by Tia Louise
“Ugh!” I shouted. “I was right about that, but I think we’re all good now.”
I turned my back to the bar and surveyed the crowd. I wore a short, smoky-blue dress with mile-high black stilettoes. A few potentially dateable males were scattered around the room, and I loved the return of my feelings of freedom. It had been so long since I’d gone out dancing with a friend and enjoyed myself without ending up depressed.
“You have got to tell me what happened this weekend, but first we need to enjoy this place.” I noticed Pete enter the club with two other guys. They were all dressed in jeans and short-sleeve polos, and they all went in different directions once they got inside.
Leaning into her ear, I spoke just over the music. “Heads up—Pete just walked in the door.”
Her lips pressed together, and we both turned to face the bar, moving our heads close together. “Did he see us?”
“Don’t know, but I’m thinking we’re kind of hard to miss. It isn’t that crowded yet.” I couldn’t resist teasing her. “I bet Pete’s loving your crush on the new guy.”
Straightening up to face me, she shook her head, eyes round. “Oh, no. It’s not a crush at all.” I frowned, but she continued. “I mean, Slayde’s definitely doable, and you know I love the wounded ones.”
“But?” I took the last pull from my drink as the bartender placed Number 2 in front of me.
“I like my injured ones sweet.” She took another hit of mojito while I paid for my second Tequila Sunrise. “Slayde seems like more of a biter.”
Snorting, I shook my head as I sipped my drink. “You probably said something about his aura, and it ticked him off.”
“It’s not true! I think I ticked him off when I tried speaking sign language to him.”
“What?!”
A swirl of warmth to my left, and Pete was with us, smiling down at Mariska. “Hey, sexy. I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”
The desire in his voice almost killed my buzz, considering what I knew about his chances. It was a shame, too, because Pete was hot—tall, muscular, with light brown hair and nice eyes.
“Hey, Pete, I’m going to dance,” I said, ignoring Mariska’s variety of facial expressions trying to get me to stay.
“Hey, Ken,” he called after me. “Like the hair.”
I did a little wave over my shoulder and plunged right into the sea of gyrating bodies. The DJ was playing loud dance music, and I closed my eyes letting it wash over me and take me out on a rush of techno. It wasn’t long before I felt the warmth of a body behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I met a perfectly white smile in a tanned face.
His eyes were a little hard to make out because of the brim of his cap, but he wore a black tank that showed off all his muscles and ink. He was straight-up sexy.
Turning to face him, I noticed he was wearing jeans and a loose gold watch on one arm. My eyes went back to his face. Bad-boy grin. I could work with this.
He leaned forward near my cheek. “I’ve been watching you all night. You’re like a pixie with that hair.”
Lifting my chin, my voice was coy. “Would that make you Peter Pan?”
His sexy grin grew a little bigger across his face, and large hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer. We were moving against each other now. It felt good, and I slid my hands up to his shoulders. He smelled good, like that after-shave everybody wears. Lemony. The song changed, and we kept dancing, our bodies rubbing together in a delicious way.
“I’m Grif. Or Griffin, whichever you prefer.”
I leaned forward so that my lips touched the skin of his ear. “You live around here?”
When I moved back for his answer, I saw his eyes sweep my body. “Nah, I’m just passing through. But maybe I’ll be back.”
The idea of traveling, just leaving everything behind and going, felt so seductive right now. “What do you do?”
“I’m in sales.” His hands moved up my ribs, and when they slid back down, his thumbs drifted across my stomach, sending a tingle through my core to my toes.
It was hot, and I was starting to feel sweaty, but I didn’t want to stop dancing. I took a big gulp of my drink instead. The song changed again, and a guy came up beside us.
Grif’s head snapped toward him. “Get lost.”
I didn’t like his tone, and somewhere thorough the haze of my tequila-soaked brain, it nudged a little trigger of caution. I chose to ignore it. Check out, brain! I was dancing with a hot guy with nice hands and a nice smile, and I wanted to taste those lips.
