laying in a pool of blood on the floor.
His face was frozen, his hand still twitching at his side. Gasping, I cupped my hands over my mouth as tears began to stream down my face. “He's dead, he's really dead.”
“He didn't listen, he should have listened.” Stepping around his body, the man yanked me along behind him.
Throwing the bathroom door open, the club was still moving, the room around us completely unaware of what had just happened. The music was too loud to hear the shot, and the alcohol was flowing so freely the bang went unnoticed.
With firm fingers around my neck, the man pushed me down the hall towards the back of the club, exiting out a door that dumped us into an alley behind the building. The cool air filled my lungs as a shiver ran through my body, making me realize I had lost all control.
I didn't like the feeling coming over me. I felt vulnerable, exposed, completely at the mercy of the man holding me hostage.
Why did I let him seduce me like that?
Why did I do this alone?
Why didn't I make Della come along?
The idea was there when she was dressing me up like her personal Barbie doll, but I didn't ask. And right then, I wished I had. None of this would have happened if I had someone else with me, Della would have never let me go off to screw some guy I didn't know.
What the fuck did I get myself into?
Who the hell is this guy?
Listening to my heels echo off the buildings, the sound drew me in, filling my ears with white noise. Every step was louder than the next as my heels clicked like a clock inside my brain.
The only other sound around me besides my feet and pulse was the soft and muffled music finding its way out through cracks in the thick brick wall.
I wanted to speak, I wanted to calm him down and let him know I would be on his side. He was threatened, he had no choice. That other man had a gun, and he looked like he had no problem using it.
Was he really threatened? Was that man the bad guy?
There was this moment of question that balled up in my chest. How the hell could I know who the good guy actually was?
This man was as much a stranger to me as the guy he killed.
My lips parted, tongue licking the dry skin so the words would come out easier. “I. . . I know you had to do it. That's all we have to say, that's the truth.”
“I don't give a shit, that doesn't matter,” he snapped, twisting around and holding my arms. His eyes were crazed, filled with so many emotions I could never understand. “Who did you call? Was it the cops?”
I didn't answer, I didn't want to tell him the truth. I was trying to think of something else, something quick and believable so I didn't piss him off anymore than he already was.
Baring his teeth, his lips curled high as he growled, “Answer me.”
Nodding yes, I forced my eyes to the ground, not wanting to see the reaction on his face. I couldn't lie, I couldn't think of one fucking thing to say to him.
The way he said it, the command in his tone and seriousness in his voice, it drove me to speak the truth, to not let my mouth spew false claims of calling a taxi or a friend.
Even if I had come up with the best lie in the world, I still think the way he spoke would have been enough to keep me truthful.
“Then it doesn't matter.” Whipping his head forward, his fingers tightened around my nape. “You're coming with me.”
Digging my heels into the pavement, I tried to force him to stop. “No! Let me go!” screaming as loudly as I could, I reached back and attempted to pry his hand off my neck. “Just let me go!”
I wasn't sure what came over me. Adrenaline had kicked in, the need to survive, and keep going, forged its way to the front of my mind. I wasn't going to go anywhere with him, not now, not ever.
And not with a killer.
I was kicking myself in the ass for even allowing myself to drop my walls and let this man coerce me into the idea of having sex with him.
And knowing he had just killed someone, that he had a weapon of his own, at the mercy for him to use, all I wanted was to be as far away from him as possible.
Fight or flight, it wasn't just a saying, it was a real thing. At first I wanted to flee, I wanted to hide and vanish, pretending that I had never been there at all.
Now, all I wanted to do was fight to get away from him. Even if he was protecting himself and me, he had killed that man, and he didn't even seem phased by it. That was the scariest part of it all, there was no remorse.
He wasn't pulling his hair out, upset that some crazed person had just held a gun to his face. He wasn't spewing statements of regret and sorrow for the man that had just lost his life. He pulled the trigger and stepped around his body without blinking twince.
He's done this before.
I could feel it, I could sense the danger surrounding this man. Everything around me seemed so small and insignificant. I was in the presence of a monster, a man who could kill without thought or feeling.
“That's not happening, not now.”
“No!” Dropping to my knees, the man stumbled forward, causing his hand to shift up my neck and tangle in my hair.
