Alena

 

It was a long and nearly sleepless night after I drove home from Cole’s. Now that I had been to the bar and seen for myself the way these people lived, I was both disgusted and more intrigued than ever.

 

On the one hand, they treated women like things. Less than human. And the girls seemed to like it! That was the most baffling thing of all. I’d raised Sara with more self-respect. The more I thought about it, the less sense it made for my sister to be associated with those pigs.

 

And they were pigs, for sure. Not just because they were misogynists, but because they were flat-out disgusting. Sloppy, beer guzzling, hairy beasts. Smoking cigarettes and cigars like they were going out of style, hooting and hollering over some skank on a stage. It was gross.

 

What had attracted my sister, my sweet and pretty sister, to this world? It was a mystery. Did she actually enjoy spending time with them? I couldn’t imagine a person as smart as her having anything in common with them. What would they have talked about? It wasn’t like making conversation was a strong suit for any of them.

 

And yet…it was exciting. I couldn’t deny it. For a sheltered person—and I knew I’d sheltered my sister her entire life—the club must have seemed like an interesting, fresh, vibrant world. Maybe I’d done wrong by her when I kept her focused on school and hard work. I should have told her more about life. Now she had to learn the hard way. That was the case for most people, I knew. Learning through mistakes. Only this mistake might have cost Sara her life. This wasn’t just a simple stupid thing a teenager might do when they were testing their limits.

 

Eventually, I gave up trying to sleep, going down to practice on the piano instead. Playing always soothed me. Some people ran to clear their heads. I played music.

 

I was only messing around, letting the sounds from my fingers on the keys speak my troubled thoughts. I stayed down in the lower octaves. It was dark, brooding music.

 

I remembered how it felt to make out with Cole, what it was like to be in his presence. I could see how it was easy to fall into this world if someone had kissed Sara the way Cole had kissed me. In that last moment, before I pulled away, I was ready to give myself over to him. I had felt the same way at the bar, like I was a split second away from stepping over the line. I wanted to see how far he could take me. I hadn’t felt passion like that ever before in my life. It was almost too much to handle. It had hurt, the ache I felt from his mouth and hands on me. My lips were still a little sore from his rough treatment.

 

It was intoxicating, like a drug. Was it like that for her? If so, I could at least partially understand why she wouldn’t stay away. I wondered vaguely if it was Cole she’d been hooking up with—after all, he was the person anyone saw her with. Were they together? If so, and he had lied to my face, he was even colder than I’d originally thought.

 

I played on, remembering the moments between us. The way my pulse had raced, the blood rushing in my ears. He oozed sex appeal, and that sense of danger that followed him. Anything could happen at any moment when he was involved.

 

Hadn’t I sworn off men like him years ago? I did my best to be a good example to Sara. I’d wanted to show her that a mother figure could be totally dedicated to her, the way our mother never was. So even though I always felt drawn to the excitement and sexiness of bad boys, I’d told myself to stay away from them at all costs.

 

Here I was again, turned on by a man worse than all of those boys put together.

 

I played harder, fingers pounding the keys. Like the storm that was in my soul. Disgusted by him, turned on by him. Wanting him, wanting to destroy him and everything he stood for.

 

I slammed my hands on the keys, then slammed the lid shut. It was no use.

 

###

 

I didn’t have any students that day, which was good since I was even more distracted than I’d been when Carol came in the day before. My students deserved my attention, and they were getting less and less of it the longer Sara was missing.

 

There was only one thing I could imagine doing that night. Going back to the bar.

 

Cole’s warnings repeated in my head over and over like they were on a loop. I should keep my nose out of business that didn’t concern me. I should stay away before it was too late. I could get myself hurt, or worse.

 

I still didn’t understand how anyone could consider this not being my business. This was my sister, my family. The only family I had. Cole told me he would have killed the person who hurt one of his guys. Why didn’t he understand how I had to feel the same way? Though I wasn’t sure I could kill a person if it came down to that. But I understood the rage. Some of it had come out when I was kissing Cole in the car. If I couldn’t break him down with my words, I’d use everything else in me to get him to understand the way this was tearing me apart.

 

I had to go back. I hoped I could be a little cleverer tonight than I was the night before, when Cole knew I was following him. I couldn’t let him see me tonight. But I had to do a little more looking around. I’d spoken to him and gotten nowhere. Maybe I could find another person, someone more sympathetic. Maybe one of the girls.

 

Yes! That made sense! The idea energized me, gave me more focus. I could talk to one of the girls, maybe more than one. Even in the short time I’d spent at the bar, I’d noticed the way the girls seemed to congregate together. Like they were waiting to be told what to do. I pushed my distaste aside for the time being and told myself this would work in my favor. They must have known her. They would know who she was seeing at the time she disappeared. Maybe she’d told them something about her life, the sort of things she wouldn’t tell me. Something she’d heard or seen. Or maybe something about the person she was hooking up with. Was he violent? Did he know too much, something he’d shared with her and gotten her into trouble as a result? The possibilities were endless. I would only know once I got the chance to bend their ear.

