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Ugh, shit, I woke him up.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. It was a busy night, and it took a little while to get the stragglers out and get the bar cleaned up," I whispered.
"You were that busy tonight, really?" he asked again.
I knew that meant he didn't believe me. He thought I was lying to him.
“Yes, it was busy. I’m sorry. I’m late. I really didn’t mean to wake you,” I whispered again.
That was it. He said nothing else. After about a minute, I heard his breathing even out and knew he had fallen back to sleep. I, on the other hand, was wide awake with the weight from his leg and arm holding me down.
* * *
The way the sunlight was entering my bedroom and directly at my bed, I rolled over, knowing it was only a little after six thirty in the morning.
"Brad, it's around six thirty. Do you need to get up for work?" I whispered.
His eyes flickered a little before he opened his eyes, looking directly at me. When I met Brad, I thought he had the prettiest brown eyes. Now they just looked dark and mean.
"Ugh, yes, I need to get up and moving. My dad has a meeting with an investor this morning that he wants me to attend."
Yup, Brad was one of those polo-wearing kind of guys. He worked at his father's real estate firm here in the city. They did a lot of commercial investing, from what I gathered at family dinners. I tried not to attend many, but sometimes I had to make an appearance on Brad's arm. His parents worked hard to build the firm and all their investment properties.
When Brad graduated college, he went directly to work at the firm and under his dad. He was making a pretty good salary, but his dad told him he was an employee and needed to work hard if he wanted to become a partner; he wasn't just going to hand a partnership to his son.
Boy, did that piss Brad off?
I think Brad thought he would just walk in and be handed a partnership and a hefty salary, but that didn't happen. He had to work hard and prove himself.
"I'm going to head out and shower at my place; I don't have any suits here," Brad stated.
"Okay, well, I'm going to jump in the shower and try to get some writing done today," I said back to him, getting up from the bed.
"Don't you think you should start letting go of that pipe dream of being the next big songwriter?" Brad said condescendingly as he threw a hoodie on.
"I don't think it's a pipe dream; there are a lot of successful songwriters out there," I shot back.
"Sure, if you say so. Hey, where is your money from last night? I will get that in the bank for you," he said while slipping his arms through a hoodie.
Brad took my tip money every night. He said he put it into a savings account for me so I could save for our future. What a crock of shit. He took that money so he could spend it on extra stuff with his buddies.
God forbid they knew he wasn't making as much money as them. So instead, he took my money. He gave me enough to pay my rent, gas, groceries, and other bills. You would be surprised by how much I made in tips at a dive bar. We were conveniently located close to the colleges, and if a college boy liked what he saw, he tipped you well. Stupid boys!
"I left it on the coffee table; I'm jumping in the shower. If I don't see you when I get out, I will call you later," I said as I exited the bedroom to the bathroom.
Brad didn't say anything; he just started to walk to the living room, so I went into the bathroom and turned on the water to the shower. One great thing about my apartment: it had fantastic water pressure and great hot water. I stepped into the shower and let the heat hit my face. It felt so good to stand there and let the heat of the water hit my body and loosen my tight muscles. After a few minutes of basking in the wonderful hot water, I washed my hair and body.
I shut the water off, and as I opened the hideous fish shower curtain, I jumped when I saw Brad leaning against the vanity. His eyes were extremely dark, almost black. I shivered more from fear than being cold because I was standing there completely naked, with soaking wet hair and no towel. He pushed himself off the vanity, standing straight.
He was not extremely tall; my brothers and Ryan were much taller, but I still had to look up to him. He reached out his arm not to caress me. No, he reached out and grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall beside the shower. My head hit the wall with a hard thump. I could not move with his hand wrapped around my throat, adding just enough pressure to block my airway slightly.
"Brad, please," was all I could get out.
"You think I'm stupid, don't you? You thought I wouldn't catch on to you," he stated in a firm, angry voice. "I don't know what you're talking about. Please let go, and let's talk about this," I continued, "Tell me what has you so upset, Brad, please."
"I saw your fucking phone, and I saw that damn message," again, he had a firm voice.
"What message?"
