4. Watch Your Mouth
Iwas trapped in a tiny room. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. If I did, the whole place would fall apart, taking me with it. I stood there, my lungs beginning to burn when buzzing bees suddenly attacked.
No, that wasn’t right.
Another bee attacked.
Opening my eyes, I blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from them. It felt like I’d just dozed off, but when I grabbed my phone—the real source of the buzzing—I saw it was nearly two in the morning. I shook my foggy head as I willed my tired eyes to focus on the waiting text messages.
Unknown: Meet me here at seven PM.
Unknown: Pin Drop Location Loading
It took me a minute to figure out who it was.
Me: Veronica?
My text went unanswered.
I opened the map she’d sent, zooming in to see the meet was nowhere near my apartment. Of freaking course.
Me: Wow, thank you for making it so convenient for me to get my stolen money.
No answer again.
Letting out a groan, I flopped back in bed.
I wasn’t sure why I was surprised she wouldn’t just drop it off at my apartment. Veronica had always been self-centered to the point of dysfunctional. She hadn’t considered—or maybe it didn’t matter—that I would have to take the bus while she had a car. It was just like her to tell me what to do and expect me to follow.
And since I needed that money, that’s exactly what I would do.
Dammit.
I rolled over, kicking my legs with more force than necessary.
Beneath that anger, though, was a dull hurt that would grow if I let it.
Because she’d texted.
All that time, I’d assumed she didn’t have my number, but she did.
Had she used it to ask for help?
No.
Had she used it just to check in with her only child?
No, of course not.
It was yet another reminder that my relationship with my mother would never be what I wanted because she didn’t want it.
She didn’t want me.
With that knowledge causing a pit in my stomach that I refused to acknowledge, I was almost back asleep when something hit me.
Once I get off the bus, I’ll have to walk by Moonlight.
No way.
I snatched my phone back, cursing my previous snark. After that, it was even more unlikely Veronica would respond. I tried anyway.
Me: Can we meet somewhere else?
Literally anywhere else.
I wasn’t worried about security being sicced on me. If I saw the behemoth—and that was a big if—I could likely do a jig in front of him, and he wouldn’t recognize me.
It was my ego I was looking out for.
Usually, repression and compartmentalization were skills of mine—especially when it came to all the various embarrassments I’d endured. In that lengthy list, the entire scene at Moonlight was ranked right at the top. Even though I would’ve loved to block the whole thing out, it’d been hard not to think about the behemoth.
And I did not want to think about him.
I didn’t want to remember the pity in his hazel eyes.
I didn’t want to remember the way he’d fed me like he cared that I was starving.
I didn’t want to remember how good looking he was as he sat across from me, cool and sophisticated in his fancy suit. All the while, I’d been fighting against passing out or throwing up.
That was a big ole no thanks.
The easiest thing for me and my ego was to forget about the behemoth and avoid Moonlight for the rest of my life. Easy enough. I was too young and too poor to gamble.
I just had to hope Veronica would be accommodating to someone other than herself or her man for once.
But I knew it was highly unlikely.
Well… At leastI was right.
That has to count for something.
Veronica hadn’t been accommodating.
She hadn’t been anything because I hadn’t heard a damn peep from her.
There’d been no texts from her. Certainly none that had said she’d reconsidered and would be dropping my money off at my apartment, plus a few grand more for the inconvenience.
I’d tried to call and text a few times throughout the day, but they’d also gone unanswered.
Which was why, though I was far from happy about it, I was in the spot she’d picked. At the time she’d picked.
Yet Veronica was not.
Standing outside boarded-up buildings that’d seen better days, I checked my phone.
Still nothing.
Although it was only September, the strong winds made tiny bumps spread across my skin. Or maybe it was hunger messing with my temperature regulation since it was nearing dinner—my one meal of the day. Whatever the reason, I pulled my hoodie a little tighter as my gaze went to my left.
Again.
For the millionth time.
It was just the edge of a roof, off in the distance.
Moonlight Resort.
It might as well have been an entire world away. Nothing about the run-down block where I stood seemed like it should be in the same state as Moonlight, much less the same area.
When I’d gotten off the bus near The Roulette—another building I would prefer to avoid for the rest of time and then some—I’d had to walk out of my way to steer completely clear of both.
If Veronica would hurry up with my money, I could return to my apartment and never have to see even the edge of Moonlight again.
Which sounds very ominous and dramatic, but whatever.
With an exasperated sigh—both at myself and my mother—I tore my eyes away. I checked my phone, but there was still nothing. No call to explain. Not even a text to acknowledge she was late.
Tired of waiting, I hit call. After only a ring and a half, it cut off and went to her voicemail.
She hit decline.