 

I wore a tight tank top and skinny jeans, along with a pair of knee-high boots with high heels. It was the way I’d seen the other girls dressing. Maybe they would accept me a little more easily if I looked more like them.

 

I got there early, hoping Cole wouldn’t even be around yet. Hoping enough people hadn’t gotten a good look at me the night before when I confronted him in front of the entire bar. Why had I made such a big scene, anyway? All I had done was make myself more visible.

 

I pulled up in the parking lot, happy to see only a small number of cars and bikes there. My heart was racing a mile a minute. What would they do to me? I didn’t know, but then it seemed pretty minimal in the face of finding out what happened to Sara. She was worth it.

 

There was a man standing outside, smoking a cigarette. I didn’t recognize him from the night before. Good. He wouldn’t know who I was. At least, I hoped no one had talked about me.

 

“Hi there,” I said, approaching him. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.” He was tall, lanky, longish auburn hair brushing against the collar of his t-shirt. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, or shaved for that matter. There were dark circles under his eyes. If he took care of himself, he might have been a good-looking man. The way he looked right now, if I had been walking toward him on the street, I would have crossed to the other side.

 

I realized he might not even be a member of the club—he wasn’t wearing a kutte, the way the rest of the members did. If he wasn’t closely affiliated, it might be easier for me to get information from him.

 

He looked me up and down with steel-gray eyes. “Maybe you could help me with something.” He snickered. Great. Another gentleman. Never in a million years, buddy, I thought.

 

I smiled tightly. “Yeah. Anyway, I’m looking for my sister. Sara DeGrom. She was last seen with one of your club’s members, and that was weeks ago. Did you know her? She looks a lot like me, only younger. She’s eighteen.” I watched as the man thought about it. What was he actually thinking, though? And could I believe anything he said?

 

“Listen, sister. I think it would be a good idea for you to get the hell out of here.” He stubbed out his smoke, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “Don’t mess around with shit you don’t know anything about.”

 

Again with this? “I understand,” I spat. “You’re all too cowardly to tell the truth.” I didn’t want to see if he reacted, turning toward the door instead. I expected him to stop me, but he didn’t. Was this the company like? Shutting down any and all outsiders? Not letting them into club business? But why was this club business in the first place? If it was, that meant they were related to her disappearance somehow. Didn’t they know that their refusal to open up only made them look guilty?

 

The sun was going down when I stepped inside the bar, the dimness of the room echoing the dimness of twilight. I looked around. It was much quieter than it had been the night before, by far, with only a handful of girls getting the place ready for the evening’s fun. They were wiping down the counter at the bar, taking chairs off of tabletops, stacking glasses at the bar. Free labor. I was sure that later on they’d be called upon to do other tasks less closely associated with cleaning. It turned my stomach.

 

“What are you doing here?” One of them, the redhead I’d seen on Cole’s lap, spotted me right away. She didn’t look or sound happy to see me. The rest of the girls froze like frightened rabbits, looking at each other.

 

I cleared my throat and tried to smile. It would be easier if they trusted me. “I was hoping one of you, maybe more than one, could tell me something about my sister.”

 

They were all silent. The only sound in the room was the gentle humming of neon signs. I spoke again. “Please, girls. I know she was hanging out here for a while, maybe hooking up with one of the guys in the club. I just wanted to know if any of you knew who it was, or whether she was…you know…unhappy with him. Anything at all. Even if it hurts to hear. I mean, was she into drugs, maybe? Drinking too much? Did she hear something she shouldn’t have? Was somebody hurting her?”

 

One of the girls, a little brunette I recognized as the girl dancing on stage the previous evening, opened her mouth. The redhead shot her a warning look before speaking again.

 

“None of us knows anything. Okay?”

 

I sighed. “That’s a little too much for me to believe. You mean she was never in here with you? She didn’t do the same things you’re doing right now? You girls never talked the way girls do? Come on.”

 

They frowned. One girl bit her lip, looking unsure of herself.

 

“Girls, I’m desperate. I’m afraid my sister is dead or dying somewhere. Please. Anything you tell me might help me. I just need to know something. Nobody else wants to talk, and I’m losing my mind.”

 

Redhead held up a hand. “It’s a shame Sara is missing. She’s a nice girl. Everybody liked her.” The other girls nodded enthusiastically. “But none of us knows what happened.” She looked at me, her eyes getting wider. “Do you get what I’m saying? None of us knows.”

 

Shit. They were scared. Who or what was threatening them? Maybe this was their way of life. They couldn’t speak up for fear of punishment. Had Sara broken that code? I knew her. She could be just as mouthy as me, just as stubborn, too. It would be just like her to mouth off to the wrong person.

