Chapter Two
Chloe
I worked more shifts than anyone, knew how to make every cocktail, and could recite each regular’s favorite drink by memory.
Although I was still one of the youngest, I’d been here longer than most. And I’d been doing everything I could to stay invisible and irreplaceable behind the bar so Bruce wouldn’t pull me out to do ‘other things,’ like he’d been suggesting for years.
Not everyone ended up in the basement, getting prepped for the auctions. But anyone who stepped on that stage risked becoming someone’s new obsession. And for the right price, any girl could be taken to the private rooms, which wasn’t any better.
So working at the bar, behind a mask and under dim lights, was the safer place to be. Sure, it meant paying off my debt slower, but in a place like this, being invisible was better than being profitable. And so far, it had been working.
I hurried to throw on my winter coat, covering my nearly naked body as I shut the door, finally shutting out the desperate eyes of lonely men and their filthy comments.
I breathed in the freezing air, welcoming all the familiar street smells into my lungs and the cold biting at my skin, a reminder of just how relentless New York winters could be.
But I loved the sensation. It had become a ritual, because as long as I could still feel it, no matter how fucked up my life was, it meant I’d survived another night.
I checked my phone to see if Malia had called or texted, although I knew she’d be asleep by now. Still, I couldn’t help myself; I always looked when my shift ended, just in case. Only then would I start walking.
It was late, but the city didn’t care. People still rushed from one place to another, horns were still blaring all around it.
That was the thing about Manhattan, there were always signs of life, always a million lights on, and cars crawling down every street.
I loved being outside. And maybe I loved it because I hated going back to the same empty place I called home.
Home…
The word was so foreign. It was hard to understand how others said it so warmly, so longingly, when I’d never had one. My ‘home’ while growing up had been more like a well, deep, dark, and full of bad memories.
We’d been so neglected that I vividly remember stealing bruised apples from the neighbor’s trash, hiding them under the bed so my baby sister, Malia, would have something extra to eat during the day.
She always refused to eat it at first, but I made her.
I had to keep her alive. More than that, I needed her strong enough to be able to fight or run if she had to because we never knew who Dad would bring home, or when Mom would forget to turn off the stove again.
Both my parents were addicts to different poisons, but addicts, regardless.
Mother had struggled with depression, living off the high the pills gave her.
And my father, addicted to alcohol, women, and gambling, couldn’t afford half of his vices, but that didn’t stop him from falling into them anyway.
Not when he was sober, even less so when he was drunk.
And when his bad decisions finally caught up with him, he didn’t have to pay the price.
I did.
I rarely thought of my parents anymore; they were just two people I hadn’t seen since the day they’d thrown me into a vile man’s arms, a stranger who’d forced me to sell my body for him. But that specific night returned many times in dreams.
The way Bruce yanked me from my mother’s arms, and the way it made me feel like paper splitting in two.
The way Malia’s tiny fingers dug into my forearm as he shoved me into his van.
The way my father sat on the stairs, crying, but doing nothing to stop it.
Not one goddamn thing.
Thanks to them, I hadn’t had a childhood, and my adulthood had been nothing but making sure my little sister got to have hers.
And it had been eight years. I couldn’t say Bruce was a stranger anymore.
In his own twisted way, he’d taken care of me, even letting me live alone in one of his apartments instead of making me sleep backstage like I did at the start.
For some reason, he’d always treated me differently than the others, as if he’d grown attached or something…
and I hated how part of me felt grateful to receive his scraps dressed up as kindness.
But I knew it could be a lot worse and it wasn’t like I had a choice.
Suddenly, a crash made me jump, breaking through my thoughts.
I instinctively pulled my coat tighter around my neck, stepping over the shards of glass from the bottle someone hurled in my path, reminding me of the kind of people who started filling the streets at this hour.
This was Manhattan, but I didn’t live in one of those neighborhoods people dreamed about.
Here, the streetlights flickered, barely illuminating the graffiti-covered walls and overflowing trash bins.
“Hey, beautiful! Come here for a second, sweetheart.”
“Mannnn! Look at those legs!”
The ‘compliments’ flew by me as I passed by a group of lowlifes. I picked up the pace, not stopping until I turned the corner and saw the bus stop only a block away. Relief flooded my veins. But then, the blood in them turned cold again.
Two silhouettes stood ahead, unmistakably two men, right where I had to pass to reach the bus stop. They looked somewhat young, dressed in regular sporty clothes, chatting casually, looking normal enough. But why do I always expect them to be dangerous just because they’re men?