When it beeped for me to leave a message, I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her what a shit mom she was. How she was selfish and greedy and ruining my life.
But I didn’t.
I kept my frustration and temper in check because if I wounded her giant ego, she wouldn’t meet up. I wouldn’t get my money. She’d flip the whole narrative around to be the victim. And with an angry voicemail as proof, she could really milk it.
Not wanting to give her any excuses or fuel, I kept my voice as light and non-confrontational as possible. “I’m here, Roni?—”
I didn’t have the chance to say anything else when two things happened at once.
My phone was plucked from my hand.
And my body was moved against my will—and not gently.
It took a moment for me to realize what happened.
That I’d fucked up.
I’d lived in Vegas and the outskirts my whole life. I knew it was as dangerous as it was glamorous.
As in, the rich areas were glamorous with just a hint of danger to keep it exciting. Outside of that—in the areas I lived and shopped and worked and existed—was the opposite. It was dangerous with just a glimpse of glamor in the distance. Close, yet always out of reach.
Even knowing how dodgy it was, I’d been focused on my phone. My thoughts had been preoccupied by my mother. I hadn’t stayed aware of my surroundings.
For anyone, that was a stupid risk.
For a woman, it could be deadly—or worse.
As soon as my brain caught up to my body being shoved against a building, I inhaled deep.
And then I screamed my damn head off.
My mouth was quickly covered, a sweaty palm pushing my cheek harder against the brick. The rough texture scraped and stung as I was dragged farther between the buildings.
Whoever had me spoke, but with my blood roaring in my head and a forearm against my ear, I couldn’t make out what he said.
A different, quieter voice responded.
I knew better than to think that voice was some Good Samaritan rushing to help me. If anyone else was in the vicinity—and that was a big if—they’d likely lower their head and take off in the opposite direction. A second voice only meant one thing.
There are two of them.
Fuck.
My thoughts raced as I tried to figure out what to do. I needed to scream. Lash out. Kick. Scratch. Bite my way free.
With my heart hammering in my chest and my lungs burning with insufficient breaths, my fight-or-flight instincts screamed at me to do something. Anything.
I didn’t.
Couldn’t.
His hold was too firm, keeping me faced away. Trying to hit him would only work to hurt me. And with his gross palm covering my mouth and squeezing, I couldn’t speak or plead or reason or insult.
I was frozen, both by fear and circumstance.
Right up until someone touched my stomach.
I jolted, trying to shift away as bile rose in my throat when the hand moved to my hip.
It was a light touch. Tentative, even.
But that didn’t make it any better.
When whoever touched my ass, I nearly lost the tenuous hold I had on my retching stomach. Rather than feeling me up, whoever only slid my thin wallet free from my back pocket.
My head swam in relief.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been held up—that’d happened at the old age of twelve. Replacing my EBT card, bank card, and license would be a pain in the ass, but it was infinitely preferable to what could’ve happened.
I would even give them my pin numbers so they could hurry along to discover that I was broke. That they’d wasted their time. That I should’ve been the one robbing them because it was almost certain they had more than I did.
“Nothing,” the quiet one whispered.
I could’ve told you that.
“’Cause you’re not looking right,” the other bit out, the harshness of his voice sending a chill down my spine even before he pushed in close.
Too close.
Pinning me against the building with his body, he kept his tight hold on my mouth. He ran his other hand along my body. Unlike his friend, he groped at me with a bruising roughness.
Shoving a hand into my hoodie pockets.
My front pockets.
My back pockets.
Lower.
When his hand tried to go between my squeezed thighs from behind, I used what little leverage I had to push off from the wall. The hint of space I achieved was quickly lost when he body checked me back into the brick. His hand on my mouth should’ve softened the blow, but he jerked my head to ensure it hit hard.
I blinked back tears as he lowered his mouth to my ear. His icy voice was low enough that only I could hear him, yet he might as well have been shouting. “You stupid cunt. You think you’re better than me? You should feel lucky I’m touching you.”
Either his buddy was getting quieter, or he’d moved farther down the alley before calling, “C’mon, man.”
The man holding me rose to his full height. I couldn’t stop myself from flinching, and the sick bastard’s erection jerked against my back at the sign of fear.
Saliva filled my mouth.
“Let’s just go,” the nervous one continued.
A leader and a follower.
“You telling me what to do?” the leader asked in such a calm, scary way, I almost felt bad for the other guy.
Almost.
“No, no, of course not.”
“Where’s your money?”
I thought the asshole was still talking to the jumpy guy, but then he pulled me away from the wall just to shove me harder against it. “I asked you a question, bitch.”
“I don’t have any,” I answered, my words muffled against his palm.
