9. Evelyn
When Laszlo re-entered the club, he was cloaked in something malevolent, an aura that radiated out of him in waves. Anger, hatred, and something more dangerous.
My view of him was stolen by the blocky frame of Jimmy.
I cringed backwards into the booth. He was too close, and he didn’t let me retreat.
“Fuck, you really don’t have much to you, huh?” Jimmy said, sizing me up like a piece of meat. His large hand found my breast, and I swatted it away. He pushed me back, pinning me down as he groped me more brazenly.
My screams were silent.
I didn’t flinch.
The edges of my vision blurred until all I could see was pale flesh, red freckles, red hair, red lips. They were too fleshy, lanced with spittle. Ruddy, like blood filling my vision.
“It’s like feeling up a washboard,” he said to some thrum of laughter, and that emboldened him. He ripped my top open, my breasts exposed. The cruel cackle as he stared at me sent me into another realm. I was frozen in place, observing myself from the outside, begging my body to recoil.
Why wasn’t anyone doing anything?
Why wasn’t anyone stopping him?
“You need a real man to loosen you up,” said the redheaded creep. His arm was thick with muscle, and he held me in place, pinning my collarbone down. “He’ll like you better after that anyhow. Sloppy seconds!”
Jimmy was ripped away from me.
The room shook as he landed hard on the floor, a horrible crack splitting the air.
It happened too fast to see, and my brain struggled to piece it together.
Laszlo had Jimmy’s hand in his, one of Jimmy’s fingers hanging in a sickening position.
The redhead fought through the pain, getting back on his feet.
He swung at Laszlo, but it was dodged by the more dexterous man. Rage frothed in his mouth as he missed another punch, then another.
Jimmy spun around, stopped in his place by a massive bodyguard. Jimmy lifted his hand in protest, showing off his broken finger. “Look what that faggot did! I was tryin’ to help warm her up for him!” he spat.
Laszlo reached out for me, helping me up into a sitting position. He gingerly fixed my top the best he could, staring into my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Belle. Are you okay?”
I shook my head, and fury danced in Laszlo’s gaze. His back molars clicked, tension rising within him. He was intentional about his breathing, controlling something volatile within him.
“You keep your hands off her. She’s mine,” Laszlo said with an eerie calm to his voice that resonated a terrible energy.
“You can’t claim a girl you ain’t never fucked,” Jimmy whined.
Laszlo shot forward, grabbing Jimmy’s mangled hand. He twisted his finger back further, causing pain to jolt through his body, veins bulging in his neck. Before Jimmy’s next punch could land, Rurik broke it off with a simple, menacing stare.
Jimmy looked between the two men, then lowered his fist. He gave a snort, as if it had all been some little joke, a game between friends.
Rurik reached over towards Laszlo, making a gesture to calm down. Laszlo finally released Jimmy’s hand. He might not have been as strong as Jimmy, with raw muscle, but he broke that finger with ease.
“Sorry, Rurik. Sorry, Laszlo. She’s all yours,” Jimmy said with the most menacing grin I’d ever seen.
“That’s right. And if you touch her again, I will fucking end you.” Laszlo stared at him, not at all afraid of the bigger man. Jimmy was a furnace of aggression, but it withered under the intensity of Laszlo’s threat.
Jimmy looked away. Just like a dog fight, that was the signal that it was over.
For now.
Laszlo returned to me, offering his hand. I took it, and he guided me to my feet. I didn’t have enough time to sigh with relief before Jimmy’s poisonous voice polluted the air again.
“Laszlo’s gonna show us how it’s done then, huh?
After all, she’s his girl. I guess that’s fair.
He could’ve had two for a night, but he wants one for good, is that it?
” He leaned in towards Laszlo, hissing in his ear.
“Don’t worry, if you can’t get it up for a girl, we’ll show her how it’s done.
Me and the guys will run a train. You missed out last time. ”
I flinched with the intensity of emotions that flashed across Laszlo’s face. The vein in his temple throbbed aggressively. His hand flexed into a fist.
