“The world would be better off without him. Who is he? A boyfriend? Your pimp?” I asked as I looked to her hands that still held my shirt clutched against her chest. Her fingers trembled. There was no wedding ring, and she looked like she was just barely legal. When my eyes met hers again, they were narrowed, and she looked like she was ready to kick my ass. It would have been cute had I not just put myself on the line for her, but I couldn’t hide my smirk.
“No, he wasn’t my pimp,” she spat angrily. “I guess I should consider myself lucky you chose this alley for your drug deals, but I think it’s time for you to go back to your glass house.” Her eyes were wide with anger. “Ride away on your snake, Morrison.”
I held back a laugh at her Doors reference and her awkward attempt to insult me. “That wasn’t”—my voice trailed off as I searched for a way to explain myself, but words failed me—“I wasn’t trying to offend you, and what you saw isn’t what it looks like.”
“I’d love to hear you talk your way out of all of that, but I don’t want to be here when he wakes up.”
“He’s not waking up anytime soon, and he won’t touch you. I won’t let him.”
“Thank you, my junkie savior, but this hooker has some place she needs to be.”
I sighed, my tongue running over the cut inside my lip. “Can I walk you to your corner?”
Her murderous glare made me laugh as she turned and stormed off down the alley, stumbling in her heeled sandals but recovering quickly.
I began walking in the same direction and soon was at her side as she stopped to adjust her shoe.
“Stalking me now?”
“Someone’s conceited.” I ran my fingers over my hair. “I was actually going this way.”
“Oh really? Have another batch of meth to score?” She glared at me, but I saw her eyes glance down over my chest.
“Hostility is not a very attractive quality.”
“Neither is sexual harassment.” She began to walk faster, but I stayed only a step behind.
“If I were sexually harassing you, you’d know it.”
“You’re a regular Prince fucking Charming. This may be hard to believe, but I don’t care what you think of me.”
“If you didn’t care, why’re you so upset?” The sound of a car approaching, its headlights bouncing off the brick exterior, stopped our conversation. I grabbed her wrist and began pulling her between the set of apartment buildings. Our steps quickened, and soon we were jogging as I tried to get my bearings. The last thing I needed was to get arrested in Orlando. We slowed to a normal pace as we reached the next street over. I took my shirt from her hands and pulled it over my head, grimacing as blood from my hand smeared on the collar. My fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she didn’t struggle to free herself from my grip.
Anxiety
Chapter 7—Ella
Anxiety: desire to do something, typically accompanied by unease
My pulse was racing under his fingertips as we walked the perimeter of the building. I was embarrassed that it wasn’t because of what had just happened, but because of how painstakingly handsome he was. His hair was light brown and short but messy, and his blue eyes stood out against his lightly tanned skin. His body was ridiculously toned. He didn’t look like a man you’d picture beating someone into unconsciousness. But I’d learned a long time ago that the most innocent-looking men can be the most vicious. Some of the prettiest people do the ugliest things. Everyone had at least a skeletons or two in his closet.
“This is where I work. You can stop following me now.” I continued along the left side of the building to the employee entrance. As I did, his free hand grabbed the door and held it open. My eyes met his again, and my knees threatened to give out as the pad of his thumb swept over my hand.
“Try to stay out of dark alleys. You never know who is lurking in the shadows.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear as his fingers slid from my wrist. “I’ll do that,” I mumbled as I stepped inside and the door closed between us.
I walked down the long corridor and into the small prep kitchen used to make appetizers. It housed the walk-in freezer.
“You’re late…again.” Maric’s voice stopped me in my path, and I squeezed my eyes closed as I cursed myself under my breath.
“I’m sorry. There was a guy in the alley who tried to get handsy with me.”
He rolled his eyes, and my excuse died in my throat. You could only cry wolf so many times before people stopped listening.
“It won’t happen again.”
“Good. Tonight you can help with the bar and whatever the band needs. The singer is a personal friend of mine, so I expect you to treat him well.”
As he spoke, the door to the bar opened, and in walked the crazy bastard who had saved my ass in the alley.
“Speak of the devil.” Maric’s eyes lit up as he pulled the man in for a quick hug.
“Devil? I prefer God.”
“Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?”
“What can I say? I like it rough.” He winked, and my knees threatened to give out. I rolled my eyes as I fought against an audible gagging sound.
“Ella, this is Rellik.”
I struggled to keep from glaring at him.
“Ella.” Rellik said my name as if it were a sin. His lips curled in a devilish smirk as he held out his hand.
“Rellik, as in the guy playing here tonight?” I ground my teeth as I placed my hand in his, the pad of his index finger sweeping over my wrist and causing my cheeks to heat.
“You’re a fan?”
“God no.” Pulling my hand from his, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Ella is going to be taking care of you, so if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.” Maric patted Rellik on the shoulder and pushed open the swinging door to the bar. “Ella”—his expression turned serious as he glanced back to me—“play nice.” With that he disappeared, and I was left with the man I tried so desperately to ditch only moments before.
“I love a good plot twist.” Rellik’s grin widened.
