The silence was disrupted by the sound of the main entrance banging shut. I sat up a little straighter, staring out the office door but unable to see who it was. A smile broke over my face because I knew it was probably Adam.
I couldn’t wait to show him my surprise.
I left the desk and rushed out of the office. I made it two steps into the main room before I halted in shock.
It wasn’t Adam.
It was Craig.
And he wasn’t alone.
He looked horrible, the worst I’d ever seen him. His dark hair was greasy and unwashed, standing up around his head in great clumpy spikes. His T-shirt and jeans were dirty, ripped, and hung off his thinner frame. But what was most concerning was the state of his face.
It was battered and beaten.
Clearly, he’d been injured badly. Both eyes were blackened, one was slightly puffy, and there was an angry welt slashing through one of his eyebrows. His lips were cracked and dried. He had a huge yellowing bruise on his jaw. His nose was swollen and crooked like it was broken. Actually, he had a lot of ugly yellowing bruises on his face. I wondered what the rest of his body looked like under his clothes.
“You can’t be here,” I told him. “I have a restraining order.”
“First I’ve heard of it,” he said, giving me a squinty angry look.
“Leave.”
“Did you think I’d just accept the fact you didn’t show?” he said, stepping forward. The other two men hung in the background.
“The bouncer is going to be here any minute.” I lied. Maybe if he knew someone was on their way, he’d get out while he could.
“No, he isn’t.” Craig snarled. “I’ve been watching you, you stupid bitch. You’ve been shacking up all week with that guy who owns the place. I always knew you were screwing him.”
I gasped. “I was not.” I stayed faithful to him always, even when I shouldn’t have.
“We’ll see if he still wants you once you’re screwing on camera.”
I straightened my spine. “I told you. I am not doing that movie.” I wasn’t going to have this conversation either. I spun on my heel and went back into the office to get my phone. I was calling the cops. They could haul him in for violating the restraining order.
Craig moved fast, grabbing onto my arm and whipping me around. My knee caught in the chair that sat in front of the desk and it buckled. I didn’t fall because Craig yanked me up and dragged me back out into the bar.
“Look at me!” he roared. “All these bruises, the broken bones… you did this to me.”
“No,” I said, trying to steady myself on my feet.
“These people, they want their money. They want their movie. This…” He gestured toward his battered face. “This was just a warning.”
“You shouldn’t have made a deal with people like that.”
He slapped me. The sharp sound of his hand against my cheek reverberated throughout the room. I let my hair fall over my face and conceal me from view as I composed myself. Then I glanced up and looked at the men who were in the room.
How could they stand by and watch this?
I recognized one of them. It was the man Adam threw out of the bar over a week ago. It was the same guy I’d seen in here before, the one who was always watching me.
Oh my God, did he only come here to spy for Craig?
I glanced at the other man, wondering if I recognized him as well, but I didn’t. ‘Course, I could barely concentrate on his features when I was so distracted by the large camera in his grip. It had a large spotlight attached to the top of it and looked like it probably weighed about ten pounds.
A sick feeling wormed its way inside me.
“What do you want?” I whispered to Craig.
“I want what you owe me,” he growled. “And I’m here to collect.”
“No.” My voice wavered.
He motioned for the guy with the camera, and the man hoisted it up on his shoulder, and the blinding spotlight clicked on and shined in my eyes.
“What better place to film an adult film that on the stage of a strip club?” Craig mused.
He thought I was just going to perform right here, right now because he slapped me? No way in hell.
I rushed for the office door again and he gave chase, shoving me from behind. I hit the desk and slid across it, scattering most of what was on it onto the floor.
My cell being one of those things.
I scrambled up to lunge for it, but he caught me by the ankle and spun me around, dragging me across the desk. He jumped on me, pinning me to the wooden top, and stared down at me with angry eyes.
Who was this man?
He was so different than the boy I’d met at seventeen.
“You will do this, and when you do, I’ll walk away.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked, struggling against him.
“I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill him.”
I started to scream. I swung at him, my fist connecting with his jaw, and his head snapped back. I used the momentary distraction to roll out from beneath him. I fell onto the floor, but I kept moving. My phone was just feet away so I scrambled over. Just as my hand closed around it, Craig jabbed his foot into my rib.
The air whooshed out of me, and I sprawled across the floor onto my stomach. The sharp pain in my middle caused me to groan.
“That’s it, bitch. Make those sounds in the film.”
I sat up and glared at him. “I’ll never do it willingly.”
He appeared as though a light bulb came on over his head. “Even better.”
He grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged me out into the bar. The cameraman trained the camera on us.
“You ready?” he asked the man who used to sit in the bar and stare.
“Oh, I’ve been ready.”
Oh. My. God. Was this the man I was supposed to sleep with in the video? Chunky bile rose up in my throat.
“She’s not too willing,” Craig said. He made it sound amusing.
