The Hunted (12 page)

“I hear you rocking out with that shitty boom box and see you painting.”

“You can’t see me?”

He points with a finger to a tiny crack in the curtains. “Right there I can.”

“Holy shit,” I murmur.

“I love it when you paint in that little white tank top and pink lace undies. Your face is so concentrated.”

“You spy on me?”

He chuckles. “Junior, I just make sure you’re okay before I leave for the night and when I get back home.”

“You confuse me.” I lay my head down on his chest.

“What’s up with that one?” He points to his painting.

“That’s you,” I whisper.

V
an walked
me to work and then took up his barstool and immediately fired up a conversation with Stew. It seems something is seriously wrong, and I don’t ask any questions at all since I’m still digesting all the information from today. Not to mention the fact I’m haunted with feeling him in and on me.

“Can you cover my shift?” I look up to one of the new dancers staring at me as I wipe off a table.

“Excuse me?”

“I need someone to cover my last performance and Stew told me to ask you.”

“No.” I bring the rag to my chest. “And that’s a hell no.”

“C’mon. It’s a weekday and very slow.”

“Do you even know my name?” I cock my head to the side.

She bites her lower lip as she fiddles with her long bright blonde hair. “No, but please. My son is sick and I need to get home.”

Oh fuck, not the child card.

“Please.” Her voice is whiny as hell as she bounces from foot to foot.

I look over to Stew who has a shit eating grin plastered on his face and then to Van, who is a little preoccupied by another stripper who’s straddling his lap and currently trying to go for his lips. Red is the color I see and feel as I watch the scene playing out before me.

This being the same man who was just inside me, took my virginity, and shared a meal with me. The fucker stole my heart too. I feel it sink lower than I ever thought possible as I see the wreck play out in slow motion right in front of me. The desperate stripper keeps talking, but it’s all a blur as my world begins to spin out of control.

I had no idea what pain felt like until this moment. Not just any pain but devastating heart wrenching and painful stabs to my soul. As quick as the pain hits anger mixes in, then I really see red.

“So?”

“So fucking what?” My knees buckle as I turn back to the girl.

“My shift.” Her eyebrows disappear into her hairline. “It’s a private party of only a few guys.”

I’m not sure if it’s jealousy or the mind numbing agony throttling my spine. “Fine. Whatever.”

I stomp away without another thought and fight like hell to ignore her victory cries filling the bar. The tray in my hand slams down on the counter with a loud crashing sound, sending glasses flying in every direction. A single ice cube flies over the bar onto Stew’s side.

“Don’t be so mad, kid. They’ve been asking for you. It’s a small party and a good start.”

“I fucking quit. I’m done with this shithole. I’ll dance, and I’m done.”

The sound of lips parting pulls my attention from staring Stew down to turning to see Van looking at me with his lips covered in red lipstick and the whore is still on his lap.

“You’re not quitting.”

“Excuse me?” I step closer to Van.

He lifts the woman from his lap and sets her to the side. “You’re not fucking quitting.”

“I already did.”

“And you’re not stripping.”

“Why do you fucking care?” I take a step back as I start to feel tears build up and refuse to let the asshole see any emotion. He doesn’t take my scooting away as a sign because in the next moment, he’s off of the barstool and in my face. The overwhelming floral scent from the woman who was just nestled in his lap attacks all of my senses.

“Fucking listen to me. You’re not stripping and you’re not fucking quitting.”

“I am.” I attempt to walk away, but he catches my wrist before I’m able to.

“I’m protecting you, Bay.”

“Rich, real fucking rich, Van, protecting me? You just fucking destroyed every part of me and you think you’re protecting me.”

“It’s all for show. I’ll explain when we get home. I can’t let the world know you’re mine because then you’ll have a target on your fucking back,” he barks.

This time I’m able to escape without him pulling me back. And the tears burst through and have no fucking hopes of stopping. Game over. The end. I’m done. I rip my apron from my waist and send it flying to the nearby table and keep walking towards the exit. This time I could give a shit about the dollar bills that fly from it and how many tips I made tonight.

