And now . . . now I have this girl. This unknown. A Jane Doe. Blanks that will never be filled.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you better,” I confess.
Guilt.
“Ryan, don’t.”
The knot in my throat makes my words painful to say, but I force them out. My confession. “I was right there. I heard the noise out back. If only I would have gone out there. Fuck, why didn’t I go out there sooner?”
“How could you have known?”
“I could have stopped it. Prevented it. But instead, I ignored it.” The whole time I knew there was someone back there, and I ignored it. I sat in my office while that girl fought so hard she had no nails left. “What have I done?” I breathe out, suddenly feeling the weight of the responsibility I now hold.
“You didn’t do anything,” she tries assuring me.
She’s right. I didn’t do anything. Nothing. I close my eyes, and I see it. The blood between her legs. The image I know will forever be with me. I toss the phone aside and rush to the bathroom, vomiting. Expelling the toxins, but not the images. Those remain.
Needing to move, needing to get out of the house, I drive up to work. I park out front and head straight to my office, shutting the door behind me.
Fuck. Why am I here?
There’s a knock on the door, and when I say, “Come in,” Max walks in.
“Everything all right, boss?”
“Shut the door,” I tell him, and he does.
“What’s going on?”
I didn’t get any sleep last night, and I feel like shit. I know I look it, and by the expression on his face, I know he sees it.
Folding my hands, I lean forward on my desk. “Something really fucked up happened here last night after you left.”
He walks over and takes a seat in the chair.
“A girl was raped out back,” I tell him.
“Christ,” he breathes as he drops his head.
I don’t say anything else. I’m not sure I can. We both sit there in silence as seconds pass by.
I finally speak the words that have me so fucked up. “I saw her.”
“The girl?”
“I heard her screaming, and when I went out there, he was on her.” I spin around in my chair and stare out the window that overlooks the street in front of the bar as it rains.
“I want cameras installed back there,” I tell him.
“I’m on it,” he responds. “You okay?”
Still facing the window, I admit, “I don’t know, man. That shit was fucked up.”
“Did the police come?”
When I turn back around to face him, I answer, “Yeah. I gave my statement, and they took her to the hospital.”
“Was she okay?”
“I don’t know. He beat her pretty badly. She was unconscious.”
“And the guy?”
“Don’t know. I had him for a moment, but I couldn’t keep him in my grip. I couldn’t leave the girl though, so he fled.” I take a minute before telling him, “I don’t want the girls walking to their cars alone. You and Chase need to be with them when they leave. Got it?”
“Of course.” He takes a moment before asking, “You sure you want to be up here?”
Looking up at him, I let him know, “I can’t be home. I need a distraction.”
“I hear ya,” he says then switches the topic, which I’m thankful for. “I talked with Chase earlier today, and he says he knows of a band that’s gotten pretty popular lately. If you’re tied up, I can get Michael to see about getting them booked for Saturday.”
“Nah, I’ll take care of it. Is he here?”
“Yeah, I’ll send him up,” he says as he stands and starts walking out. When he gets to the door, he turns back and says, “I’m here, man. If you ever . . .”
“Thanks.” His friendship is genuine. It always has been. I might not be a man of many words, but I stop him before he walks out and tell him, “I really appreciate it,” because I feel like he should know.
He gives a nod, accepting my words, and turns to head downstairs.
I spend the next few hours reviewing the financials and going over payroll. It’s Michael’s responsibility, but I absorb myself in it for the distraction. I speak with Chase, and I am able to contact one of the guys from the band he suggested and get them booked.
Filing some papers away, I notice the sky darkening. Somehow the day has passed, and I still feel like I’m on autopilot.
“God, please! Stop!”
I shake my head, trying to wash out the shrill of her voice. The panic.
There’s a soft knock on the door, and before I can say anything, it slowly opens.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when I see Gina step in and close the door behind her.
This is the last thing I need to deal with right now.
“I never heard from you last night.”
“I wasn’t feeling well,” I tell her. “Look, things are getting a little weird, and honestly, I’m just not feeling right about what we have going on.” I should have told her this the other day, but I know that I can’t keep having her come around, thinking that this has any value in it.
She sits down and questions, “What do you mean?”
Getting up from my chair, I walk around to the front of my desk and lean back against it in front of her. I need to lay it out there honestly for her so that there isn’t any confusion.
“I’m starting to feel like what’s going on between us is exactly what I try to avoid. It isn’t working for me, and I’d feel like an ass if I led you to think otherwise.”
She looks hurt. Proof that she’s feeling too much. She plays it off well though when she says, “Well, it was fun while it lasted, right?”
I don’t respond as I watch her stand up.
“Keep my number though,” she says before turning her back to me and walking out.