Keep walking, Chloe, I kept repeating to myself. You’re just being paranoid.
I braced myself and kept walking with my head down, instantly aware of their eyes on me the moment I passed.
My stomach knotted, my heartbeat picking up despite telling myself to ignore it.
When I finally reached the bus stop, I pressed my back against the glass and grabbed the collar of my coat, pulling it tighter around my neck hoping it would somehow make me invisible.
But that was when the guy with brown hair jutted his chin in my direction and with that they started walking, shortening the distance too quickly. Shit, shit, shit. Why did I stop here?
“Well, well…” One of them spoke, both circling me. “What do we have here?”
Pretending not to hear, I reached for my phone, hoping if they thought I was talking to someone, they’d back off. I unlocked the screen, but my fingers froze at a presence looming over me. A chill crawled up my spine. When I looked up, my eyes found the glassiest eyes I had ever seen in my life.
He was older than either me or his friend, who was now standing next to me, caging me in like a mouse backed into a corner without escape. I swallowed hard, barely remembering how to breathe.
Before I could process what was happening, he ripped my coat open and both of them eyed my glittery outfit with surprise and then, recognition.
“Holy shit!” The younger one gasped. “Isn’t she one of Bruce’s girls or something?”
“Get your hands off me, or Bruce will know about this!”
I tried to push past them but they didn’t let me.
The older guy chuckled, pushing me back against the glass so hard it rattled. He leaned in closer, his body blocking any chance of escape.
“Hm. But I don’t see Bruce around.”
I jerked away from his touch, “Lay a hand on me, and I swear—”
“What?” he interrupted with a sickening sneer that made my skin crawl, so close I could feel it hot against my cheek. “You’re a hot sassy bitch, aren’t you?”
His hand reached for my face, taking a strand of my long, black hair, bringing it to his nose.
“Mmm…” he growled, inhaling my scent like a psychopath. “Two minutes ago I just wanted to shove my cock into that beautiful mouth of yours and ruin it, but now…” His voice dropped as his fingers kept twisting and tangling around my hair. “Now, I’m having other ideas.”
The younger guy shifted nervously. “Maybe we should let her go, man. Bruce is—”
“Shut the fuck up,” the older one snarled, not taking his eyes off me.
My eyes widened, adrenaline surging with impossible speed.
My hands slammed into his chest, pushing him. “Back off!”
I turned to slap the other guy but a brutal force stopped me, a hand snapped out to squeeze my throat pressing my head hard against the glass. My grip moved to his wrist, desperate to remove his hands, as my bones cried out in pain from the impact.
“Damn she fights!” he mocked with a dry laugh. “Skilled and feisty, you just keep turning me on, baby!”
He turned me around until my back was to him, his hand on my head, pressing my cheek against the freezing glass, completely overpowering me. My eyes shut, not wanting to believe what was about to happen while his other hand dug down, nails scratching my skin, aggressive fingers reaching my panties.
And that was when something lit inside me.
After everything I’ve gone through in my shitty life, I refuse to let this be my end.
My eyes flicked open, body kicking into survival mode. The pain I felt was nothing compared to my need for survival and the rush of adrenaline surging through my veins.
I wouldn’t be a victim here. Not tonight. Not again.
“I bet you have a nice and used little pussy,” he breathed, sliding his tongue across the back of my neck. His fingers sought to push my panties aside. “But bet that ass is still tight.”
“Good… luck… with that.” I muttered, forcing out the words between the grip of his hand almost choking me.
He stopped licking my neck, lifting his head to look at me with curious, defying eyes. As his face aligned with mine, I took the opportunity, throwing my head back and then slamming it into his. He let go of me instantly, stumbling back, clutching his nose with a pained grunt.
I spun around to face his friend, slamming my purse into his face. He staggered and I used his disorientation to punch him as hard as I could. I started moving, knowing I needed to run before they recovered, but a hand on my arm stopped me again.
The older man wasn’t giving up. Apparently, the bloody nose wasn’t enough to make him stop but he was still too dazed to block the knee I’d driven into his groin. He instinctively let go of my arm to clutch his crotch before crumbling to the ground in pain.
I ran into the park behind the bus stop, glancing back, watching asshole number two already getting up but I kept running, glancing over my shoulder when their shouts grew closer.
My face turned forward, ready to speed up my legs but in that same second, my body slammed into something solid, knocking the breath from my lungs, sending me stumbling back.
A strong arm wrapped around my waist, steadying me before I hit the ground.
I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could, the man’s hand clamped over it.
And when my eyes met his, I froze.