Mariska appeared out of nowhere to dance beside us. She leaned into my ear. “You okay here?” Wobbling back up, she looked straight into my eyes.
“Yeah!” My voice was maybe a bit too high. “I’m having fun. Thanks for taking me out tonight!”
She gave me a squeeze and started dancing with both hands over her head. I turned back to smile at Grif and caught his eyes moving over her body as well. I didn’t like the way he was checking her out, but at the same time, Mariska was a beautiful girl. Guys would be brain dead if they didn’t notice. I didn’t want to be with any brain dead guys. That made me laugh, and a third Tequila Sunrise magically appeared in my hand. I took a big gulp, and one of my favorite dance mixes came on. I jumped up and down squealing, only spilling my drink a little, when I noticed Pete was back.
He was so good-looking. He caught my friend’s hand, and I saw the way she blinked up at him. I wasn’t sure what number mojito she was on, but it looked like Pete might make it to third base tonight. Eight more beats, and he was leading her off to the side.
“It’s hot.” Grif’s loud voice jerked me back to where I was. He was lifting the front of his black tank and fanning it out in front of him, giving me a little peak at a nice six-pack. “Want to go down to the water and cool off?”
“Umm…” I scanned the club for Mariska. We had a standing deal never to leave any club without alerting each other. “I need to let my friend know where I am.”
He smiled with those perfect teeth. “We won’t be gone long. I doubt she’ll even miss us.”
He was probably right. I nodded, and took the large hand he offered me, following him out the back door and to the patio area. A wide staircase led straight down into the sand, and he tugged my hand, leading me toward the water.
We started walking south, away from the club and toward the dim lights of Bayville. I let out a little noise with my exhale. “Whew! That is the most fun I think I’ve ever had in this town.”
I laughed, but Grif was strangely quiet. We kept walking a little ways, listening to the sound of the surf rolling in gently tonight, the dull thud of bass thumping softer behind us. I paused and reached down to remove my black stilettoes. When I did, I noticed a smaller, thin man was following us at a distance. Something about the way he looked made my stomach clench, but I tried to cover.
“So you’re a salesman? What do you sell?” They were the only words I got out before he grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me against the sand.
I tried to scream, but his mouth covered it. His hands were moving fast, ripping my skirt up and my panties down. Panic hit me hard, and all I could think to do was pull my knee up as fast as I could right into his groin.
He was late to block me, but I didn’t land a disabling strike. Still, it rolled him off long enough for me to pull my body to the side and crawl as fast as I could away from him.
“Let me GO!” I screamed, my voice ragged and hoarse.
He was right behind me, catching the back of my thigh and stopping my escape. I screamed again as loud and as long as I could, but we were too far from the club for anyone to hear me. Even if we were closer, I doubted anyone would notice over the loud thump of the dance music.
“Shut up, you little bitch.” He grabbed my mouth as he climbed up my body from behind. “Stop fighting and you just might enjoy yourself.”
His mouth was right at my ear, and I tried slamming my head back as hard as I could, going for his nos
e. He dodged the blow, and I only fell backwards onto his shoulder.
Shoving me forward, his thigh wedged between my legs, and my face jammed in the sand. I screamed again, trying not to inhale the grains that would choke me.
“STOP!” I screamed, but my voice cracked, and I sounded more like a child than a woman.
His fingers slid across my skin, and I screamed, pulling my knees under me and pushing my ass straight up, hoping to knock him off-balance. It didn’t work. He only held my waist against his erection. I could feel it straining to be inside me.
“Yeah, that’s right.” His voice was a low growl.
I was at the end of my rope. That little candle of happiness so recently lit inside me was crushed out. How was this happening to me? I started to cry, flailing my arms any way I could until he pinned them against my sides.
I screamed again, but my voice was almost gone. “You’ll be sorry!” I sobbed. “My big brother is military. He’ll track you down and rip your throat out. Then he’ll shove it up your ass.”