Huffing under his breath, he grunted in frustration. “Fine, you don't want to walk on your own, then I'll do it for you.” Before I could react, he wrapped his arm around my waist and threw me over his shoulder. “We can do this my way.”
“Help! Help!” Screaming at the top of my lungs, I slammed my fists against his back and kicked my legs. “Someone help me!”
A devious chuckle escaped his lips as he tightened his grip around my waist. “No one can hear you, Princess, not back here.”
“You can't do this! Let me go!” My legs flailed, arms slapping and scratching. I just wanted to hurt him so he would drop me. I knew if he dropped me, if I could just get my feet on the ground, I'd fucking run.
“I can do this, because I don't have a fucking choice.”
Growling, I let out a screech that sounded more animal than human. Rocking and jerking my body, I refused to give up and let him just take me.
“Fuck you! I won't go with you!”
“You can try to hurt me all you want, it won't work.” Shuffling me up higher on his shoulder, he strolled through the darkness with me hanging over his back like dead weight.
Lifting my head to look behind me, I could see we were getting closer to the street. A few cars drove by, the streetlights creating a lighthouse effect with the parked cars.
When we get to the road I'll scream again. Someone will hear me, there are too many people around for no one to notice what he's doing.
Keeping my muscles braced, I waited for my moment. I had it all planned out in my head. Once we were at the street I'd scream for help, I'd kick and yell, and I'd force someone to notice us.
Peering from the corner of my eye, I anxiously waited for the road as his feet pressed on without pause. The streetlights grew brighter and brighter, slowly engulfing the darkness around us. Without warning, the man took a hard left, pulling a solid metal door open and slipping inside.
No! No, no, no!
Freedom was right there, it was right there and now it was gone.
“What are you doing? Why are you taking me in here?!” Pushing my hands against the top of his shoulder, I attempted to wriggle myself free. “Go back to the road! Take me back to the road!”
“Sorry, that's not how this is going to work.”
“I just want to go home.” Tears filled my eyes as I felt the safety I longed for slip between my fingers and disappear. “That's all I want to do, I just want to go home.”
“Yeah well, I'm sorry, I can't grant your wish.” Laughing again, his voice raked my spine and turned my insides into a bubbling inferno. “Home isn't an option, and it might never be.”
What the hell does that m
ean?
Why wouldn't I ever be able to go home?
Oh my God. . .
Is he going to kill me too!?
The thought crushed my heart, stomping it into a million tiny pieces. I didn't want to die, I wasn't ready for that.
“Please, just let me go. You don't have to kill me, I'm not a threat to you.”
Firm fingers dug into my hips, slinging me around and placing me back on my feet. But he didn't let go, slipping his hand up my arm, he dug his fingers into my bicep.
“Kill you? Do you think I just. . .” Pausing, his eyes fell over my face. “I'm not going to kill you, at least not if you don't make me.” A slight smirk teased his lips as his lids hooded. “Sit.” Forcing me down into a chair, he took a small step back. “There's nowhere for you to run, so if you really don't want to die, then I suggest you stay put. Running. . .” Pausing, he pushed his shirt back to show me the handle of his gun in his waist. “Running will get you a bullet to the back of the fucking head.”
Curling my fingertips under the chair, I squeezed hard, cutting my nails into the cushion. “Look, I don't know who you are, and honestly, I don't care. What happened was between you and that other guy, it doesn't involve me.”
“It didn't involve you, but the second you stepped foot in that bathroom with me, you dragged yourself into this.” Tugging his phone out of his pocket, he thumbed the screen and held it to his ear. “It's me. . .”
The man turned slightly, keeping me in his peripheral vision. I couldn't hear everything he was saying, only catching quick phrases I had no way to make sense of.
“It didn't work, I'm still here.”
“I won't stop—” Growling, the man dragged his hand through his hair. Going quiet, he listened to whoever was on the other end if the line, scratching at his jaw. “You're a fucking dead man.”
Hanging up his phone, he turned back to face me. His eyes were sad, glinting like liquid metal. He didn't speak for a long second, just staring at me as if he suddenly felt sorry for me.
“Okay, let's go.” Waving his hand, he held out his arm, trying to signal for me to get up.
“Where are we going?” I asked, kicking my legs back and forth nervously. As far as I was concerned, we were good right there. My car was nearby, there were people all around us, people who could get me help, people who could save me from this killer.