“I didn’t really like this job anyway.” I shrugged as I began walking back the long corridor, Rellik at my side. I wanted to scream and flip out. Most of all I wanted to wipe the cocky smirk off Rellik’s ridiculously sexy face. Even with a busted lip, he was fucking beautiful, like a cracked marble statue of a Greek god. Guys like him thought the world turned for them. I hated men like him.
“Why did you help me?” It didn’t make sense for him to risk his freedom over me.
“Because you couldn’t help yourself.”
“No offense, but you don’t seem like the Good Samaritan type.”
He nodded to one of our security guys as we turned right down another hallway. “I’m not.”
I rolled my eyes. “At least you’re honest.”
“That makes one of us.” His hand went to the small of my back to urge me through the doorway before him, and goose bumps followed in the wake of his fingertips. “I think you’ll enjoy the show.”
“Not a big fan of rock music.”
“That so?” He grinned, and I could tell I was annoying him. But that didn’t stop me from rambling on further. Someone needed to knock this guy down a peg or two.
“It’s just loud noise and mindless screaming.”
“I can see why you have a job working with the public. So pleasant.”
“I get that a lot.” I tucked my long, dark hair behind my ear as we made our way down the mint-colored corridor. A few people lingered in the hall. They all smiled and nodded to him, and he returned the gesture as he urged me forward.
“Stay while we rehearse. Maybe you’ll change your mind,” he said simply as a man in thick, rimmed glasses opened a door and stepped back to let us through as I eyed the handle.
“I really can’t. I have a lot of work to do.”
“I could always tell Maric that you didn’t want to help out.”
“You’re an asshole.”<
br />
“I get that a lot.” He mocked me as we entered another hall and continued farther down. The sound of a guitar off in the distance played a slow, haunting tune that gave me chills. “That’s Hangman. He can’t pay attention enough to order a damn meal, but you put an instrument in his hands, and he’s genius.” Rellik smiled over at me. His lower lip was swollen and tinged red. He must have seen my worried expression because his tongue ran over his lip.
“It doesn’t hurt.” He reached out to open a door. The dried blood on his knuckles caused me to gasp, but blood and gaping wounds were nothing new to me. What was more shocking was that someone had gotten those wounds defending me, and I had been nothing but a bitch to him.
“I should clean that for you,” I said, and the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile as he pushed the door open. A man sat across the room on a couch with a guitar on his lap and a cigarette between his lips. His eyes were closed as he exhaled, cloaking himself in a thick haze of smoke. His fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, and I was in awe of his talent.
He had strong, angular features, and his hair was the color of sand with strands of honey throughout that hung haphazardly over his eyes. I inhaled and realized that what he was smoking was anything but tobacco.
“Hang, this is Ella,” Rellik called out. The guy’s red-rimmed eyes shot open, and he smiled. His fingers stopped, and he took the joint from his mouth, relaxing back on the couch.
“You took the time to learn her name. I’m impressed.”
“She’s not a groupie, asshole. In fact, she hates our kind of music.” Rellik’s voice was laced with amusement.
“Is that right?” The corner of his mouth curled up in a smile as he shook his head. “A challenge.”
“Where’s Phantom and Trigger?” As he spoke, my eyes darted around the room, but it was only the three of us behind a flimsy pressed-wood door.
“Ran to get munchies from the gas station.” He put the joint to his mouth and inhaled as he eyed me curiously. I tried not to stare at the large tribal tattoo that crept over his right shoulder and down his toned chest. He was in shape without an ounce of fat, but not as muscular as Rellik. “You wanna hit this?” he asked with a smile, and I struggled not to roll my eyes at the double entendre. He waved the joint in the air toward me as he exhaled. “It’s medicinal, I swear. It’s the only way I can put up with Rellik.” He winked and I felt my cheeks blush. “Something tells me you might need it.”
“Make yourself at home. It might help you relax.” Rellik stepped around me and walked to another guitar that was propped against the far wall. He picked it up by the neck and sat down on an oversized chair. I awkwardly stood next to the door as Hangman’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me. It probably wasn’t often a woman was standoffish with them.
Rellik strummed the acoustic guitar as he began to sing, low and gravelly. His eyebrows pulled together as if in pain as he continued. I forced myself to relax as I began to walk toward him. The anguish and torture in his voice spoke to me. It was like he had unraveled all of my secrets and strung them together, set to a slow, steady beat that kept in time with my pulse. It wasn’t anything like I expected from him after seeing how violent he could become just moments before.
Fighting away your fears, screams falling on deaf ears.
Heaven help what we’ve become.
Trampled and crushed dreams, nothing was what it seems.
Our world has come undone.
Hangman slid over to make room for me on the long couch, and I sat down, keeping my distance from him and a clear view of the door. He held out the joint again, and I reluctantly took it, nearly letting it slip through my shaky fingers. I looked to Rellik as I put it to my lips, sputtering and coughing as soon as the smoke filled my lungs. It felt like my chest was gripped in a vice, and I struggled, desperate for fresh air. I’d smoked weed before, but what I got was lawn clippings compared to this.