I struggled to twist against his arms, but he was too strong. A voice jolted me. It was the thin man who’d been following. “Grif, maybe you should let her go.”
He only paused, still holding my back against his chest in a vice grip. “Are fucking kidding me? Get the fuck out of here so I can nail this bitch.”
I screamed again, but his large hand covered my mouth. “Stop screaming, pixie. I just want a little of your sugar.”
My voice was now a whimper broken by sobs. “Please stop. Please.” I’d done everything I knew to do, and I’d lost. He was going to take what he wanted, and there was no way I could stop him.
He jerked my thighs open, and my head dropped forward, eyes closed. Every muscle in my body braced for his invasion. Just then I heard the faint squeak of feet on damp sand. A loud CRACK! was right at my ear, and my attacker’s grip loosened.
Another CRACK! and his fingers roughly jerked my arms as he dropped to the sand, flat on his back. I fell forward on my hands and knees, shaking. It was dark, but I could make out a slim male figure standing over Grif, breathing fast.
I kept crawling until I was several feet away before I turned to look. The thin man was nowhere to be seen, but the new guy was fixed in the spot where he stood. His fists clenched and unclenched, over and over, and a low sound like growling whispered through his lips with each labored breath. It was as if an internal battle was playing out in front of me.
Carefully, I helped myself rise on wobbly legs. My shoes were lost in the darkness along with my panties, and my dress was torn. I took a few, hesitant steps toward the man standing over my attacker. I was only holding on by a thread and ready to run as hard as I could back to Mariska.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice broken.
My words seemed to break the spell, and the guy staggered back. He turned to me, but I could barely see his face between my tears and the dim light.
“Are you okay?” His voice was as shaken as mine.
I nodded, unable to stop trembling. “You… you saved me.”
He was taller than me, and he had on knee-length shorts and a white tee that caught the light. He rubbed his stomach and leaned forward slightly. Then he coughed and took a deep breath, digging in his pocket.
“Do you need to call your brother?”
Confusion was my first response. “I don’t have a brother.” Then I remembered my failed last attempt at escape. “That was a bluff.”
He took a careful step toward me. “I need to go. Is there anyone you can call?”
The asshole in the sand groaned. “Shit,” my savior whispered under his breath. “Can you make it back—”
Just then I heard my name being yelled from the direction of the bar. I looked up to see Mariska in the distance heading our way fast, and behind her was what had to be Pete. Turning to the guy, our eyes met, and I had the strangest urge to rush forward and hide in his arms. I didn’t even know who he was, and he was clearly unglued over what had happened here. Maybe I was in shock, but I wished he would touch me, hold me. He saved my life.
“Those are my friends,” I said quietly. “I’ll be okay now.”
He nodded. “Good.” His hand went up, palm facing me as he backed away. “Go to them.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, but my voice was lost in the pounding of the surf and the swirl of the ocean breeze around us as he ran, leaving me there on the shore alone.
Slowly, I turned toward Mariska, but I jumped when I saw the thin man had returned. He was helping a moaning Grif onto his knees and glaring at me.
“Stupid bitch!” he spat. “You set him up, you fuckin’ cock tease. I watched you dancing with him, rubbing your ass all over his dick. Was that your boyfriend?”
Shudders racked my chest, and I didn’t even answer. This wasn’t my fault! For a moment, all I could do was blink at him like an idiot. Then I started running away from them, in the direction of Mariska and Pete. Bastard, horrible fucking bastard. I just wanted to get away as fast as my legs would carry me.
When I finally reached my friends, I collapsed into Mariska’s arms. “Take me home,” I cried against her shoulder. “I need to go home.”
Her body was tense as she held me, stroking my back. “Kenny! What happened? I couldn’t find you!”
Pete was with us then, and I felt his warm hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t want to talk about it with anybody. Clearly Grif had planned the whole thing from the start, even down to his witness and alibi. It wouldn’t matter what I said, they’d claim I started it all. Now I just wanted to go home and crawl beneath my covers.
