Too Good Girl

by Eleanor Lloyd-Jones

  “Sure man. Just let me in. I need to find her.”

  “Okay.” He let out a loud sigh. “These are Doug’s private rooms. He generally entertains in VIP, but when he has bigger parties with more people, he uses these back rooms. I’ve been informed that he’s taken some of his guests back here tonight, so he may have booked Syra to work the bar. If so, she’ll be in here. I normally receive details of the bookings for her because she’s on my bar downstairs. Tonight she was working VIP from the get go, so it would have gone through Rick. I’ve radioed him. He wasn’t given details, but that doesn’t mean Doug didn’t instruct her last minute. He makes his own rules. We don’t always know everything that goes on around here. Just—”

  “Let me in.”

  He stood back. “I didn’t lead you here. Okay?”

  I nodded and wrapped my fingers around the door handle as Freddie retreated quickly back down towards the door we’d come in through.

  I dipped my head a little and entered.

  The sight that greeted me was hard to take in. The lights were low and the music was loud making it difficult to work out exactly what was happening. It did however give me some time to get my bearings before I was noticed. There were bodies everywhere. There was so much flesh: the girls wore barely anything, some of them in states of undress as they were mauled and caressed by the men they were with. There were groups of friends huddled in conversation or around a table of drugs.

  I kept close to the wall and tried to locate Doug, who I finally spotted, surrounded by a harem of women as he regaled them with something or other. They were all over him, their heads tipped back in laughter.

  I inched my way slowly towards the bar that was situated along the side wall and kept my eyes on the rest of the room. A girl carrying a tray caught my eye, and I winked at her, holding my finger to my lips to stop her from frowning and giving my game away. She giggled playfully and nodded, moving around the bodies to collect empty glasses before returning to the bar area. I took my chance and grabbed her elbow pulling her into the corner of the room with me, spinning her against the wall and resting my finger gently against her mouth to stifle the yelp that tried to escape.

  “Hey.” I mouthed the word to get her attention.

  She smiled seductively and I let go of her. The noise in the room made it almost impossible to talk, so I pressed my mouth to her ear and shouted for her to hear me. “I need your help. I’m looking for my friend.”

  She pushed her hips out a little and grinned before replying. “What’s in it for me, handsome?”

  I rested the heel of my hand on the wall beside her head and flicked my eyes from one of hers to the other, racking my brain for a suitable answer. “Help me find her first.”

  “Her.” She sneered. “I should have guessed a stud like you wasn’t available.” She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin. “Who is she?”

  I straightened up. “Syra. Syra Johnson.”

  Her mouth turned down at the corners and she shook her head. “Never heard of her.”

  Assessing her expression, I decided she was probably telling the truth. “She works here at the club. She’s a waitress.”

  “All the waitresses in the room tonight have been contracted in for this party. We don’t work for the club, so I don’t know any of the staff.”

  Huffing out, I turned my head over my shoulder to scan the room again before turning back to her. “Maybe you’ve seen her. She’s about five four, slim, big blue eyes, dreadlocks—”

  “Oh her.”

  My eyes widened. “You’ve seen her?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. She’s been in here for a couple of hours, drinking and partying with everyone else.”

  I scanned the room again.

  “She disappeared through that door with about four guys a bit ago.”

  My head snapped to look at her. “What?”

  She pointed towards the door on the opposite wall. “Through there. She seemed pretty high.”

  I didn't wait for anymore words, striding with my heart slamming against my chest towards the door, my fists clenched. I turned the handle but the door didn’t budge. Glancing up I looked for a lock of some sort but there was nothing. I rattled it and shouted above the racket in the room. “Syra, it’s me. It’s Jack. You in there?” Placing my ear against the wood, I listened and rattled again. The sound of muttering from male voices and an unmistakable grunt had me shoving my whole weight against the door—shoving as hard as I could, shouting her name again. “Syra!”

  Bang

  Bang

  Bang

  My body slammed against the door over and over until it finally gave in, and I tumbled into the room. With my heart in my throat and a fierce anger like I’d never felt in all my life rising inside me like a beast from the sea my eyes widened, quickly flickering around and taking in the scene around me.

  “Get the fuck off her.” I lurched forwards, grabbing the guy who was thrusting inside of her by the back of his collar and hurling him away, leaving him to trip over his jeans that were around his ankles.

  “What the fuck man?” He glared up at me from the floor but, I didn’t give him the time of day when I saw a second guy knelt on the bed behind her head, his dick in her mouth and a startled expression on his face.

  “Fucking arsehole.” I leaned over, knocking him backwards and focusing all of my attention on my girl—the girl I ached for with every fucking beat of my heart; the girl I had neglected to save and neglected to care for.

  My hands came up to her face, hovering around her cheeks, scared to touch her, as my eyes assessed the situation, roaming over every inch of her to check for fuck knows what. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her breathing short and raspy, and her legs twitched. Leaning over to listen to her heart, I found it beating erratically.