“Fucking greedy bitches, always playing games and thinking their toxic snatches will save them. Being lying sluts must be hereditary for you all.” He gripped my cheeks and tilted my head so far, I thought my neck would break. “Tell the truth for the first time in your whore life. In your whore ancestry.”
As soon as he removed his hold on my mouth, I insisted, “I am.”
If I had enough space, I would have pulled my pockets out of my shorts so dust and moths could fly out like in a cartoon.
“Fuck, Ez,” the other guy groaned. “Maybe she’s telling the truth.”
“First, you try to tell me what to do, and now you wanna let some lying bitch manipulate you?” He wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and my breaths came in rattled gasps. My face was pushed against the brick as I took the physical brunt of his irritation while the other man got the cold, harsh verbal threats. “You say one more fucking word, I’ll keep it all for myself.”
Any sympathy I had for nervous guy evaporated in an instant when he remained silent.
The cowardly prick.
“Where were we?” The handsy jerk dropped his head so his mouth was near my ear. He licked the shell, and a shudder went through me. Not of pleasure.
Neverof pleasure.
It was fear and disgust that twisted my insides until I was moments from getting sick. The bile rose in my throat, acrid and burning.
But he wasn’t done.
Still gripping the back of my neck like I was an animal he needed to keep in place, his other hand shoved between me and the building to palm my breast. My fear grew to panic that seeped into my bones. Not just because he was touching me. It was how he did it.
With ease.
Confidence.
He didn’t care that his touch was unwanted. It was the opposite.
The way he ground his disgusting erection against me said he liked the pain and terror he caused.
I tried to make my voice strong. “Back away.”
“Or what?” At my silence, he gave a cruel chuckle. With each word, he squeezed my sensitive flesh harder. “That’s what I thought.” He slid his palm from the back of my neck to grip the front and tilt my chin up. His eyes were on my lips. “Maybe after I fill your mouth with something other than lies, you’ll feel like telling the truth.”
It wasn’t a scare tactic. It wasn’t him using tiny-dick-energy intimidation.
His bland nonchalance filled my veins with ice water.
Even if I knew what money he was talking about.
If I told whatever truth he wanted to hear.
If I gave him all the cash in the world.
I knew, without a doubt, he’d follow through on his vile threats anyway.
Because that was what he really wanted to do.
The mystery money was just an excuse.
My frenzied words spewed without a filter. “I have nothing. Less than nothing. I don’t have a job. I don’t even have a balance on my food stamp card. I’m broker than you, asshole.”
Pain suddenly exploded from the side of my face, the force knocking me against the building so hard, I saw stars.
I scrambled, turning in time to watch his fist fly at my face again. The back of my head hit the brick, and he chose right then to finally move away.
I dropped.
By the time my dazed brain communicated the need to catch myself, it was too late. My sluggish arms were lined with lead, and they couldn’t move fast enough to break my fall.
Shooting pain radiated up my spine from my tailbone, knocking the wind out of me. What little breath I had was lost when a hard kick connected with my exposed stomach. I soundlessly cried out as preservation instinct overcame the shock, and I curled into myself.
It didn’t do any good.
Gripping my hair, the monster pulled my head back. “What the fuck did you just call me?” He used his stinging grip on my hair to keep me in place so he could punch me again.
God.
I am so stupid.
Being there alone.
Not staying alert.
Mouthing off.
I’d made a lot of mistakes, and with fear and pain clouding my brain, maybe I was continuing to make them. But his anger was better than the alternative, so I let my emotions run the show and my mouth.
Shaking off the mental fog, I glared up at him. It wasn’t hard to do since my eye was already swelling. “If you come near me with that dehydrated Vienna sausage you call a dick, I’ll bite it off.”
He backhanded me so hard, blood sprayed from my mouth. I wasn’t sure if it was a busted lip or something more. The sharp, metallic taste coated my tongue, and more droplets dripped down my chin.
His free hand went into his pocket before pulling something free. With a flick of his wrist, a sharp blade clicked free.
Oh fuck.
“Help me get her up,” he bit out, pointing that deadly blade at the coward and then me.
Assuming I was subdued enough by the punches, the viselike grip on my hair, and the threat of the knife, the coward must’ve deemed it safe to approach.
He was wrong.
When he grabbed my foot, I kicked out, catching him right in the jaw.
“Bitch,” he bit out, stomping my stomach at the same time the asshole shook me.
Violently.
Like he was trying to snap my head off my neck.
Even if I wanted to keep fighting against their hands, I couldn’t. My limbs refused to move. Words wouldn’t form, no matter how badly I wanted to shout and insult and plead.
No more screams.
No more kicks.
No tears.
