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“He’s not here.” My voice shakes, barely above a whisper.

He holds his arms out, a brown beer bottle dangles in his right hand. “Den where at?”

“I-I don't know.” I take a few tentative steps toward him.

His gaze darts up and down the otherwise empty hallway before taking in my bare arms and legs.

I should have put on more than a thin tank top and shorts, but the voices kept screaming too loud.

“So, what? You here foa me, now?” His eyes glide down to my chest, barely concealed beneath my thin camisole.

I try not to breathe. I try not to move, though I can't stop shaking.

“No.” He pulls a small bag out of his pants and holds it up. “You here foa dis.”

“I . . . I need more.”

He eyes me one more time before licking his lips and pocketing the dime bag. “Yeah, I sure you do. But, it no free dis time.”

“I can pay.”

He laughs. It's dark, knotting my already tense stomach. Reaching out, his thumb caresses my lower lip. His smile grows. “I no want you money.”

“Then . . .” My words get cut off when I glance down at his pants pocket and see the bulge growing in his black jeans.

My heart races. I wipe my sweaty palms against my shorts.

I don't need it.

Dirty. Whore.

The words scream inside my head.

I clench my eyes shut, willing the voices to leave, pushing against the darkness.

I don’t need it.

I hear him chug the rest of his beer before the glass bottle crashes to the tile floor. His thumb traces my lip again before he grabs my chin and squeezes tight.

A tear leaks from the corner of my eye.

He leans close. The stench of cheap beer invades my nostrils. “You try so hard to act like you one good girl. Try to fool dem all.” He squeezes tighter, his lips brushing my ear. “But you no fool me.”

Suddenly I'm spun around, my chest pressed up against the wall.

“You one dirty, little whore.”

More tears stream down my cheeks. But I don't fight against him. Can't fight him.

He tugs at my shorts until they fall to my ankles. Pushing his knee between my legs, he pries them apart. His other hand still grasps my head, keeping it pinned against the wall.

Still, I don't fight it. My body shakes, silent tears stream freely. The darkness has seeped in. There’s no fighting it.

I open my eyes enough to see Damien's closed door. Something cracks inside my chest. “Y-your room.”

He eases up and glances around before pressing back against me. “No, honey girl. We do dis here. Dat way, anyone come, dey see what a dirty whore you are.”

He unzips his jeans. The metallic sound sends a chill down my spine. I shake in his grasp. The tears fall faster. Yet the voices scream louder.

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