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"Is that a temporary tattoo?" Honestly, it was pretty clever. I was all for having something that would help protect me from a bunch of drunk, lawless assholes. She waved it in the air as she grabbed a paper towel and a bottle of water.
"Isn't it great? It will only last a few days but should work like a charm tonight. Just make sure you don't rub it too much and don't get alcohol on it." She folded up the paper towel and waved me over. "I need your wrist." I held it out to her, and she turned my hand until I was in a position that she approved of. In less than a minute, she was lifting the drenched, folded up paper towel and slowly sliding the back of the tattoo off. The image left behind was identical to the one I had seen pretty much everywhere in the bar and all over each member's vest.
Kara held up her own wrist next to mine. "It obviously isn't real, but no one will notice, and that's all that matters." She chucked the trash in the bin by the door and tugged at her crotch one more time, muttering about wedgies before giving me another huge grin. "Oh! One last thing. You should pull your hair back. It gets super hot in the warehouse with all those bodies packed in there. There isn't any air conditioning. If you leave your hair down, it will be stuck to your arms and drive you crazy. Trust me." She gave me a wink and turned around, walking through the door. "Be outside in five minutes, or you'll be left behind!" With that parting comment, she was gone down the hall, her curvy hips swaying in a sensual way I could never hope to emulate.
I turned back to look at myself in the mirror and cringed. I had been using my long red hair as a shield since I was rescued. I considered leaving it down, but Kara was right; sweaty skin and long hair didn't mix well. With a sigh, I reached up and began to braid my hair into a French braid, starting at the top of my head. I was adept at it, my fingers flying through the process I had become used to almost daily for years. I always French braided my hair before putting on my swim cap to keep it from becoming a tangled mess.
Once I was at the end of my hair, I held it together with one hand and looked around for anything that I could use to tie it back, but there was nothing. You'd think with so many women around, there would be at least one stray hairband, but nope. I decided to try my luck with asking for help. One of the girls could have an extra around her wrist and wouldn't mind sharing.
I walked down the hall and passed an open door, grunts coming from inside it, catching my attention and making me look despite my better judgment. I had one glance before my head was spinning back to face forward. I never wanted to see that shit ever again. Barrel, the green-haired club enforcer, was pounding into a bent over Daisy, taking her hard. I shivered in repulsion and quickened my steps until I approached the next door.
I knew it was the President's office. I rarely saw him sitting, brooding in the dark, at his table in the bar. But he showed up to dump my mop bucket every night before leaving me standing there watching, never saying a word. My curiosity and, yes, my yearning to see him had me slowing down as I passed, doing my best to ignore the grunts that were getting louder. Why couldn't they shut the door? Freaks.
I spotted a rubber band sitting right on top of the desk next to a few pieces of paper and what was probably Bone's cell phone. I paused. I didn't really want to use an actual rubber band on my hair, that shit pulled and wasn't good for the strands, but I needed something. And there was something right there, just a few feet away. I glanced up and down the hallway, not seeing anyone. If I darted in and grabbed the rubber band quickly, no one would know. It wasn't like I was going to be stealing secrets or anything. It wasn't a big deal. Right?
Yeah, it was a shit idea, but I was going to do it anyway. With determined steps, I crossed the threshold and walked over to the desk, snatching up the rubber band. I let out a startled cry when I suddenly felt myself being pushed back before I could even comprehend what was happening. My feet were shuffling against the floor until my back hit the wall. A large, calloused hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed. My gasp came out as a squeak when I looked up to see bottomless black eyes glaring down at me with murderous intent.
"Tell me, little girl, do you want to die?" His gravelly, monotone voice had goosebumps popping up on my arms and the fine hairs on my body standing on end. I was looking into the face of a killer, someone I knew was far more dangerous than the man I had been rescued from.
I tried to speak, to explain myself, but his fist just tightened further. I couldn't take a breath, and my brain flew into panic mode. I dropped the end of the braid and grabbed onto his wrist with both hands, frantically trying to pry him away from my throat as my vision grew hazy around the edges.