The man with the camera smirked. “You know how much money perverts pay for a rape fantasy video? This will pull in a shit ton of money.”
They planned to stand here and watch and record this animal raping me and then sell the video for profit?
I’d rather be dead.
I started fighting.
Craig had a hold of my hair so I punched out with my fist and hit him in the side. He made a wheezing sound and released me. I realized I was gripping my phone. I dialed 9-1-1 and hit SEND. Before the operator could answer, the phone was knocked out of my hand and it slid across the floor and under the table.
“Get her,” Craig ordered my stalker.
The man I recognized from the bar was wearing jeans and a wife-beater tank top. He gave me a sick grin and stalked forward. I ran to put the nearest table between us. He kept coming.
“You’re going to like it,” he said. “Fighting me will only make it better.”
I gagged and grabbed up a chair that was upside down on the table. I didn’t have much arm strength, but I launched the chair over the table at him.
He dodged it easily.
“I like a woman with some spunk,” he said, still coming closer.
I started screaming again, yelling for help, and I made my way around the room. I needed to get to my phone, but he was in front of it. Then I remembered the phone behind the bar. I rushed forward, skittering across the floor and behind the bar. My hand closed around the closest bottles of liquor, and I threw them at the man pursuing me.
Craig and the cameraman just stood back and watched like this was the best show they’d ever seen.
A sob ripped from my throat as the man leapt over the wooden bar.
I picked up the phone, but he snatched it out of my hand and dropped it on the ground. His viselike arm went around my waist and lifted me off the ground so my legs were dangling in the air.
He carried me back around the bar, the broken glass crunching beneath his feet. I was kick
ing and screaming and clawing at his arm. Still he did not let go.
“This one’s a little hellcat,” he said, directing his words to the camera.
He threw me down on the table and leapt at me, forcing his way between my legs. “No!” I screamed, punching him.
He grabbed my wrists and pinned my arms above my head. With his free hand, he took a handful of my top and yanked, the soft fabric gave way and I heard the seams ripping.
Cool air brushed over my chest as it heaved.
Fat tears rolled across my cheeks as a rough hand gripped my breast and groped it coarsely. He started thrusting his jean-clad hips into me, dry-humping me while I screamed.
He tore away the lace of my bra and snatched my nipple between his finger and thumb and pinched it so hard I cried out.
He grunted and slammed his hips into me. I could see the bulge in his jeans, and it made me sick.
I tried to kick him. I tried to roll away. The more I struggled, the harder he squeezed my breast.
His hand finally released my bruised flesh, but he still pinned my wrists. His free hand reached for the buckle on his jeans.
“Please, no,” I whimpered.
“I like a woman who begs.” He grunted. He undid his jeans and shoved them down over his hips. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his penis sprang out and pointed to my body.
I started crying.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe Craig would go so far as to watch me get raped.
My rapist took a moment to stroke his cock, rubbing it back and forth and then dragging it along my clothed core.
I scissored my legs closed and tried to buck him off. He spanked me, leaving my ass burning.
Fight, Roxie, fight!
I could not let them do this to me.
“Drag her to the stage,” Craig ordered, his voice cold and lacking emotion. The man kicked off his jeans completely and then pulled me off the table. My knees threatened to buckle, but I held strong. I prepared to kick him, but before I could, he threw me over the table again, stomach side down, and ground his raging hard-on against my ass.
I screamed.
He reached beneath me and I recoiled, his hands on me was the most disgusting thing I’d ever experienced. I felt the buckle on my jeans give way and the zipper slide down. I threw my head back and the crown of my head slammed into his face. He grunted and stumbled back. I rushed away as pieced of my ruined, tattered shirt trailed behind me.
I ran into the office, knowing I could call for help with the landline and then at least barricade myself until the police arrived.
The rush of feet followed along behind me, but I didn’t turn to see. I heard Craig ordering the cameraman not to miss a thing, and I heard the grunts of pain from the man who was trying to rape me. I made it inside the office and grabbed the door.
I swung it closed as my attacker charged, blood rushing from his nose.
Like a linebacker, he slammed into the door, bursting it open and splintering the wood. I went flying back and hit my head on the edge of the desk. My body folded and fell onto the floor as pain exploded in my skull.
Rough hands grabbed me. I was thrown onto the desk.
I felt my clothes being ripped off my body and my legs shoved apart.
Inside I was screaming, fighting, and dying of horror. On the outside, I felt fuzzy and sluggish.
“Get her tits again,” someone said in the background.
I felt rough hands grab my breasts and pull them away from my body. He was so rough. Not at all the way Adam was.
Adam.
My eyes sprang open and a jolt of clarity came rushing through my head.
“No!” I roared and slid my body across the desk. The rough hands followed me.
I remembered the gun in the bottom of the desk drawer.
I let my arm fall down over the edge of the desk as a set of teeth closed over one of my nipples. I cried out in pain and pulled the drawer open. My hand closed around the gun.