  My head kicked up to look at the four guys who still seemed stunned in silence. “She’s fucking ODd, you sick fucks!” I scrambled around in my pocket for my phone, pulling it out and calling 999. “You sick mother fuckers!” I glared at them, my fingers on Syra’s wrist to keep track of her pulse. I wanted to kill them. I wanted to grab their throats and squeeze until their eyes popped out, but she was all that mattered. I placed my hand on her cheek, smoothing it down, emotion clogging my throat as I relayed all the relevant information to the ambulance service. Hanging up, I made myself comfortable beside her, smoothing my hands over her hair and my knuckles across her cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry.” I whispered in her ear and kissed her forehead. “I’m so fucking sorry, Syra.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  I looked up to see Doug standing in the broken doorway, his eyes roaming over the scene, thunder in his eyes as the waitress I’d been talking to scurried away, her phone to her ear. I ignored him, returning my attention to Syra, keeping my eyes trained on her face, counting the seconds, checking her pulse again and again and willing the paramedics to hurry the fuck up. “I’ve called an ambulance. And just to warn you: that little waitress, she’s seen it all. You might want to clean up here.” I flicked my eyes towards Doug and he nodded. He wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have a fucking leg to stand on if the cops showed up so didn’t argue with me.

  I blocked out the sounds of him ushering away the cunts who had hurt Syra and the abrupt end to the private party, my stomach churning at the thought of the of money they may well have paid Doug to have Syra to themselves for the night.

  They all moved into the main club area leaving me and her and my guilt.

  ***

  “If you can follow me, sir.” The soft voice of a nurse cut through the hazy noise of sirens and medical chatter. I watched two paramedics physically restrain Syra’s body as she kicked and twisted, her elevated heart-rate causing agitation and confusion, so I’d heard them say. They wheeled her away from me, an IV line in her arm and an oxygen mask over her face. The word tachycardic rang around in my head and panic
gripped me as I attempted to pull myself together enough to follow the nurse to the waiting room.

  Slumping into a plastic chair, I swiped across my phone screen to take an incoming call.

  “How is she?” Doug’s voice angered me beyond measure and I stood quickly, striding into the corridor where I hissed at him.

  “What the fuck are you playing at?”

  “Is she alive?”

  “For now, no thanks to you. What the hell are you doing? What’s your game? Why are you messing with her?”

  The line was quiet and I could almost hear his mind whirring. “Are the police there yet?”

  “No.”

  “Well. They will be. That girl phoned them. But leave all that to me. You’re completely ignorant. Okay?”

  I clenched down on my back teeth and squeezed my eyes shut, fighting between what was right and the voice in my ear.

  “Jack.”

  “What?”

  “Leave the police to me. Send them this way. Okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Keep me informed. Call me later with an update.” He hung up and I spun around, slapping my palm hard against the wall before sliding to the floor.

  Everything was muddled and messed up, and I needed some space to clear my head, but I couldn’t leave her.

  I was literally all she had.

  She was lying there, fighting for her life, no thanks to Doug, but no thanks to me either. I could have intervened at any point. I could have demanded she let me and pushed her harder if she’d continued to refuse.

  I could’ve stayed.

  If I’d have stayed, I could have protected her from Doug at the very least, but I left, and I threw her to the wolves.

  A paramedic I recognised from the ambulance walked past, and I scrambled to my feet quickly to follow him. “Hey, man.”

  He stopped and turned. “Hey. You okay?”

  I was desperate. I could hear it in my own voice and I could feel it in the way my body shook. I thumbed over my shoulder. “I was just—” I sighed, my words struggling to formulate into coherence. “You picked up my friend, from The Release. The girl. Is she…” I couldn’t say the next words because if the answer wasn’t what I was looking for, I wasn’t sure I could take it.

  The paramedic gripped my shoulder. “As far as I know she’s hanging in there. You need to do the same, okay? Get a drink, sort yourself out. She’s going to need you when she comes around.”

  I nodded. When she comes around. That was positive, right? When, not if?

  Fuck.

  I thanked him and trudged back to the waiting room, only to be approached by a nurse and two police officers.

  “Jack Palmer?”

  I stood, licking the dryness from my lips before nodding and shoving my hands into my jacket pockets.

  “If you can come with us.”

  I followed them into a small interview room where we sat opposite each other, one of them leaning forwards with his hands clasped on the table, the other with a notepad and pen, poised and ready to take my statement. The last time I’d sat in front of police officers had been the night I left. Sitting in that living room, lying through my teeth so that Doug’s bent copper friend could manipulate the situation and convince his female colleague that everything would be tied up was one of the lower points in my ‘career’.

  Because the waitress had called them, I hoped these guys were kosher, but who knew which member of the local constabulary were receiving back-handers from Patterson.

  We talked for about ten minutes. I gave them Syra’s details, where she lived, what she did. I told them who I was and that I worked for Doug. I was honest to a tee until the all important question.

  “So what happened tonight?”

  You’re completely ignorant.

