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I glance at the stage where the band’s playing, noticing how beautiful the singer is. She has dark brown hair curling wild around her face.
When the song ends, she smiles and talks seductively into the mic, “Thanks, folks, we’re taking a short break.”
I turn my attention back to Damian, only to find him also looking at the singer. There’s a twisting in my chest when my eyes jump back to the stage, and I see her smile at him. A frown forms on my forehead as she makes her way toward us, and my hands grow clammy.
God, is she the real reason we came here tonight?
My world stills when Damian hugs her. Her fingers splay over his ribs as she presses a kiss on his cheek. Then they smile at each other, and the sight makes bile suddenly build up in my throat.
I push myself off the stool, but before I can dart past them, Damian grabs hold of my arm to hold me back.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
I pull my arm free. “The restroom.” Not waiting for a response, I rush toward the toilet sign.
I just need a minute… Maybe ten.
Thoughts race through my mind in a crazy blur.
What if Damian likes her? What if she comes to the house?
I push through the restroom’s door and go stand behind the four women who are already waiting, then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
God, I look like shit. I’ve passed albino, and I’m heading for translucency.
Maybe that’s what I’ll become – a ghost.
“Are you going?” a woman behind me asks.
I hurry into the stall and close the door behind me. When I turn to face the toilet, there’s a sudden stab of alarm, and then horror rips the breath from my lungs.
All I can smell is urine and vomit.
All I can feel are the four walls closing in on me.
My whole world tilts to the side, and wave after wave of terror makes my heart hammer painfully.
Flashes of my hellish time in the container bombard me, battering my mind and soul until I sink to the floor. Horror-stricken, I scoot back until I hit the toilet. I squeeze my body into the small space between the toilet and wall, and I press my face against my knees.
“No,” I croak. “No.”
I keep saying the word over and over, trying to fight the nightmare enveloping me in its tormenting claws. Depraved and ruthless memories rip through me, and I can’t fight them off, just like I couldn’t fight the men off.
I hear a loud bang, and I cover my head with a shriek.
Chapter 13
DAMIAN
I keep one eye on the restrooms and the other on Jane.
“Who’s the girl?” Jane asks.
“A friend.” I take a sip of my drink as I take a good look at Jane. She looks tired. This way of life is starting to catch up with her.
“So… listen,” she says as she moves closer to me. “There’s something I need your help with. Is it okay if I come by tomorrow?”
I’ve known Jane for a couple of years. We fucked once, but I stopped it dead in its tracks before a relationship could start. Now that Cara is living with me, I don’t feel comfortable letting Jane come around.
“I need your help with a problem,” she explains.
I never turn down work, and I can’t stop working just because Cara will be around. We need the money.
“I’ll come by your place,” I mutter.
Jane reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Thanks.” She nods to the stage. “I gotta get back.”
She downs the rest of her beer and then makes her way through the crowd. My eyes go back to the restrooms, and I frown. Cara’s been gone a couple of minutes.
Getting up, I make my way to the restrooms. I don’t care what the women might think as I go inside.
“Take a shit at home!” a woman hollers while slamming a fist against one of the stalls.
“Yeah, we all gotta piss!” another one yells.
I scan the small space, but there’s no sign of Cara.
Fuck.
There are only two stalls. The one closest to me opens, and a woman comes out.
“The bitch still in there?” she asks the woman who’s banging on the door.
“Yeah, the cunt thinks she can take her sweet motherfucking time!” the woman shouts, her face going red with anger.
I stalk to the stall, and it’s only then the women notice me. “Hey, get your dick sucked somewhere else!”
I shove her out of the way, not caring where the fuck she goes, as long as it’s away from the door.
“Cara,” I call, but there’s no answer. I slam my shoulder into the door, and the flimsy piece of wood gives way. Shoving the door all the way open, my heart sinks.
“Fuck, Cara,” I breathe.
She’s somehow wedged her body into the small space between the toilet and door. I rush in and crouching in front of her, I wonder how the fuck I’m going to get her out.