 

I almost couldn’t blame them. They’d probably been seduced into this life, just the way my sister had. They must have seen it as glamorous and exciting—why else would they be doing it? Then reality kicked in. They probably all had daddy issues, too. Feeling like they needed approval and protection. It was very sad. Still, at the moment, I couldn’t feel sorry for them. I could only be disgusted and angry with them.

 

“Okay. I see I’m getting nowhere here. Thanks anyway, girls.” I turned, disappointed. The wind was out of my sails again. Why did it always seem so inevitable that someone would take pity on me until I got to the club? I would be driving over, sure they would hear my story and feel sorry for me. It couldn’t be any other way. Then I would get there and hit a brick wall all over again. These people couldn’t be for real.

 

I stepped outside, where it was dark now. The place would be jumping in a little while. Should I stick around and see if there was anyone else who might talk to me? Probably not. If the girls wouldn’t, why would a member? There was more at stake for them. Plus, Cole might see me. I couldn’t risk having him see me and freak out.

 

I barely had time to take a deep breath before a hand closed around my upper arm. My instinct was to scream, but a large and powerful hand clamped over my mouth before I could get the sound out. The fingers dug into my cheek. “Shut up! Don’t you dare try to scream!” A harsh whisper in my ear.

 

I was dragged off to the side of the building. It was deep in shadow back there. I was shoved against the wall so hard my bones rattled.

 

“What are you doing here?” The breath was hot in my ear. I couldn’t turn my head to see who this was. It wasn’t Cole—somehow I would have known him. He was graceful even with all his bulk. This man was clumsy, rough. His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. I knew it had to be the guy I’d talked to before I went in. Nobody else had gone outside since then, and he never came in.

 

“I’m sorry,” I gasped, nearly unable to breathe over the panic I felt. What was he going to do to me? I tried to turn my head, to see his face, but he pushed the side of my head against the wall, so my eyes were directed to the parking lot.

 

“You need to stop coming around here. Get it? Otherwise, you’re gonna end up just like your sister.” Suddenly I felt the tiniest bit of pressure against my throat. I looked down and was just able to see the glint of steel. A knife. Sheer terror washed over me.

 

“I’ll stop!” I panted, breath coming from me in wheezing gasps. “Please, just let me go.”

 

“Why don’t I believe you?”

 

I felt the tip of the knife press into my throat. I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut.

 

“Oh, please, please, let me go. I’ll leave right now. I’ll never come back, I swear.” I would say anything to get him to take that knife away and let me go.

 

He snickered. I smelled the liquor on his breath. It oozed from his pores, making his sweat reek. I wanted to turn my head further away, but that hard little blade kept me from making any sudden movements. A tear slipped from my eye, ran down my face. I was on the verge of all-out hysteria. And he was like a kid with a bug, pinned down, watching it squirm before he pulled off the wings.

 

“I wonder if I should kill you right now,” he whispered.

 

I let out a little shriek. “No! Please, don’t. Please, I swear, I’ll never come back here again.”

 

“And you’ll stop asking questions about shit that doesn’t concern you?” he demanded.

 

“Yes! Yes, I’ll stop. I’ll stay out of your business.”

 

“Because it is our business. Not yours. Got it?”

 

“Of course! I get it! Please, please, let me go. You won’t see me again.” The knife pressed ever so slightly harder into my throat, making me whimper desperately. I was shaking all over, my eyes darting around the side of the building. Why didn’t anybody come out or pull up?

 

Just then, somebody did. The screen door slammed. Nobody came around to the side of the building, but it was enough to make the knife disappear from my throat. I was free now, the man who was threatening me backing away when we heard the noise. There was just enough room for me to run past him, back to the car. I was out of the parking lot in the blink of an eye, the tires squealing on the road as I peeled away.

 

I was nearly hyperventilating, the images in front of my eyes going in and out of color and focus. I pulled over a mile or two down the road, cutting the engine and lights before burying my head in my arms and shaking with sobs. Would he have killed me? Had I just come close to dying? Or was he only toying with me? I screamed, frustrated and terrified. I screamed the way I wanted to scream when that knife was making contact with me.

 

It was a close enough call, regardless of whether he’d been trying to scare me or if he’d seriously intended to kill me, right there in the open beside the bar. I touched my fingertips to my throat, checking for blood. There was the tiniest hint of red there. He’d just barely broken the skin. This was a man who was skilled with a knife, for sure, because I’d felt as though it was only a hair’s breadth from slicing through me. For someone as drunk as he’d been—my nose wrinkled when I remembered how his breath had smelled—he was still in control of himself.

 

Once I got myself under control, I turned the car on and drove home. The rush of adrenaline was starting to wear off, and I felt weak and exhausted. The terror hadn’t worn off, though. Just because every minute took me a little further from that awful bar, I didn’t feel any safer. I had the feeling I’d gone too far this time. Would they find me and shut me up permanently?