Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Allison
Ifeel exposed, vulnerable, on display. The dress is Celeste’s and it’s clearly made for someone who is more comfortable showing a large amount of skin.
This is far from my normal wardrobe of soft sun dresses or comfortable sweaters.
The red fabric hugs my curves, the scarlet silk like a second skin.
The dress falls to my midthigh, leaving most of my pale legs completely uncovered.
Thank God, I shaved. The low cut neckline exposes the swell of my breasts in a way that makes me feel both self-conscious and self-assured.
My hair is curled and I have on more make up than I’ve ever worn in my life.
The fake eyelashes are heavy and weigh down my eyelids with each blink.
But I couldn’t care less. I feel sexy, empowered, and feminine.
It’s a strange mix of emotions. I stumble slightly in my strappy black heels but catch myself as I make my way up the walkway toward the front doors.
I remember the plan and my role within it. I am to enter the bar where Garett has spotted both Will and Erika. I will go to the bar and order a drink. I am not to let the drink out of my sight or hand, not even for a second. Even if I look away from it for a moment, I’m not to take another sip.
Garett filled me in before we came today—Will was Luke’s foster brother in high school.
He was popular, well liked, a jock. Everyone looked up to him, including my husband, Brody.
Apparently, Brody and his group of friends relentlessly bullied Garett and Luke in high school.
I didn’t even know, didn’t notice. I was so focused on survival, on blending in, that I had my head buried in the sand.
Will guided the group of bullies, helping them move from hazing to harassment to full-on criminal violence.
Apparently, Will always had a thing for videos, and Brody and his friends were all too happy to act in Will’s horrible films. I’ve been sick to my stomach since, thinking about the man my husband was when he wasn’t with me.
I’ve been married to a monster. And it took the Devil to set me free.
Luke and Garett made it very clear that drugging drinks is the way my husband, soon-to-be ex-husband, and his group of evil friends get control of the women they victimize—they slip them something while hanging out in bars or clubs, before that it was at parties.
They never drug the women enough to have them pass out, just enough to have the pliable.
They want the women awake. Apparently, that’s important for the videos they make.
I’m not to let Will or Erika anywhere near my drink.
Motherfuckers.
The fact that my husband has been doing this for years, since before he even met me, makes me sick to my marrow.
Women’s lot in life is to be chewed up and spit out by this patriarchal world, and I am so tired of it.
I ache for some type of escape, some type of authority to break the cogs of this societal machine of oppression.
And I want to start with my husband and his asshole friends.
Garett showed me enough videos, ones he’s collected from the internet as evidence over the years, to prove my husband’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.
I had to demand for Garett to show me. He was reluctant, always trying to save me, but he finally relented.
To watch the man I thought I knew, thought I loved, slapping and spitting on a drugged out girl while she sobs and begs for mercy was the worst experience of my life.
Then to watch him do it again, and again, and again, and again.
Video after video, girl after girl, being used and abused by the man I shared a house, a home, a name with—it’s filled me with more rage than I’m able to contain.
Which is what spurs me through the large double doors at the front of the casino. As soon as I’m inside, the smell of smoke pricks my senses. My eyes water. I hate casinos. They always give me a sad, decaying feeling, as if everyone in here is slowly wasting away.
The bar is another sad space filled with the unmistakable stench of hopelessness.
There are a few single men sitting on cracked and worn stools nursing beers in dirty glasses.
I immediately notice the people I’m here to see sitting in a booth in the corner.
Will is tall, imposing almost, even though he’s sitting.
His dirty blond hair is slicked back and his dark eyes scan the space expectantly.
A man like him sticks out like a sore thumb in a place like this.
Everything about him screams dangerous allure.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Shit, I was staring.
I remember Garett’s warning—appear to drink but don’t. Will is a predator, a smart predator. I have to be smarter.
“Sparkling water with lime in a highball glass, please.” It should look like a cocktail, hopefully.
The bartender gives me a strange look. I can tell he’s used to serving beers and nothing else, but he doesn’t protest as he wanders off.
My eyes flit over again to the booth across the room.
Will is talking to the girl next to him, Erika, I assume.
She looks similar to me, actually—red hair, pale skin, green eyes.
But there’s something lifeless about her, as if her soul had been sparked out long ago.
Her skin is graying and ashen; her eyes are hollow and empty.
Even her hair is limp. It’s like looking into a mirror of what would have happened if I’d let the pain of my past pull me under.
My eyes clash with a pair of dark irises. Sinister intent swirls in Will’s eyes as he catches me staring. His gaze is cold and calculating. It sends a shiver down my spine.
“I’d steer clear if I was you, miss,” the bartender says discreetly as he passes me my drink.
Wish I could.
But Garett hasn’t texted me yet. I need to keep Will’s attention long enough for them to grab Liv and get her out. I take a deep breath, remembering the pain I saw on the other young woman’s face. I can flirt for a moment if it means helping out someone who needs it.
“Thanks for the advice,” I respond before twisting on my stool.
I turn to face Will, crossing one leg over the other in what I hope is a seductive way.
He smirks before standing. He runs his large hands down his lapels before fastening one button of his jacket.
The man oozes confidence and authority. I can see how women easily find themselves prey caught in his web.
“You’re new around here,” Will says as he comes up beside me and leans against the bar.
“I am new.” I try to sound cool and calm despite the thunderous beat of my heart.