I had to channel every drop of energy into fighting against the black edges that threatened to push in.
Don’t pass out.
Don’t pass out.
If he did all this while I was awake…
A tremor rocked my body, and I couldn’t even finish my thought.
A loud siren suddenly cut through the air and echoed in the alley. It was an ambulance, not the police—I was all too familiar with the difference—but the men must not have known.
The leader’s furious gaze locked on me.
He wanted to kill me.
He wanted to do worse.
And he would’ve had the siren not grown louder. Closer.
He got into my face and said something, the tone of it harsh and poisonous, but I couldn’t hear a single thing. Even the siren mixed with whirling in my head, becoming warped until it just stabbed along with the pounding behind my eyes.
The men took off down the other side of the alley, jumping a fence and continuing.
I didn’t leave the alley. Not right away. Focusing on my breaths, I scooted to the side until I was hidden away. I took my time, working to stay conscious. Maybe it was only a few minutes. Maybe much longer. My brain seemed to be cutting in and out—like streaming a movie with a sketchy internet connection.
Once I felt steady enough, I used the wall to slowly stand.
I burned.
The brick rash on my face. My hot, swollen cheeks. Even my internal organs felt like they had lava traveling through them. Everything burned like it was on fire.
I wanted to collapse and press my body to the cold ground, but I knew better. It wasn’t safe. I needed to get the hell out of there.
Zipping my sweatshirt, I pulled the hood over my head. I kept my face down and moved as quickly as my aching body would allow.
When I reached the end of the alley, I picked up my phone from where it’d been tossed aside. The glass was shattered so badly, it felt jagged against my fingertip. I pressed the power button anyway, but the only thing displayed were the glitchy rainbow lines of a completely totaled screen. I pocketed it and made sure nobody was around before I continued to the street.
I should’ve gone to my bus stop.
I should’ve tried to find a taxi to splurge on.
Hell, even walking the long way home would’ve been a better idea.
I did none of that.
Nor did I go to the police, try to find the ambulance that’d passed, or any of the other million things that would have made sense.
I honestly wasn’t sure what I was thinking.
Keeping my slow pace, I walked and walked and walked until I reached the very same building I’d just sworn to avoid. I didn’t hesitate before climbing the steps and going inside.
I kept my head down as I cut the line and moved directly to the front desk. “Is the behemoth here?”
“Ma’am?” a man responded.
Why did I say that?
Oh fuck, that’s right.
I took a breath, hoping the oxygen would get my brain to function.
It didn’t.
I pushed on anyway.
“Ash. Beard. Short hair. Behemoth of a man,” I corrected, hoping I hadn’t majorly fucked up by taking such a big risk.
Considering how limited my view was—not to mention how out of it I was—there was a good possibility I was in the wrong building.
Even if it was Moonlight, it was also possible that Ash didn’t even work there. I’d just assumed so, but maybe I’d met him while he’d been visiting his security friend.
“Ma’am,” the man said again, “this lobby is for resort guests. I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call security.”
His voice was filled with equal parts pity and disdain, like I was one of the drunks or druggies who hung around the casinos, hoping to score—either a jackpot or drugs.
Or a wealthy mark to pickpocket.
“Go ahead.” My words were clipped with impatience to hide the pain it caused just to speak. “As long as security also brings Ash. Now.”
I leaned on the counter for a moment, fighting against the wave of nausea that roiled my stomach. From the corner of my eye, I could see the man pick up the phone, but I couldn’t hear what he said. The whirring in my head was like a peaceful white noise compared to the hammering that took over the longer I stood. All the bright lobby lighting and reflective glass twinkled around me before bursting like light flares. The black around my vision was no longer hovering, threatening to push in. It was pulsating, thrumming to the beat of my pounding headache.
I need to go home before I get arrested.
No reason to carry on that family tradition.
I inhaled and gathered every bit of strength I had before forcing my fingers to release the counter.
“Ma’am, wait,” someone said.
Before I made it more than a couple of shuffling steps, the vibe in the lobby was suddenly different. Like the room had shrunk. Like a ripple of awareness moved through it. Like people were in awe or fear.
Or both.
I knew it was him even before he said, “Little girl.”
I didn’t have the energy to be annoyed at the name I’d told him not to use. I barely had the energy to breathe.
Regretting everything, I kept my head down and ignored him as I continued toward the exit. But suddenly he was there. In front of me. He must’ve caught some of the damage to my face from the harsh way he bit out, “Fuck.”
“It’s not?—”
“What happened?”
He reached for me, but I flinched away. “I was in a car accident.”
The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but it was far better than the truth.
Actually, silence would’ve been the best. Which I could’ve had if I hadn’t stupidly searched him out.
This was a mistake.