Point and shoot. Adam’s words floated through my head with quiet clarity.
I swung up my arm and took aim at the man who was getting ready to spread my legs and rape me.
And then I pulled the trigger.
32
Adam
I called the cops the day after Roxie told me everything. I had a buddy on the force, a guy I’d known for several years, and I told him everything.
Later that day, we went down to the station and I had Roxie fill out papers and make a statement. A protective order was being issued and that scum bucket wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near Roxie.
I didn’t think he was the type of guy to follow the order, but so far it worked to keep him out of my club so I hoped it might help.
But in reality, that paper was just insurance that when Craig came around, he’d be breaking another law.
A week went by and every night Roxie was in my bed. I’d grown so accustomed to having her there with me I was dreading when she would go back to her own apartment. I thought about asking her to move in permanently, but I knew it was too soon. I had to be smart about this.
I was determined that this relationship was going to last.
I was going to do this right, take things slow. I was going to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that we were meant to be together and I would never hurt her.
Plus, I figured I should wait until she was able to tell me she loved me before we lived together. It would be years if I ever asked her to marry me, but I’d come to realize that marriage itself didn’t matter. It was the commitment between two people. It was the unwavering love that mattered most.
It was kind of liberating to realize that. To know that I’d finally found someone who I didn’t have to prove she was the one to myself. I didn’t have to get married to convince myself we’d be together forever.
We would be.
I glanced at the clock. There was still over an hour before the Hatter II opened. It was doing well so far. The first couple nights we opened the place had been packed. I was going to work my ass off to make sure it stayed that way.
My cell rang, and I snagged it up, hoping it was Roxie. One glance at the screen told me it wasn’t. It was my lawyer.
“This is Adam,” I answered.
“Adam, it’s Sherman,” the man on the other line spoke.
“Sherman,” I said, sitting back in my chair and wondering how much this call was going to cost me. Sherman was the best lawyer and well worth the money, but fuck, he was expensive. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
“I don’t have very good news, I’m afraid,” Sherman spoke.
I sat up a little straighter. “What?”
“I was contacted by the PD a few moments ago. It seems they are having trouble locating Craig Ascott. They have been unable to serve him with the protective order.”
Fear spiked in my veins and my heart began thumping a little harder. “What do you mean they can’t find him?” I cried. “It’s been a goddamned week!”
“Yes, well,” Sherman said, clearing his throat. “It seems they’ve tried contacting him daily and all attempts have turned up empty.”
What the fuck was he up to? I knew he wasn’t dead. I couldn’t be that lucky.
“They said they would keep attempting, but they are beginning to suspect he left town.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Thanks for the call, Sherman.”
“I’ll let you know if and when he is found.”
I disconnected the call and slammed the phone on the desk. I didn’t like knowing no one knew what he was doing. I thought the cops had this under control.
I thought about Roxie over at the club by herself. She needed to know so she could be extra cautious. I grabbed my keys and phone and jogged out to my car.
As I pulled out of the lot, I called Ty. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, boss.”
“Ty,” I said. I didn’t have time for pleasantries. “Can you come in to wor
k early? Roxie’s been working there all week before we open. I don’t like her being there alone. I’ll increase your wages if you can start coming in early to cover security while she’s there.”
“Sure, boss. Anything for Miss Roxie.”
He was as southern as they came. He respected women and he was tough as nails.
“I really appreciate this, Ty.”
“I appreciate the raise,” he said.
I laughed. “I’ll see ya in a bit.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and then the line went dead.
Next I punched Roxie’s number into my cell. I needed to hear her voice.
Her voicemail picked up on the first ring. I pulled the phone back and looked at it. Then I tried to call her again. Same thing.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood and my foot pressed down on the gas. She was probably just on the line with a supplier or something. She was probably working her ass off, and I was being paranoid.
Still, I didn’t slow down.
I broke all the traffic laws on my way to the Mad Hatter. I figured if a cop saw me, he could chase me all the way to the bar. His services might be needed.
But no police officer fell into the path behind me, and I made it to the bar in record time.
As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a black Honda sitting by the entrance. Beside it was a red car.
Craig’s car.
My tires squealed when I slammed the brakes and got out of the car, leaving it running. He was in there with Roxie and they weren’t alone.
Adrenaline and sheer fear almost stopped my body from breathing.
And then a gunshot tore through the air.
33
Roxie
The bullet hit my attacker and his body jerked back. I used the moment to scramble up off the desk and stand on shaky legs.
The man I shot stared up at me with wide, shocked eyes as his hand slowly came up to cover the red blooming out across his chest.
I gripped the gun, finger still on the trigger, all too willing to shoot him again.
But it wasn’t necessary.
He crumpled to the floor and didn’t get back up.
In the doorway, the cameraman stood there in shock, his jaw slack as the bright light on top of the camera shined in my eyes.
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