The moment I enter, I squint to see through the smoke.It’s a combination of cigarettes and the smoke machine.The lights are dimmed, but splashes of pink and blue occasionally illuminate the club.
There is the main dance floor, but off to the right are stairs.The painted pink arrow, which points downstairs, says “Down the Rabbit Hole.”The little white rabbits painted on the stairs give off anAlice in Wonderlandvibe.
I decide to hang out in the main area and wait for Jupiter to arrive.
Leaning over the bar, I shout my order to be heard over Depeche Mode blaring through the speakers.“White sangria mocktail, please.”
The bartender nods.He has a face full of piercings.I like it.
As I wait for my drink, I scan my surroundings.Men and women dance in cages.Some gyrate against the stripper poles.People make out in corners, while others chat in the red vinyl booths.The dance floor is packed full of sweaty bodies, losing themselves to the music.
It looks peaceful.
I wonder who Jupiter has found.It surprises me that they’d be here because in my experience, it’s the “normal” ones you need to be wary of.They are the worst predators of all, as no one suspects someone’s upstanding father, brother, or uncle.
The people here, it appears, want to stand out, which is the opposite of someone with sinister intent.
My curiosity is piqued.
“Scotch and Coke.”
Instantly, my entire body is covered in goose bumps.
I’m transported back to that night in the woods.“First time fingering a pussy?”
I’d remember that voice, even in death.The reason is because that voice haunts me in my dreams, as well as every waking moment since he brutally robbed me of my innocence.
My vision was impaired, so I relied on my other senses because I knew that this time would come.I knew that eventually my rapist would stand in front of me so I could have my revenge.
Turning over my shoulder, I see the twentysomething man.
I finally see the face of the monster haunting my dreams.
Smokes.
So he wasn’t the one I ran over.
Shame, that.
There’s nothing remarkable about him.Brown hair.Matching eye color.Some may think he’s handsome if you like the preppy look.
I smell tobacco, just as I did that night.
I also smell vomit.My vomit from when he tore my insides up.
I’m conflicted.
I’m scared.
But a surge of adrenaline animates every cell in my body, and for the first time since I became Liv, I feel alive.
This isn’t a coincidence.
This is fate.
“That’ll be five dollars,” the bartender’s voice snaps me from the past.
I must be more careful.