  Running my thumb under my nose I leaned back in my chair and bought a few seconds of thinking time. “Syra works at The Release. I’m not sure for how long. We used to be house mates, but I moved out a few weeks ago and we haven’t really been in touch since.” I cleared my throat and reached for the glass of water I’d been handed. “I turned up at the club tonight to see if I could speak to her. I wanted to know how she was getting on. She didn’t come out when I expected her to, so I went looking for her. I eventually found her, and the rest you know.”

  He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Was she alone?”

  I pulled my lips into a thin line before answering, the truth jumping around in my stomach almost forcing me to let it out. “Yep.”

  “Okay. Doug Patterson owns The Release. Was he around?”

  I swallowed. “Eventually. I alerted staff to the fact I’d found her, and then he came down and waited with me until the ambulance came.”

  More nods. Crackles of radios. Scribbling of the pencil.

  “Okay, Jack. Thank you. We will be in touch if we decide there is anything else we want to talk to you about.”

  I stood and leaned over the table to shake his hand and watched them both leave before heading back to the waiting room.

  Lies.

  Why was I protecting him?

  Because he had a hold over me.

  My father owed him a lifetime’s worth of money twice over, and more, and I was paying him back. Dad was pathetic in all senses of the word, and we didn’t speak anymore. But just because our relationship had broken down, I didn’t wish him dead. Doug was that kind of dangerous. He threatened it and you fucking well believed his threat.

  The night’s events would have him unnerved and angry, and I was fully expecting to feel the wrath of his disappointment. However, I was safe. He needed me more than I needed him, especially now. Now I had the weapon of truth to wave in his face, and he knew it. It would be in his best interests to keep me sweet.

  I looked up as a doctor approached the door to the waiting room, the nurse from earlier pointing at me and telling him my name. I stood, anxiety swishing around my gut, and wrung my hands, not sure I was ready to listen to anything he had to say.

  “Shall we?” He led me back to the room I’d just vacated and we sat down.

  “So cocaine can cause many complications, and in Syra’s case, it left her tachycardic, which means her heart was beating abnormally fast, over one hundred beats per minute. We hooked her up to an ECG machine and monitored that whilst administering an IV drip and oxygen in order to counteract the fact that she was acidotic and her respiratory rate was elevated.”

  “I’m sorry. What's acidotic?”

  “Acidosis is when the blood’s ph level is too low. Acid. Acidic.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “She was very agitated due to her increased heartbeat and we wanted to sedate her to ease her confusion—”

  “Hey, Doc, can you cut to the chase here? You’re fucking killing me.”

  He nodded. “Syra went into cardiac arrest—”

  “Fuck.” I stood, my hands folded on top of my head as I moved around in a small circle, my eyes to the ceiling, pulling at my hair and hardly daring to look at him. “She’s… she’s alive, right?”

  Please, God. Tell me she’s alive.

  “We managed to revive her, but she was showing signs of distress, and her heart rate elevated very quickly. Syra has suffered a lot of trauma. Her body has been through a lot and is struggling to cope with the demands it is under. It needs an opportunity to rest, and for that reason, she’s been placed into a medically induced coma.”

  The word flew at my chest like a dagger, causing me to sag against the wall. I had questions, so many questions, but I couldn't work out which ones should come first. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and looked up at the doctor’s kind eyes. He held out a cup of water, which I took gratefully, and sat back down on the chair, my shoulders hunched, my world twisting and rocking as if it were trying to knock me off.

  “She’s stable and about ready to be transferred up to intensive care for a few days. You can go with her if
you like, sit with her for ten minutes. The nurses up there will give you all the information you need for visiting times and the procedures up there.”

  I glanced at him and blew out all the air from my lungs, nodding. “Thank you. For whatever you did. Y’know. To make sure she didn’t—”

  “It was a team effort, but you’re welcome. It’s what we do here.” He smiled tightly. “I’ll give you a minute and then someone will come and get you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I sat for a few moments, my head in my hands, my breathing laboured. I was empty of everything except the memory of finding her two hours ago—the sight of her body being scarred forever by the imbeciles who thought she was merely a toy, a play-thing. A vessel.

  Goddamnit.

  I slammed my fist on the table, throwing myself back into my chair as the door opened and the same nurse from earlier entered the room.

  “How are we doing?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled. “It’s okay. That table has dealt with a lot worse. It’s thick-skinned. Don’t worry.” She smiled again. “So we are about ready to take Syra up to ICU if you want to come?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.” Standing, I walked out of the room in front of her and waited until she’d shut the door. “How long can I stay?”

  “The nurses up there will let you know for sure, but I would imagine only about ten minutes or so. She needs to rest and, well, you need to rest too.”

  I nodded and then held my breath as I saw the trolley she was lying on come towards us, manoeuvred by a porter and accompanied by a nurse who carried a big blue bag. We stood by the wall as she was wheeled past, and I could barely contain the emotion that swept across my chest at the sight of her, a tube in her mouth. My eyes roamed over the oxygen and the monitor that was still attached to her.

  Syra.

  I sniffed and blinked my eyes rapidly, balling my hands inside my pockets as we set off behind them to the lift.

  “So are you her boyfriend?”