Page 114 of Rescuing Barbi


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“I appreciate your words, but you don’t know what I’ve done or what I’m capable of. You don’t carry the ghosts I do.”

“Maybe not.” Her eyes hold a deep well of sorrow that hints at her own share of pain. “But I’ve learned we need to forgive ourselves before we find redemption. I believe there’s more to you than darkness.”

My heart aches, touched by her unwavering conviction in the face of my hopelessness. I want to believe her, want to cling to that sliver of light she offers, but the shadows within me are too deeply rooted.

“Maybe you’re right.” I admit the possibility, my voice thick with emotion. “But I’m not sure I deserve that chance.”

The raucous laughter of the group Silvie belongs to intensifies, fueled by alcohol and unchecked aggression.

Silvie’s pimp stalks towards us, his face contorted with rage. He slams his glass onto the barter and yanks Silvie away from me. The force of his grip makes her wince, and my heart clenches at the abuse. The man tries to loom over me—his eyes a storm of jealousy and rage—it’s a mistake he’ll regret.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Silvie pleads with her pimp.

“Then why are you wasting your time talking to this loser instead of fucking him?” The man sneers, turning his glare on me. “Trying to get some for free, huh?”

“Leave her alone.” My words come out a low, throaty growl, and my anger builds. I rise from my seat and surprise the man when I tower over him by a foot. “We were just talking.”

“Think you can have a heart-to-heart with my girl without payin’ up?” He snarls at me, his breath reeking of cheap booze and stale cigarettes. “You got another thing coming, buddy.”

“Think.”

“Huh?” He looks at me without understanding.

“It’s another think coming. Not thing.” I correct the bastard, getting more irritated by the second.

“You lookin’ for trouble?” The pimp’s lips twist into a sneer. He’s too far into his drink to realize he’s outmatched when it comes to me.

“Leave him alone.” Silvie interjects, her voice trembling but resolute. “He’s not trying to get anything for free. He’s going to pay. We were just talking.”

I clench my fists, feeling the darkness within me stirring, urging me to lash out. I want nothing more than to wipe the smug sneer from this guy’s face, but violence will only prove Silvie’s words wrong—that I’m beyond redemption.

“Talking doesn’t keep the lights on, sweetheart.” The pimp’s fingers dig into Silvie’s arm. She winces in pain, but her eyes remain locked on me, pleading with me not to retaliate.

“Let her go.” My hands ball into fists as every muscle in my body tenses, ready to strike. The darkness within me wakes, urging me to unleash my pent-up fury upon this man who dares to harm someone so undeserving.

“Or what?” The pimp sneers, tightening his grip on Silvie’s arm until she cries out. “You gonna teach me a lesson?”

“Maybe I should.” I reply, keeping my voice low and dangerous as I stare down at the man who stands between me and the fragile hope Silvie offered me. “She doesn’t belong to you. She’s more than a possession for you to control.”

“Is that so?” Rick taunts me, stepping closer. Which only makes him crane his neck. At six-ten, I’ve easily got a foot in height over the man, and while lean, my muscles are whipcord strong. “You think I don’t know what she’s worth? She’s damn good at what she does, and I’m not giving her up without a fight.”

A feral growl builds in my throat as the pimp’s venomous words lash out. The weight of every past sin and transgression presses down on me, fueling an inferno inside of me that will consume everything in its path.

As we face off, the weight of the pimp’s words hang heavy in the air. For the first time since I can remember, I stand up for someone other than myself. Normally, I’m the punisher and executioner.

But not tonight.

Maybe Silvie’s right?

A small flicker of hope pushes against the darkness that threatens to consume me. And though I feel the familiar pull of violence tugging at my soul, I hold firm, determined to prove that I can still choose a different path.

“Get your hands off her.” I spit on the floor, my voice laden with the anguish that’s festering inside of me.

Silvie’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears.

The pimp backhands Silvie across the face. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoes through the bar, followed by a gasp from the few remaining patrons as she falls to the sticky floor.

Rick’s eyes blaze with fury, the veins in his neck bulging beneath his taut skin. He points an accusing finger at me. “You think you’re so much better than me? You ain’t no saint, pal.”

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