Fuck this city life and art school, I’m going home. I hear Stew call my name as I grip the handle to the door but don’t stop as I step out into the night air and for the first time in a long time I feel free as a sense of peace washes over me. The salty tears don’t stop as I let everything go.

I pull my cell phone from my bra and begin dialing my mom’s number. More than likely she won’t answer but just the sound of her voice even on her voicemail is all I need right now. It will give me just enough strength to pack up my shit and catch the next bus.

“Bay.”

It’s that motherfucking deep voice that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

“Van, leave me alone.” I stop and turn to him.

I jump back when I notice it’s not Van but Argo with a shiny gold badge shining brightly on the dimly lit street.

“I need you to come with me please?”

“Excuse me?”

He steps in closer to me and I freeze seeing Van and wanting to vomit everywhere. Even when trying to run from the man, I can’t get far enough without being haunted by him.

“I need to ask you a few questions about some suspicious activity around your apartment building.”

I hear his words but definitely don’t comprehend one of them or even have the energy to put them together to make sense. He takes my silence as confusion.

“There’s been another body found, and it was near your place. Actually in the alley right behind it and I just need to talk to you about it. I can give you a ride down to the station if you feel more comfortable.”

The silence before the storm settles in between us as I feel the vortex of bile building up. He continues talking about the victim and her mutilated body. It’s the same scenario that’s been played out on the news day after day. In fact, the thirteenth victim.

“We’re pretty confident this time that we can find the killer since the victim has DNA under her nails.”

“DNA?” I ask.

“Yes, it appears she fought back and clawed him. This bastard is going down, but we just need your help.”

The erupting cyclone in my belly spills over as I hear the details and then me needing to be a part of it. I barely turn my head before I puke all over the sidewalk instead of my and Argo’s shoes. He steps back as I wretch and gag, expelling all the contents from my belly.

“Why me?” I whisper.

I feel his hand grab my elbow. “I’m sorry, Bay, are you ready to go?”

I don’t answer him as he guides me over to his patrol car.

“Do you think I know the killer?” My fingers dig into my thighs.

He doesn’t answer me as he tries to shove me into the car.

“I forgot my phone. I need to go back in and grab it.”

All of my instincts kick in, and I know something is off. He squeezes the top of my arm until it hurts. I notice pictures sprawled out over his seat and they’re of a victim. Matted brown hair, blood caked everywhere her skin is torn. I fight to look away from the pictures but my gaze lands on a delicate baby blue bracelet around her wrist with daisy flowers on it. Someone loved her and gave her that … my stomach whirls again as I’m yanked back by Argo and slammed up against the patrol car.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Get in the fucking car.”

“No, I haven’t done anything.” I tug harder against his powerful grasp. Something in his eyes scares the shit out of me. He’s determined on his end game. It’s the first time in my life that the shiny gold badge is terrifying.

I feel his knee nudge up between my legs as he breathes down in my ear. “Has my brother had you?”

“You can’t do this to me.”

I give one last ditch effort to escape him and when I push off of him with all my might my legs tangle together, and I fly to the ground. A deafening noise fills me as my skull collides into the eroded asphalt of the alley. Fireworks erupt in my head, sending a shrilling pain throughout my entire body.

I hear more voices but take a minute to process it. My hands move in slow motion to my forehead. Blood dribbles down my skin.

“You motherfucker.”

“Van, you threatening an officer?”

My vision focuses in on Van, who’s being held back by three other men.

“You stay the hell away from her and this bar.”

“I’ll be around, you piece of shit. It was the best day of my life arresting you the first time, and I look forward to it the second time around.”

Sirens streaming from another cop car interrupt the whole screwed up situation. Stew holds up a cordless phone to Argo. “I called the cops.”

“I am the law,” Argo hisses.

“No, you’re a jealous piece of shit,” Stew fires back.

I can barely make out their conversation since Van continues to fight to get free. I pray the two burly men behind him keep him secured because I can only imagine what would go down if he got loose.

Stew steps up to the new officer. “I have a lawsuit against Argo Hollis and he’s been told to keep his distance until it’s over.”

