Chapter 29
The rest of the night goes by quickly, my aching feet the only reminder of how long I have been standing behind the bar.
The club has started to wind down, and only a few stragglers are left behind, watching the stage with glazed eyes. A few others are in the private dance rooms, but for the most part the bar is quiet, and I find myself tidying up and getting ready to leave for the night.
I look at my phone as it vibrates on the bar, the time showing it’s just before 3a.m.
I text Jax letting him know that I’m almost done and will be waiting for him by the front doors in fifteen minutes.
I get a text back immediately confirming that he’ll be here then.
I smile at the thought of seeing him soon, a familiar need stirring between my legs as I remember exactly what he promised awaits me after my shift.
Greg saunters over to me, staring at the bright screen of his phone.
“On your phone during work hours, are we, Evi?” he says, looking up from his own screen.
I roll my eyes. “Same could be said for you, hey Greg?”
“I’m the boss when Mike is away, so the rules don’t apply to me,” he states with an air of superiority.
I scoff, resuming my task of putting away the freshly washed glasses that line the wooden counter in front of me.
“Since it’s your first shift back, I’ll give you a free pass on the attitude you’ve had all night.”
I do my best to ignore his comment as I focus on my work, wanting nothing more than to finish my shift and go home. Well, to Jax’s home.
He stares at his phone screen again, distracted by the constant buzz of incoming texts.
I catch him glancing my way quickly as I polish the glasses. “Your shift is done in five minutes. Go take the garbage out back and then you’re good to leave,” he orders.
I place the glass in my hand down firmly on the counter, realizing how much I miss Mike running the place.
It’s only temporary, I say to myself silently as I grab the garbage bag and head to the back exit.
I push my body against the metal door, stumbling slightly in my heels as I try to open it with one hand while carrying the heavy bag in the other. I step outside and can’t help but shiver as the cold air hits my exposed skin. The metal door slams shut behind me, the sound echoing into the dark night.
I walk across the empty gravel lot towards the dumpster, sitting the bag down beside it before turning around to make my way back to the building. A gust of wind sweeps past me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up and the ivy on the side of the building to dance menacingly in the moonlight, its shadows swirling on the ground below.
I cross my arms in front of my body, trying to ward off the cold as I walk back to the door, the gravel shifting under my feet.
I freeze, thinking I hear a footstep out of sync with my own. My chest is tight with dread as fear takes a hold of me. I feel my heart beating rapidly as I turn around quickly, half expecting to find someone standing behind me. Relief washes over me as I see nothing except the empty lot behind the building. My shoulders relax as I scan the trees in the distance, their branches sway in the wind, and it only takes me a moment to realize the plastic garbage bags fluttering noisily in the breeze is what I heard.
I breathe a sigh of relief, quietly cursing my overactive imagination as turn around and take a step towards the brick building again.
My body jerks to a sudden halt as I collide with something solid in front of me. The impact knocks the wind out of me and my mind reels in shock as I try to make sense of what just happened.
My heart starts racing as I take in the sight before me, my eyes slowly working their way up a tall figure dressed in all black. My brain tries to convince me that this is Jax standing in front of me, that no one else would be out here at this time of night. But his body is all wrong; the silhouette in front of me is similar—but not the same—as the one I have come to love. My breath is shaky as my gaze lands on the masked face in front of me and a loud, urgent voice screams inside my head.
Run.
I push away from the figure in front of me, panic making my moves frantic as I turn around and run. Adrenaline courses through my body as a scream works its way up in my mouth, but before I can sound the alarm something catches under my feet, and I find myself falling forward, the gravel rushing up to meet me.
My body jolts with pain as the small, sharp rocks bite into my flesh, and my knees and arm take most of the impact. I’m unable to register the extent of my injuries as I scramble forward, clawing at the ground as I desperately try to create space between me and the heavy footsteps walking towards me. The cold laughter that sounds behind me sends a shiver through my body as I try frantically to get away, but frustration weighs on me as my heels keep sliding on the loose gravel, making it nearly impossible to move with the speed I need. I feel as though I’m in a nightmare, moving painfully slow toward my escape.
