3
Bea
The nightclub was absolutely booming. I was almost afraid of going deaf, so I’d given up on the conversation I’d been trying to have with Claire about my father and given in to the music instead. By now, I’d enjoyed a few drinks, and we’d been dancing our troubles away as if there was nothing in the world to worry about. Every now and then I would pause to worry whether my father would criticize me for turning up with a croaky voice the next day and interrogate me about the kind of activities I was wasting my life on, but the alcohol was helping me to dismiss such concerns and focus on the moment.
I was content enough until Claire’s conversation with a handsome but dim-looking guy resulted in my friend putting her arms around his neck, leaving me feeling like a bit of a third wheel. I had no idea what the two of them had been able to say to reach such a moment with the dance music bouncing off their eardrums, but I guess the boy must have been smarter than he looked in order to turn every fourth word into such a success. My last drink seemed to have gone straight through me, so I decided to head to the bathroom at that point rather than hang off Claire like a leech while she enjoyed the male attention.
Up until then, our time at the club had passed without incident, even though it seemed like quite a sleazy place. I’d noticed the occasional set of eyes upon me, but no one had tried to talk to me—something that came as a bit of a relief seeing as most of the guys here seemed quite arrogant. But now, as I headed towards the bathroom, it was impossible to avoid turning my head when I heard a man cry out from the balcony above.
“Hey, sweet-cheeks, come up here and sit on my lap!”
I peered at the man who was shouting down at me. It was dim in the club, but I could see that he was bald and heavy-set with several gold chains hanging from around his neck, and he was surrounded by several dodgy-looking guys and five tall model-type women.
“Hey!” he called again. “Get up here, sexy-legs!”
The guy clearly had a fine set of pipes for being heard above the drum and bass, but there was little else fine about him that I found appealing, and I immediately regretted turning to see who the comment was directed at upon realizing that I was the target. Usually I wouldn’t have even acknowledged that kind of behavior, so I was annoyed at myself for even looking at all. I quickly turned away and made sure my face credited the comment with no expression whatsoever; neither shock, nor offence, nor indignity, aiming to give the loudmouth as little satisfaction whatsoever from temporarily getting my attention.
The moment did make me feel a little self-conscious, however, and before entering the bathroom, I happened to glance back towards the bar in the hope of relieving my mind of the paranoia that everyone else in the club was also looking my way as a result. Unfortunately, although this didn’t turn out to be true, it wasn’t completely false either.
Over at the bar, there was a man who was clearly looking at me, having turned around to do so, and I paused. He wasn’t making obscene requests or gestures like the man from the balcony, but it was clear that I’d somehow caught his attention which, I supposed, was likely because of the lewd comment that had been shouted at me. Our eyes met, and I couldn’t help my lips from curling up in a smile as I took in his dark hair, smoldering eyes and chiseled features. He was simply too handsome to not smile at.
By standing there staring, I was going against the wisdom I usually followed in repelling unwanted male attention, but there was something out of place about this guy’s focus that caused me to stop. There was a pretty blonde next to him, for a start—one that I wouldn’t have expected to compete with knowing that most guys seemed to prefer blonde hair and long legs—though there was also something intense about his gaze that suggested additional factors were at work. What they might be was ambiguous, but I thought I saw concern rather than craving, even though I’d never seen the man before.
Then again, the behavior of weirdos was difficult to interpret, and there was definitely something rough and uncertain about him despite how sexy he was. Giving in to my default wisdom and turning away at last, I felt silly for having stood there so long, and I rushed to get to the bathroom and out of sight. My senses had clearly become jumbled by other events in my life, and I wasn’t responding to male attention in a sensible way.
Maybe nightclubs were a poor choice of location for forgetting your troubles after all, with all the further dilemmas they had a habit of presenting.
There was a massive queue for the bathroom but thanks to Claire, who really had a knack of discovering shortcuts, I’d been tipped off earlier that the private staff bathroom at the end of the hallway was in fact open for the use of a select few. It was presumably intended for VIPs, but the information had filtered down to me, and so that was where I headed. Once I’d gone through an additional door into the ladies section, I saw that none of the four cubicles were occupied, and I thought that I might stay inside one of them for a few minutes just to collect my thoughts.
The absence of personal happiness from my life was following me around, and I was realizing the fact that there was no escaping my discontent with a night on the town. Deep contemplation and some real answers were required, because I couldn’t go on holding everything inside. If I did, my frustrations might just burst forth into something rash and careless, like falling for some stranger in a bar because he looked like he belonged to a life I knew I could never lead nor understand.
I’d just closed the door of the cubicle and was about to pull down my panties when the sound of someone else entering caused me to pause. They were flat feet rather than heels that sounded off the tiled floor, and my heart skipped a beat, but surely this was more paranoia. I was about to shake my head and dismiss the idea that the man at the bar had followed me when I heard a familiar leering tone call out.
“There’s a pretty little puta in here if I’m not mistaken.”
My heart sank. It was worse than I feared. Not the man at the bar, but the loudmouth sleaze from the balcony. I could hear the chink of gold chains coming closer, though he didn’t rush to seek me out. The imbecile had come to scare and taunt me more—if I was lucky.
“What’s the matter, puta?” he asked when I didn’t reply. “Too snotty and upmarket to speak to a guy like me? Let me tell you, girl, if you think those rich boys you hang with are real men, you haven’t lived.”