The officer is the complete opposite of Argo. Cool, calm, and collected and listening to everything Stew has to say. I listen intently, wanting to know more about the whole situation but only grasp bits and pieces of it. Stew is suing Argo and the city for harassment.

Once he has Stew calmed down, he leans down in front of me. “Are you okay, ma’am?”

“Get the fuck away from her now!”

The officer glares over to Van, who is now thrashing out of control.

I nod, hoping he’ll get away.

“Who did this?” he asks.

I point to Argo.

“Would you like to file a police report?”

I shake my head no. I’m in too much pain to say a word. Fear now laces every single one of my actions and thoughts.

“Please get in contact with me if you need anything.” He holds out a card to me, but Stew plucks it from him before I can move.

“Like I said earlier, there’s an official lawsuit in place protecting Van Hollis and me. Argo’s not welcome around here. He’s done enough fucking damage to innocent people.”

In a matter of minutes the cop cars and most of the onlookers disappear from the alley.

Stew gets right into Van’s face, spitting his words out. “Get your fucking head on right, son. I love you like my own kid, and I’m not going to watch you get fucking killed because of your temper.” He turns back to the club door, yelling at everyone to get back to work.

The men release Van but stay near us. He moves in slow motion, dropping to his knees next to me. I stare long and hard at him seeing Argo in his features. They’re fucking identical but couldn’t be anymore opposite.
How in the hell does that happen?

“You need to go to the hospital,” he whispers into my ear. Van snakes his arms around me, tugging me onto his lap as he rests back on his boots. His touch undoes all of me.

“I want to go home. I want my mom.” My words are barely audible through my wracking sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Bay.” He brushes back the hair matted to the dried blood on my forehead, and I can tell he’s examining the wound on my head. My thoughts drift back to the pictures on Argo’s seat. The goose egg planted on my forehead is nothing compared to what was done to that young girl. Her clothes torn from her body.

“It’s not your fault,” I finally answer him.

“Fuck, Junior, I didn’t want anyone to know how much I care for you. You’ll become a target, but when I saw that motherfucker forcing himself on you, I saw red.”

“Van.” I peer up into his eyes. “Will you take me home?”

“Yeah, baby, I’ll take you home.” He runs his hand over the top of my head and places delicate kisses everywhere. I’m not sure how long we sit there until I’m taken into the club and into an employee bathroom to clean up. After several minutes, Van finally leaves my side.

I tremble when I don’t even recognize the girl looking back at me in the mirror. She’s hollow and hurt. The crusted blood washes away easily when the warm water flows over it. The beginning stages of bruises don’t fade nor does the large bump. The blood is just another reminder of the pictures I saw in Argo’s car and I shudder.

The bathroom door slams open, startling me from my spiraling thoughts. Honey stands behind me with her hands on her hips.

“Listen here, bitch. I don’t know what you’ve done to Van.”

“Excuse me?” My voice shakes with each word.

Preying on my weak state, she closes the space between us. “He won’t touch me. Hasn’t since you watched him fucking me in the hallway. He used to fuck me every day and now nothing.”

“Get out of my way.” I don’t have the energy to fight back or deal with trash like her right now. My head begins to throb again, and I know I need to get the hell out of this bathroom. I brush past her, without saying a word.

When I step out of the bathroom Van’s staring at me from the corner of the bar. The two giants of men are near him along with Stew, and they’re all deep in conversation.

“You’re just another one of his dirty whores. He’ll be back to licking my pussy in a week.”

There’s a slice of silence that takes over my entire body right before rage is unleashed. Not just any rage, but an uncontrollable feeling that overwhelms all of my senses. I’m so far past seeing red at this moment I go straight into a dangerous storm of black. Agitation and fury rampage through me, shredding any humanity I have left right now.

Honey continues to blow her shit out of her mouth and doesn’t even see me coming for her.

“Listen here, you cunt.” I whirl around, wrapping my small hand around her neck and squeezing. “Van is mine, so get the fuck over it.”

I ball up the fist of my free hand, cock it back as far as I can and then swing with all my might. Honey drops to the floor in an instant.

“Jesus, Bay.” I feel Van’s arms wrap around my waist, tugging me back.

“I told you I want to go home.”