He tilted his head to the side and watched me as I struggled for a breath that wasn't coming. "Only someone with a death wish would come into my office and take from me."
I shook my head as well as I was able while being held in his unbreakable grasp. I held up the rubberband that I was still clutching and jabbed it in the general direction of his face as my world grew darker and darker. He let up fractionally as he focused on what I was trying to show him. Just that much was enough to allow the smallest amount of air into my lungs. I sucked in as hard as I could, but it still wasn't enough.
"What the fuck is this? You were stealing a rubberband?" All I could do was nod as he loosened another fraction. "Why?" he demanded and shook me by the hold he had on my neck, my head lolling backward as I closed my eyes. "I could have killed you. Over a fucking rubber band." It almost sounded like he was speaking to himself rather than me. His gravelly voice lost the monotone edge, turning angry at the thought of killing me over something so minor.
Suddenly, the pressure was gone; only his hand remained, collaring me without stealing my breath. I sucked in huge lungfuls of air as tears rolled down my cheeks, across my scars, only to slide against his flesh where it met mine.
"Needed…for…hair." I gasped and choked, only his hold on my neck and my hold on his wrist keeping me upright instead of a heap of flesh and bones on the wooden floor.
"You needed the rubberband for your hair?" His monotone was back the same as when this had started, with no infliction to indicate if he was shocked, angry, confused, or amused.
"S-sorry. I'm s-so sorry." I wanted to beg for my life, but what reason did I have? My life was as useless as a used tissue. I probably should have been more afraid at that moment, but I honestly thought that the only reason I was scared at all while he was choking me was because of pure natural human response. Now that I was no longer in the clutches of death, I almost didn't care what he did with me.
His hand left my neck, and I dropped the hand that had been holding his wrist down to my side. I let my head fall forward. I didn't know what his next move would be, but I knew that it would have the potential to change my life for the worse forever.
When his hand reached behind me, I forced my body to relax my tense muscles. I kept my eyes closed when I felt him moving his hands, just focusing on clearing my thoughts, trying to slip into a meditative state so I could shake off the residual terror I felt at having my life squeezed from me.
When I heard his deep intake of air, I let my eyes open to see my braid dangling from his hand. I lifted my chin and followed the red plait to his heavily inked fingers. He had the ends of my hair pinched between those fingers, fanning out the strands, the rubberband securely tightened around the hair. And he was taking in my shampoo scent with his eyes closed as if he were enjoying it.
I stared, dumbfounded, as his eyes opened and focused on mine.
"Next time you need something, you come straight to me. Understand?" I started to nod until his hand returned to my throat, making me stiffen in anticipation of being choked again. But instead of tightening, I felt a feather-light caress of his fingers where I was sure to have a bruise by morning. "Good girl."
He stepped back, and before I could blink, he was gone from the room, and I was left standing there, confused and running my fingertips where he had just caressed me.
ChapterSeven
SALLY
As I sat in the back row of the van, I thought back to the conversation I'd had with Linda, the Assistant District Attorney. The Doctor was seen going about his day as if nothing in the world bothered him. He'd had his license pulled and would never work in medicine again. Apparently, he had taken up horticulture since the bond hearing.
The trial was still slated to start in January, and I would be expected to be there to testify. I had assured her I had every intention of returning. I had a driving need to see him behind bars for the rest of his miserable life. Linda had also told me that there was a quiet investigation going on behind the scenes regarding the judge and whether or not he was taking bribes. It was slow going, though. These people were good at what they did, but finding a money trail was challenging when there were so many ways to hide one.
I fingered the end of my braid, fanning it out the way Bones had. I brushed it over my lips and closed my eyes as I thought back to the way his tattooed fingers had brushed softly over my throat. It was almost as if he were apologizing, but at the same time, I got the impression that he had liked seeing his fingers there, collaring my throat, holding my life in his hands.
I shivered. A part of me had liked it, too. It was actually scary how much I liked it now that I was looking back and not terrified that he was actually going to squeeze the life out of me.
