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“You’re here with Vince?”
Instantly, she began to fight a wave of tears, and her hands gripped the edge of the bathroom counter like it was the only thing keeping her from falling into the pits of hell beneath her feet. What I didn’t want to tell her was that she was already there.
She was standing in the fire, and it was going to burn her down if she didn’t get out.
“He looks after me,” she whispered, the words obviously rehearsed.
“He makes you fuck random men on the street, and in exchange, he gives you drugs.” The words came out harsher than I intended, but my anger wasn’t directed at her. It was all for him, every fucking drop of it. “How old are you…”
I let the words float, waiting for her name.
“Sarah. I’m nineteen.”
“Sarah!” Bang, bang, bang. “Get the hell out here!”
Like a robot, she moved as summoned, but I grabbed her arm, holding her for a breath. “Try and get to the hospital. Tell them. They will help.”
While I’d seen a sparkle of hope when she’d recognized my name, it was gone now. Every ounce of fight she’d once had now beaten from her, drained from her—her body and mind abused for God knows how fucking long until she’d finally ended up like this.
Furious, I stepped in front of her, storming toward the bathroom door and throwing it open, meeting Vince Martelli head-on.
He jumped back, surprised by the door flying toward him. “Bitch, what the…” he mumbled, straightening his suit as he looked up, “… you fucking—”
“You want to go round two, Vince?” I taunted, ignoring the little voice on my shoulder screaming run!
Sarah stumbled through the doorway behind me, trying to stay on her feet, although she looked like a new baby deer trying to walk for the first time. “Sorry, baby,” Sarah cooed, her voice suddenly a lot more slurred than it was. She fell into his arms, and he had to catch her to keep her from hitting the ground. “Lessss go upstesss, hmm?”
She was playing it up.
Pretending like she was trashed.
Most likely a defense mechanism she’d learned.
Vince’s eyes narrowed on me, and he shoved Sarah to the side before coming at me like I was the red rag and he was the bull. Every muscle in my body tensed, preparing to either fight for my life or escape. Only I knew I wasn’t about to run.
I wasn’t about to let this bastard think I was afraid of him, even though I was petrified.
“You meddling little bitch.”
“Vince!” Frank’s deafening roar had the entire room freezing as if someone had hit pause on a remote control. Vince was just a few feet from me, a murderous look on his face.
That look focused on me.
The pause was only brief. The chaos of footsteps came next, rattling the floors and sending vibrations up through my feet and into my chest. Bishop appeared in the ballroom’s archway beside Frank Martelli, his eyes focused on me.
It wasn’t often you saw Bishop second-guess anything, but I saw him considering whether he needed to storm in and kill Vince where he stood or if he should avoid starting a war.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, holding up my hands and taking a few steps around a practically atomic Vince. “Mr. Martelli, I apologize. I was just helping Sarah here in the bathroom. I didn’t mean to cause any—”
“You didn’t, dear,” Frank cut in just as his wife stepped up beside him, her hand slipping into his. They looked straight past me, Frank with his eyes narrowed on his son while his wife’s eyes were much sadder, filled with disappointment and disgust.
“Vince, it’s time for you to go home,” Mrs. Martelli announced, the order causing her son to snap his entire body in her direction, his mouth falling open.
“Mom. I—”
“You heard your mother,” Frank cut in. “Go.”
Vince backed away, his lip curled as he hit me with one last glare before grabbing Sarah and dragging her off down the hall.