I release a deep breath. A failed attempt to make me feel better. Truth is, I’m in a haze. A cloud. My mind is elsewhere—it’s back in the alley. But that girl’s cloud is no doubt thicker and darker than mine right now.
Why didn’t I go out there sooner? What if I had?
“Fuck!” I grit out, slamming the door shut, knowing I’m at fault, that I could have done a lot more if only . . .
Walking through the back stockroom, I ask Mel, “Hey, have you seen Max or Michael?”
“Michael left a couple hours ago, and last I saw, Max was out back talking to Traci,” she tells me as she loads her arms with a case of beer, almost dropping it.
“Here. Give that to me,” I say, taking the heavy case from her. She follows me as I walk out and set the beer on the bar top. The place is starting to fill up. The band that Chase had recommended played here last week and really drew in a crowd. I went ahead and booked them again for tonight, and he wasn’t kidding when he said they were well-known around here.
I help Mel behind the bar, stocking the beer while she serves customers. When I catch Max heading to the front door, I shout, “Hey, Max!”
“What’s up?”
“You seen the guys yet?” I ask.
“Chasten is here, but I’m not sure about the others. Everything cool?”
“Yeah, if you see them before I do, tell them I need to talk with them before they go on tonight.”
“Got it,” he responds as he turns to head out to work the door.
I need to snag this band while I can. Getting them in a contract will alleviate the hassle of trying to book bands week after week. The guys seem pretty cool from what I got to know of them last week, which wasn’t a whole lot aside from the guitarist, Mark. He stayed late that night, drinking and bullshitting with me and Gavin after he was done playing.
Gavin tried leeching some chick on him but got a good laugh when he found out that his hard work with the girl went down the shitter when Mark told him he was gay. The look of disappointment, that he wouldn’t have another wingman, was something I selfishly took pleasure in.
He’s been on my case lately since I ditched him a couple of times this week. I haven’t been in the mood to go out just to find someone to use simply to make myself feel better. Ever since I saw that girl being attacked a couple weeks ago, it feels wrong.
“You got everything covered, Mel?”
“Yeah, Ry. I’m good,” she says, and I start making my way to the back.
I spot Chasten and Mark talking and announce, “Hey, guys, can you get the others and meet me in my office real quick?”
“Yeah, no problem,” Mark says and then introduces me, “Ryan, this is Jase, the guy I was telling you about.”
“Jase, man, good to meet you,” I say as I reach out to shake his hand.
“Yeah, same here,” he responds with a note of hesitation, but I don’t stick around ‘cause I’ve gotta get up to my office to talk with everyone. “I’ll catch up with you later, man.”
“Sounds good,” he says.
Once all the guys are in my office, I offer, “What do you guys think about making this gig a steady one?”
“You serious?” Aiden, the front vocalist, says.
“Yeah. I’m not gonna bullshit you guys. Finding bands is a bitch, so if you’re in at a ten percent pay increase, all you have to do is sign this simple contract and we’re good.”
I take the contract and hand it over to Aiden, who reads through it first and confirms, “I’m in,” before handing it over for the rest of the guys to read. When they are all on the same page with the agreement, they sign and call it a deal. Adding them to the payroll takes a load of stress off my back and simplifies my job even more.
When they leave to head down, I stay a little while to enter their info into our database. I write a note to Michael about the new payroll and employee additions and toss it on his desk before heading down. The band is just about to start playing when I make my way over to the bar and see Jase.
“Jase.” I move to stand next to him, leaning my elbows on the bar top. “You ever been here before?”
“Yeah. This crowd is a bit insane though,” he replies.
Watching Mel hand him his beer, I tell her, “Don’t bother with a tab, Mel.”
“Thanks, man,” he says as he turns to me.
“No problem.”
The music starts blasting through the bar when I say, “Your guy’s band is fuckin’ popular. They brought in a huge crowd last time they played here as well.”
He keeps his focus on the stage, not responding, so I leave it and ask, “You go to school together?”
“Yeah,” he hollers over the music. “We’re in the same major.”
“And what’s that?”
“Architecture.”
“That’s cool,” I say and then turn to yell for Mel to grab me a beer.
“Ryan! Fuck, man!” I hear Gavin shout with irritation from behind me.
I turn and question, “What?”
“That chick you flung on me last night was a fuckin’ psycho.”
Ignoring his complaint, I turn to Jase and say, “Jase, this is my dick of a friend, Gavin.”
“What the fuck ever,” Gavin says as he laughs. He looks to Jase and warns, “Watch out for this dipshit, and don’t let him hook you up with anyone. His matchmaking skills suck balls.”
“Find your own ass, Gav. I’m not your fuckin’ hookup,” I let him know because I’m not into his game tonight.