A dozen sets of eyes were on us. Laszlo. Me. Jimmy.
Nobody said anything. They didn’t laugh. There were no lewd jokes.
They then looked to their boss, to see if he would intervene, but Mr. Bodrov nodded, Fiona grinding in his lap.
Laszlo’s detached demeanour was melted with rage, a hint of a sneer on his beautiful face before he grasped my arm a bit tighter, helping me up.
“Come with me,” he said.
My eyes darted around the room, panicked as I tried to find Roxy. Most of the women had left, but Fiona’s thin lips twitched in a smirk as I was brought to my feet, a shrill giggle swallowed down with champagne.
“Thank you.” My knees were quaking, but Laszlo held me steady. “Are we leaving now?”
“No.” Sorrow filled his rich voice and dread coiled in my stomach. He guided me towards a semi-private alcove, the ones built into the wall with the upholstered booth.
I was grateful to be set back down, gulping for air. My head was light, but the looming presence of Jimmy and Rurik and Mr. Bodrov and the nameless others were an inferno, the thick smoke choking the oxygen from the room.
“Laszlo?” I was ashamed of how I sounded strained, childish, scared.
We didn’t have any privacy. Rurik loomed there like a totem between the other two men, with Jimmy leering on with a sadistic look on his face.
Laszlo had a strange energy about him. One tattooed hand went to my hair, stroked my hairline. It then fanned back, into the crown of my hair, and held my head possessively.
He leaned in, as if he were going to kiss my neck like the other guys always did to the girls.
But I didn’t feel his mouth on my neck.
Instead, I got his words in my ear, authoritative and stern.
“Belle, I need you to be a very good girl and submit. Do you understand?”
I had seen this before. There had been more ritual about it, back when I was a child, but the physicality, the scent, it was the same.
Arousal and heat and fear.
My body understood what my mind did not.
Laszlo’s patriarch had issued him an order to claim me.
Neither of us could disobey. The rules of the outside world were different, but the differences were set dressings.
Laszlo and I were mere puppets, operated by those with more power than us. He was my protector.
The realization was foggy, distant, but I nodded. He kissed my forehead.
Somewhere in the back of my mind was the echo of my earlier plan.
I needed to show Laszlo he could trust me. I wouldn’t betray him.
He was my lifeline, an escape from the Family.
He shed his jacket, and then it was my turn. He pushed my top down from one shoulder, exposing a breast which he immediately covered with his hand. Before I could say anything, his lips were on mine, and we were kissing.
My first kiss. He tasted sweet, and his tongue swiped along my lower lip. Our breathing was shared, the closeness electric, and it was terrifying.
Laszlo’s tall frame pressed into me, and it was both a protective barrier, and a crushing boulder on my chest.
We had not been wed, but we had to consummate our relationship.
“Stay with me, angel,” he murmured, and my eyes focused.
I had dreamed of this moment, with him. It was sinful, but in the hours of drawing his hands, I imagined how they’d feel on my breast, and now I knew.
Warm.
Firm.
Tender.
I had missed the point where he’d opened his pants.
It wasn’t until I felt his hand guiding mine to his lap, to feel that length of hot flesh, that I realized what he’d done.
And how fast this was all spiralling out of control.
His muscles coiled tight in his arm as he leaned over me.
I choked back a sob, swallowing it down with my dread, my disgust, my terror.
“I need you to touch me, angel. Get me hard,” he said into my ear secretly.
God’s eyes are everywhere, and what he enjoys most is seeing a bride submit wholly to her chosen husband. When she allows him to enter her, he is at his most Godly. It is in this moment, that a man finds the Voice of Aer and transcends his worldly flesh towards the Elysian promise beyond the veil.
The voice wasn’t my own, but it was, and it triggered something within me.
I sucked in air. Oxygen. The most important thing was survival, and I wouldn’t survive whatever Jimmy would do to me.
I could survive Laszlo.
Obedience was the key to eternal life.
And I could obey him, as if he were my husband.