Think Evi, think.I try to assess my surroundings, looking for some miracle to get me out of here. I try to think of what I learned in the self-defense class I took all those years ago with Sam. But the panic within me doesn’t allow me to think of anything except get out of here.
The strap on my right heel breaks and my bare foot presses against the ground, finally allowing me to gain enough traction to leap forward, and I feel as though I might have a chance at escape as I start to run away.
For a split second, time stands still, and I feel the impact before I register what’s happening. Something crashes into my body from the side, sending me hurtling towards the ground and knocking the wind from my lungs. My head cracks against the ground, the pain reverberating throughout my skull, and I’m not sure if the stars I’m seeing are the ones in the sky or a result of the impact. My chest heaves as I desperately try to gulp in air, but I’m unable to with the weight pressing down on me.
I feel trapped in my own body, unable to move, unable to cry, unable to breathe, until the person who tackled me shifts their weight, and my lungs expand enough to fill with cold air as the smell of cologne invades my nose.
My hand reaches for my chest as if I need to feel it rise and fall to believe that I’m actually breathing. A sob escapes my lips. Everything hurts, and nothing but fear is coursing throughout my body.
Another laugh comes from behind the mask, and a deep male voice I don’t recognize begins to speak. “This would be a lot easier if you stopped trying to get away, you know.”
Panic sets in again and I thrash against his body weight, my dress riding up impossibly high. I push against him, but he grabs my hands, pinning them beside me so only my legs can move. The scream that has built up inside of me finally loosens, sending what I hope is a beacon for someone to find me, to rescue me. But all too quickly strong hands in black gloves cover my mouth and nose.
My eyes widen in panic at my oxygen being cut off, and I spiral into a frenzied struggle. With my hands no longer trapped, I frantically reach for his face, scratching and clawing as I try to break away from the hands trapping me. A second later, I feel my nails connect with flesh, and the scream that passes through his lips confirms I hit something sensitive.
“You stupid fucking bitch!” he screams, as his hands dart to his eyes. My lungs burn as I gulp in as much air as I can. “You made me bleed.” He seethes. He’s back on me before I can move, his hand damp with blood now wrapped tightly around my neck.
He leans in, his voice barely above a whisper.
“An eye for an eye.” His laugh is menacing as he reaches under my dress. I fight against him as his hand scratches up my thigh. I am so focused on trying to fight his movements that I barely hear the voice behind us.
“Stop,” the voice commands. The guy on top of me doesn’t heed his instructions, and my underwear rips as he violently tries to pull them down.
A whimper is the only noise I can make, and I feel the fight leaving me as exhaustion sets in and fear starts to paralyze me. How long have I been fighting him? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?
I turn my head in the direction of the voice and come face to face with a pair of scuffed combat boots. My eyes trail up to find the shadowy figure looming over me, their features completely concealed by a dark mask as well.
“Jesus Christ, Tanner, stop,” the voice from above says quickly. “You’re just going to make it worse for yourself.”
The guy on top of me—Tanner—pauses, his hands precariously close to the center of my thighs. I tremble underneath him, unable to speak but silently begging for this to end, my eyes staring at the bright moon above us as if somehow the light could save me.
“She keeps fucking fighting me, Bryce!” He growls. “I’m fucking bleeding because of her.” The hand on my throat tightens and blackness starts to creep into my vision, the light of the moon now obscured by the darkness of the scene playing out in front of me.
“We don’t have time for this Tanner,” he says, worry evident in his voice. “We need to go now.”
“Fuck!” He grunts, his hands finally releasing my leg and loosening from around my throat.
I gulp air as relief floods through me at his retreat, my throat aching from his unforgiving grip. As the seconds pass the darkness starts to retreat from the corners of my vision, and a glimmer of hope flutters in my chest as neither of the men move. My eyes are fixed on Tanner still kneeling in front of me, as I gather the strength to make a run for it, waiting for any sudden movement that might signal another attack.
Caught up in watching him I don’t even see the boot coming until it connects with my skull, and the world around me goes dark.