There was a sinister tone to his voice, and I sensed this was a man used to getting what he wanted. I had no idea what to do, so I stayed as silent as possible. I looked at the lock on my cubicle and saw that it was still firmly fixed, but my hands were still shaking anyway; shaking with a fear I wasn’t really in touch with because the whole scenario felt so surreal. I knew the nightmare was really happening, but that clarity brought no solution or even any hope of escape.
“Doesn’t sound like you’re actually doing anything in there,” came the voice again, this time from just outside the cubicle door, causing me to shiver in knowing he was only an arm’s reach away. “I think your sweet ass is ripe for showing me a good time. You’re just playing hard to get.”
God, the man was disgusting.
I didn’t know whether I had it in me to scream, but I knew that the music in the club meant no one would hear me anyway. Instead, I sat with my legs curled up on the toilet. So far, I hadn’t made a sound, and it was a desperate hope to suppose the man might not be one-hundred percent certain I was in here and that the door was closed because it was out of order. It was a foolish hope, but it was all I had left.
“Oh, but there’s a door in my way,” he said next, his words accompanied by a cracking noise that delivered a painful sense of expectation when I realized it was the sound of knuckles being stretched. “Let’s see what we can do about that...”
The door burst open, smashing against the inside of the cubicle and back again, and an imposing figure flashed into view then disappeared, but not for long, because the door was no longer locked and gently swung back to open again. I knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he was trying to put his hands on me, and I saw that he was bigger than I’d initially realized when he was shouting lewd comments across the nightclub.
“Hey there, puta,” he said, his thick lips kissing the name out as his eyes lit up at finding me there.
I could see he definitely wasn’t teasing, and he was relishing the fact that I was cowering. My horror was simply his to enjoy and wouldn’t bite at his conscience; terrorizing women was obviously the sort of thing he did frequently. Why hadn’t I paid more attention when I’d first seen him? This man had all the air of someone who had risen to king of the ghetto and was the embodiment of my father’s motivation for being tough on crime; I just hadn’t ever expected such a creature to materialize before me. We belonged to different worlds, but I’d been a fool to suppose I couldn’t become a victim of the other.
“You’ve got a really sweet ass on you there,” he went on. “I gotta see it in action.”
“Leave me alone,” I managed to blurt out. My voice sounded weak and pathetic in the attempt.
“Some people are a little scared of me. You’re not the only one,” he replied, “but I know you want it. You might be scared, but I bet your pussy isn’t dry and unwelcoming. Let’s put it to the test, huh?”
So far he’d still kept his distance, but on making this suggestion his hands went to his waist, undid his belt, then unzipped his pants.
“Don’t touch me!” I said. Another empty warning. He wasn’t going to stop.
“Oh, come on. We’re just gonna have some fun,” he replied, stepping forward and grabbing my right arm.
“No!” I screamed.
He took no notice. As he lifted me up off the toilet seat, I tried to kick out, aiming towards his groin area, but I might as well have been a doll in his grip. One hand ran underneath my top, and my trembling body froze with shock again. I told myself to try and kick out again, but I was completely paralyzed with fear.
No one knew where I was—I’d told Claire I was going to the bathroom, but she’d probably assume I went to the main bathroom—and I was quickly being overpowered. If I didn’t do something to defend myself soon, this man was going to rape me, and the thought of that was enough to snap me out of my frozen state. I kicked, screamed and struggled against the man, but once again, it was all to no avail. He was simply too big and strong, and the more I tried to fight him off, the more it seemed to encourage him
Soon he had me pressed up against the wall and, as loathsome as his touch and his hot breath on my neck was, I couldn’t move at all. I redoubled my efforts to break free from his grip, but he only laughed and pulled me forward before slamming me up against the wall even harder. The breath flew out of my lungs from the impact, and I struggled to get enough oxygen through my nose as I winced in pain.
“It’s adorable how hard you’re trying to pretend you don’t want it,” the man said, voice dripping with condescending amusement as he stared down at me. “Really cute.”
I felt sick to my stomach, and my body suddenly went limp against the wall, as if every muscle in my body had realized my struggles were useless and given up. In a last ditch attempt to find help, I opened my mouth to scream again, but the man grinned and pressed a finger to my lips.
“Don’t scream again. You don’t even want to know what’ll happen if you do,” he said as one hand slid up my thigh and crept towards my panties.
“You can’t…” I choked out a few words, my voice hoarse from fear. “You can’t do this. I’ve seen your face now, and I’ll be able to tell the police. You won’t get away with it.”
His hard face twisted into a smirk. “What makes you think you’ll be in any condition to tell anyone anything when I’m finished with you, puta?”
My blood ran cold. I knew what that meant.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Let me go. I won’t tell the police, I swear. Just let me go. Please!”
He laughed, amused by how quickly I’d changed my mind in order to save myself. “You shouldn’t have threatened me,” he said. “Maybe I would’ve fucked you and left you here if you hadn’t, but now…now you’re a problem. I’m still gonna fuck you, but then…”
He trailed off, but his words dripped with threatening intent, and I closed my eyes as my shoulders slumped. I’d made things even worse for myself by trying to stop what was coming, and this was the end.
This man was going to kill me tonight.