“Whoa.” Rellik grabbed a bottle of water from the stand beside the couch and held it out for me. I took it gratefully and guzzled it down. He continued playing, his voice like liquid honey, and my head began to swim as I handed the joint back to Hangman.
“So what’s your story?”
Baby, just let me in, I can wash away our sins.
I know no other way.
I looked to Rellik, who was watching me as he sang, and I had no idea what to say. It was a loaded question that was impossible to answer because I didn’t have an identity anymore.
“I’m a blank page.”
“Deep.” Hangman took another hit from the joint.
“So why do they call you Hangman?”
He raised his chin to the light so I could see the very faded scar that circled his neck. “Fucking intense, right?” He laughed, and I tried to keep the shock from my face.
The music stopped abruptly as two men entered, and I was glad for the end to the odd conversation.
“Look who decided to show,” the larger of the two said. He was well over six foot tall, and he must have worked out obsessively. A thick, black, paint stripe that matched his short hair ran down the length of his face just beside his nose, and it made him look absolutely terrifying.
“You knew I’d be back,” Rellik replied, blowing off the stern look from the tallest one. “Phantom, this is Ella.” He motioned to me, and the large man glanced in my direction, his eyes narrowing as if he knew me but couldn’t place me.
“Phantom.” I smiled. “Like Phantom of the Opera!”
“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” he said with no humor, and I realized he must have been the other man across the alley.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks to you,” Rellik chimed in, and Phantom gave him a death glare. “Not that I needed any help. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“I’m Trig,” the other man said. His hair was much like Hangman’s but brushed back so it didn’t hang in his eyes, and he wore a set of silver dog tags around his neck over a plain white T-shirt. All four of them wore weathered jeans. My eyebrows furrowed, but I couldn’t figure his name out. “As in Trigger.” He grabbed his dog tags to show me he had been in the military.
“Nice to meet you.” I cleared my throat before taking another drink from the water bottle. He nodded, and they both looked to Rellik.
“Your hands look like shit,” Trigger said.
“You should see the guy’s face, but to be fair, he wasn’t very pretty to begin with.” He glanced up at Trig with a playful grin absent of any remorse. The idea that he could brush off something like that made me envious and a little frightened.
Phantom ran his hand roughly through his short, dark hair, clearly frustrated with Rellik, but he didn’t say anything.
“Here.” Rellik dug into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle, tossing it to Trig. “You can’t just go off your meds, Trigger. You know your head gets all fucked up when you don’t take them.”
“What are you, my fucking mom now?” Trig asked as he shook his head, but his smile gave away that he appreciated the gesture. My eyes met Rellik’s, and I couldn’t help but smile myself as he cocked his eyebrow.
“One ugly mother,” Hangman joked, his laugh turning into a cough as he fell on his side.
“There’s got to be a first aid kit around here.” I was getting whiplash from Rellik’s personality.
“Don’t worry about it. We need to rehearse,” Rellik replied, and the room was silent for a minute before I pushed to my feet, water in hand, and searched out something I could use to help wipe away the dried blood. He clearly wasn’t accustomed to anyone taking care of him, and I could understand his apprehension.
“You’ve come over to the dark side. Tired of the bleach smell from those other bitches?” one of them said behind me, and I tried not to cringe at how they spoke as if I weren’t a person. Of course he was into dumb blondes. Did other women really tolerate this?
I grabbed some napkins and silently took mental note of
what type of females they generally hung out with, hating that my stomach sank when I looked down at my dark tresses. It was important to read people and learn everything about them as quickly as possible. It’s how you survived. You blend in, not stand out. Making the napkins damp, I crossed the room and knelt down in front of him. I looked up at him as I reached for his hand, and he let me pull it away from the guitar. I carefully ran it over his injured hand, and he tensed as I ran over a knuckle that was clearly swollen more than the others. The guys began to chat among themselves about the show, and Rellik leaned closer to me as I took his other hand.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“You didn’t have to help me either, but you did. It’s rare.” I hated to admit that I had needed him there. I scrubbed off as much of the blood as I could, and luckily most of it wasn’t his own. “That’s better.” I pushed to my feet and let go of his hand, his calloused fingertips sliding over mine. He had worked hard for what he has. It wasn’t handed to him. I wadded up the napkins and tossed them in a small trash bin along the wall. The guys all settled into the couch, and I sat in a folding chair along the wall as they began to go over their set list.
My brain was a fuzzy haze, and none of what happened tonight seemed real. But tomorrow I would have to face the consequences of what had transpired, as it would undoubtedly manifest into nightmares and anxiety. The unease began to spread. Panic settled deep in a knot in my belly and slowly spidered through my veins like poison. I began to count, whispering rapidly under my breath. I should have known better than to use drugs that only exacerbate paranoia and fear.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Rellik lifted the guitar from his lap and sat it on the floor beside him as he stood. “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice echoed in my mind. I stood, wobbling on my feet as I became lightheaded and panicked.
“I’m fine. I just…need some fresh air. I must have hit my head harder than I realized.”
Rellik Page 5