“Y-yeah.” I said, pulling myself together as hard as I could. “I-I had an accident. I was running, and I… I fell. I tripped on the sand.”
Mariska gasped. “Oh! Your dress is torn! Are you bleeding?”
I lifted the ends of my dress. “My heel got caught in it. I had to take my shoes off. I-I think I’ll be okay.”
My friend’s brows pulled together, and I was sure she didn’t believe me. “Where’s Grif?” She looked over my shoulder down the beach in the direction from which I’d come.
“He met an old friend.” My mind was flying, making up a story as fast as bits of information would come to me. “They were talking, catching up, and I heard you calling me. So I left. I really just want to go home now.”
Mariska and Pete both stood on the beach staring at me for a moment. A shudder rippled across my shoulders, but I took a slow breath and lifted my chin to look at them. I even managed a smile. “I think I had a little too much to drink tonight. Please take me home now. Please?”
My friend’s lips pressed together in a tight line, but she stepped to the side. “Sure. Of course!”
Pete turned and led us slowly back in the direction of the bar. His hands were in his pockets, and his shoulders were hunched. Mariska held my hand, our arms laced together, and I forced myself to walk, not to break down, to be strong for just a little while longer.
We made it to her car, and I waited in the passenger’s seat as she stood outside for a few moments talking to Pete. The roaring in my ears drowned out any conversation they might be having. My super-controlled breathing kept my back straight, my body from curling into a ball.
Conversation was minimal as we made the short drive back to my house. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mariska asked softly.
I nodded too rapidly and smiled too big. “I’m great!” I said in a voice I knew was too high.
Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “I’m sorry I lost track of you. Pete… wanted to talk.”
I couldn’t even go there with her. “It’s okay.” I was hoarse from screaming and fighting, and at this point, I was running on will power alone. We were at my apartment, and I pulled my bag onto my lap.
“Thanks, Mare.” I reached for the handle, but she caught my arm.
“I know you’re not telling me something. If you want to take off tomorrow, I�
��ll tell Rook you’re sick. I can call your clients and reschedule or see if Tammy can take them?”
Blinking rapidly, I nodded. “I might do that. Thanks.”
Her grip relaxed on my arm, but I didn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks again,” I whispered, pulling the handle.
In less than two minutes, I was inside my apartment, dropping all of my things in a path leading from the door to my bedroom. My torn dress was quickly over my head, and I pushed naked between the cool sheets. I pulled my knees tight against my chest, wrapping my arms around them and hugging myself into a tight ball. Tears fell silently as my thoughts blurred, and it wasn’t long before shock gave way to sleep.
7
“Every breath is a second chance.”
Slayde
Monday morning, I’d been back at the club at seven, ready to do it all over again when Rook stopped me at the door.
“That your truck?” He pointed out the glass doors at my rusty old Ford.
“Yeah.” I squinted at him, unsure if he were accusing me of carjacking or yanking my chain. I couldn’t imagine a guy with his resources caring about the junker I used to get from Point A to Point B.
“Got some supplies stuck in Scranton. It’s worth it to me to get them here tomorrow if I can find someone willing to drive out there and load it all up by himself.” He looked at me. “Think you can handle a job like that?”
I stepped away, rubbing the back of my neck. “You need me to drive to Scranton?”
He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a thick fold of bills. I watched him unfold one, two, three. “Here’s money to cover your gas, food, hotel room.”
For a moment, I stared at the cash in my hand. An itch of warning pricked at the back of my neck. “You want receipts?”
“Nah, keep the change.” He slapped me on the back, and my conditioned response kicked in.
“I’ll bring you receipts and return the difference.”
Rook exhaled loudly. “Can’t you just take it and say thanks?”
“I’m no charity case.”
“Right.” His eyes narrowed. “And you’re still on probation here. Use whatever’s left to buy a new pair of jeans and eat something. I don’t want members thinking I hire vagrants.”