Erika slinks along behind Will. Her steps are uneven and wobbly as if she’s already fucked up. I wonder how much pain she’s trying to bury under drugs and alcohol.
“Who’s this cunt?” she asks as she slides up next to Will and lays her hand possessively on his shoulder. Her nails are long and red and sharp.
I must make a face because she glares harder and Will chuckles. “Be nice to our new friend, Erika,” he warns as he shrugs off her hand. His eyes roam possessively over my curves. I feel dirty under his hungry stare.
“Friend?” I ask as I take another drink. “I don’t even know your name. I’m not your friend.” I flip my hair over my shoulder and turn my eyes away.
Will’s hand is heavy and warm on my bare thigh as he grabs my leg to spin me back toward him. I begin to flinch at his touch but stop myself. I’m supposed to be luring him in, but everything in me is screaming to get away from this man.
“See, baby,” Erika croons as she wraps herself around Will like a worm. “She’s a bitch.” She leans in toward Will’s ear and whispers the next words so low I can barely hear them, “Plus, we already have a plaything upstairs.”
Will turns and glares at his companion, the monster beneath the charming mask flashing for just a moment. It’s a warning, he wants her to back off.
“I’m Will,” he says as his hand moves further up my thigh, skimming the edge of my dress. “I manage the bar and casino. And this is my associate, Erika.”
His voice is smooth and sweet, but beneath it there’s something sinister. I see why he has to have girls inebriated to get in their pants—he screams red flags. Smart women everywhere would stay the fuck away from this creep.
“You’re quite beautiful,” he continues when I don’t respond.
His fingers slide further and further up my thigh until he’s so close to touching me where I least would like his fingers.
“You and my friend here bear a striking resemblance, too.” He leans in, his free hands brushing hair off my shoulder as his cool breath slides across my skin.
“Have you ever been with a woman before? You two could almost pass as twins. People love twins.”
I have the urge to smack him, to knee him in the balls, to take his wandering fingers and snap them until I hear them pop.
But I think of the girl on the video—alone and hurt. I can do this. I’m strong. I can play pretend a moment longer.
“Been with a woman?” I whisper back, slurring slightly to sound as if I’ve been drinking. “Like, been with one?”
I let his lips caress my neck, his hand caress my thigh, and while my blood is on fire with fury at this disgusting excuse for a man, I let my body relax into his touch.
Erika slides up to my other side, catching onto the plan.
Her hand lands on my hip, her lips caress my shoulder in small kisses.
No one in the bar even bats an eye. They sit by absentmindedly as two predators lure me into a web.
I’m angry—angry at the complacency of those around us.
Women deserve to have value and worth in this world.
“I could eat your cunt so good you’d see stars,” Erika coos into my ear as Will’s fingers slide against my very dry panties. “It’d be all about you and your pleasure, sweet thing.”
“I just came to have a drink.” I can feel the blush rising in my cheeks despite myself. These two are evil—pure and simple.
They don’t give up that easily, though.
“We could make you feel good,” Will croons as his fingers continue their gentle caress between my thighs.
My mind can wrap itself around this plan, but my body doesn’t lie.
I’m tense; my entire form is clenching in unease with every pass of his fingers.
He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about my discomfort.
“Have some drinks, relax, make each other feel so very good.”
My phone chirps in my purse that’s slung over the back of the bar stool. It’s my signal. I need to leave.
Now.
If Garett flips back through the cameras and sees Will touching me, there will be no stopping the chaos which will ensue.
Part of me feels like I’ve just met Garett, but a deeper part of me feels as though I’ve known him for lifetimes.
But I know for certain that he absolutely would not want Will touching me.
“No, thank you.” I try to shrug them off but they twist around me tighter, like snakes constricting. “I actually think I’ll be going now.”
I shove at their fingers and hands, but they hold tighter. Unease begins to swirl in the pit of my stomach. I want to get out of here right now.
“What’s the rush, Ali?” Will asks as his fingers dig painfully into my thigh. I cry out at his bruising touch. The bartender’s eyes flick to me briefly before he spins and heads in the opposite direction.
Fucking coward.
“I didn’t give you my name,” I grit out between clenched teeth. Unease grows more and more as I realize I fell into their trap.
“You didn’t need to, Allison.” Will’s hand moves from my thigh to around my throat.
He squeezes painfully and tears prick my eyes.
Erika laughs as she watches on. “You think you could walk into my space, playing stupid games, and I wouldn’t catch on?
You stupid fucking slut.” He grips tighter.
My air cuts off and my lungs burn. I begin to panic, clawing at his fingers.
He doesn’t relent. “Sent here by your husband to spy on me?”
My husband?
Realization hits me instantly. He thinks Brody sent me here. Why the fuck would Brody send me? Did something happen between them? I nod in agreement, hoping to throw him off the scent of Luke and Garett.
“Tell Brody that I am working on his stupid fucking charges but Garett’s security is top notch. It’s going to take time to get the evidence he wants,” Will seethes in my ear.
My husband hired this psycho to prove that Garett kidnapped Celeste and not him. He’s been trying to counter hack Garett. But he’s failed. Despite my nerves, a small sense of satisfied pride swells inside me. I nod again, unable to speak with how tightly he’s choking me.
“Good girl,” Will snarls in my ear before releasing my throat. He roughly spins my stool and shoves me.
I stumble, almost falling, before catching myself. Swiftly, I grab my purse and run. I don’t stop and I don’t look back as I head for the light streaming in through the large front doors.