AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Isn’t that what we’re for?” she shouts back, handing another patron a drink, and then closes their tab.
“Pfft. Bitch,” I scoff with a wave. “I may be the manager, but I’ll still get dirty.” I wink, heading to a supply closet next to my back office and grabbing a trash bag.
As soon as I hit the main floor, I begin cleaning up. Candy wrappers, beer cans and bottles, old receipts, and even old food sticks to the floor. Ugh. Animals! There’s a trash can at every friggin corner, and they decide to leave their shit on the ground.
“Ode!” I shout, tying up the heavy trash bag and throwing it over my shoulder with a grunt. Shit. I swear there are a few cement blocks in here. “I’m taking this out!” Ode gives me the thumbs up as I make my way out the backdoor and into the cool air.
I take a deep breath, relieved the staleness of the bar no longer infiltrates my nose. Replaced by the fresh, night air blowing through the abandoned alleyway. An eerie feeling churns in my gut as I approach the dumpster, stopping me in my tracks.
Flipping open the lid, I peer over my shoulders and shake my head. This alleyway at one in the morning had always been a little creepy. Not to mention the attacks that have happened on this side of town. I’ve always been cautious, hence the knife in my pocket, but tonight it feels like eyes are burning right through me.
Once the heavy bag is deposited into the dumpster, I turn on my heel, ready to get back inside. The guys promised me a ride home after a long day of working, and I can’t wait to settle into bed. Lately, Rad and Callum have been stopping by for sleepovers or vice versa. Kieran and Ash hang out but never stay over. They’ve alluded to family issues but have never gotten specific about why they can’t stay over. Often, I find myself squished between their bodies in a warm cocoon of comfort. Something that should cause concern, but doesn’t anymore, because I’m free to do what I want with who I wish to and…
Pain erupts in my skull the moment something heavy knocks into me and sends me to my hands and knees, scraping along the pavement. All the air in my lungs blows out into the asphalt, and I’m left gasping for breath. My fingers dig into the ground, desperate to move and stand, but moving seems impossible. The world around me spins endlessly, and I’m pushed belly first onto the road, scraping every inch of my legs and arms when I skid forward.
“I don’t think so,” the menacing voice from my nightmares growls, placing his heavy foot between my shoulder blades. “I’ve got a job to do,” he says with a laugh, gripping me by my hair. “I won’t find this hard at all. I’m not one to hit it twice, but you were so damn pretty and tight the first time. Why not?” His low chuckle does little to settle my damn nerves.
No. Not again. Not him. What in the ever-living fuck is he talking about? God. My heart races out of my chest, spearing through my damn ribs. I kick my leg out and, by God's grace, land a strike to his knee. He grunts, gripping my hair tighter than before until my eyes burn and tears run down my cheeks. Popping happens in my neck when he yanks it backward, forcing a cry from my lips.
My lips pop open, pleading for help when he turns me over on my back, yanking the strands of my hair between his fingers. Pain encases my entire body like a fire scorching my skin, from the scrapes burning on my exposed legs to my fingers clawing at his arms.
“Scream all you want,” he murmurs. “I kind of like it.”
The world blurs before me, and I shake my head. Fuck. I must stay coherent or I’ll never make it through again. I have to stay the fuck awake and acknowledge the fact my biggest monster holds me captive in the isolated alleyway behind the bar.
“Fuck you, Bradley,” I slur, spitting in his face. Or, what I hope is his face. All I see are wiggly lines and weaving colors splashing the world.
By the force of the first blow to my face, my glob of spit must have hit its mark. The next impact reigns down on my face in a fury of fists, crunching my nose and cheekbones. Static takes over my ears when he finally stops his violent assault, leaving me a groaning, pleading mess.
Pain is the only thing radiating through my body, pulsating pain through every inch of my muscles. No matter how hard I try to move my arms and legs, they don’t cooperate, leaving me at his mercy. At fucking Bradley’s mercy—the last place I want to be. The last time I was, he took my innocence and fucking ran with it.
Time ticks by slowly as I lie there, feeling his hands in places they shouldn’t be. He murmurs words in my ear, but I can’t fucking hear him over the beating of my broken heart. The entire world fades into the shadows as I fumble for the weapon nestled deep in my pocket, the one I don’t leave home without—because of this man. The one time I didn’t have it with me, this happened, and I won’t let it happen again. I’ll die before I let him get what he wants.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!” someone, a familiar resounding voice, shouts, and his footsteps clomp forward loudly as if he is running.
My eyes stay closed, and my body is too spent to move as he remains on top of me, taking his damn time to get what he wants. Thank God my shorts are still on, and he hasn’t started doing what I know he wants to do.
“The hell do you want?” Bradley spits, easing off of me, but doesn’t fully get up. By the sound of the crunching beside me, he sits his ass on the pavement.
“What the hell?” the voice fills with panic, and a hand touches my warm forehead. “She’s bleeding!” he hisses, rubbing a finger down my jaw. “You weren’t…”
“Weren’t what? You fucking…” I flinch, drowning out the words when the fingers run over my nose, and I cry out from the pain filling every inch of my fucking body.
I’m so fucking tired of everyone thinking they can take whatever the hell they want from me. I’ve fought too hard for far too long to carve my way into this world. I won’t let some pissant fuckboy take what he wants again and again.
I’m fucking done. So, I do the only thing I can.
Flicking open my knife, I wildly stab wherever I can reach, basking in the roar of agony right before my entire world shuts down and I fall deep into the shadows of my mind.
Something…iswrong.Somethingfeelsout of fucking whack. If you asked me what, though. I have no fucking clue. An urgent alarm desperately claws at the back of my mind, nagging at me. For some fucking reason, and I can’t put my finger on it. Everyone I love sits before me, de-stressing after our third show in a row. River has put us through the fucking ringer, with gigs almost every night this week, exhausting us to the max. But it’s so damn worth it. Our rock star dreams rest at the tips of our fingers, finally in grasp.
“That show was badass!” Rad says with a grin, guzzling down a bottle of water twenty minutes after the performance.
Sweat pours from every inch of his glistening body, dripping off the long ends of his mullet. He groans, standing in front of the oscillating fan, opening the fly of his jeans.
“For the love of God, please keep your dick in your pants,” I groan with exhaustion, leaning against the wall for support.
“The little Rads are hot as hell! I have swamp dick—Swamp. Dick, Asher. They’re basically cooking in my jeans. My chestnuts are roasting! So, unless I want cooked swimmers, I need to cool them off,” Rad scoffs at me, pulling his jeans and boxers down, exposing himself for the fucking world to see. “Ah, that’s the stuff right there,” he mumbles, wiggling around his ass around and allowing the air to flow to his fucking flapping dick blowing in the breeze.
