I have experienced more emotions than ever before since being with Nate, and the hate that I tried to hold onto for so long is slowly seeping away, being replaced by something else. Something I’m not ready to admit yet.
I wash my hands in the sink and turn to face the drier, holding my hands underneath and letting the water droplets run from my fingertips.
My feet are starting to ache from the dancing, but I am nowhere near done yet. If I am being given this night as a ‘freebie’ of sorts, then I am damn well going to see it through to the end.
Zoey is amazing, like a friend I have never had. Meeting her has been like a breath of fresh air, and although she is my husband’s sister, she has assured me that she knows what he’s like and that I should take no shit from him.
I hear the door open behind me as I finish up drying my hands and turn back to the mirror for a quick check on my makeup, but the person who has just entered catches my attention from the corner of my eye as I see them reach for the lock on the door and turn it. I slowly turn my head to look at them, and it’s not a woman, it’s a guy with a fucking snarl on his face... and I’m the only other person in these toilets.
Oh shit.
He looks like a mean fucker. He’s about my height, has an athletic build, a bald head, a short beard, and a scar running down the side of his face. His nose looks like it’s been broken a few times too. He’s clearly no stranger to conflict, and I guess I just became his latest target for whatever fucking reason, I have no idea.
“Uh, you know that this is the ladies’, right?” I say, unable to help the sarcasm that drips from my voice. If this asshole is here to try and scare me, then he’s going to be disappointed. I live with the biggest monster to walk this earth, so this guy is going to like a pussycat compared to that.
The guy smirks and then charges for me, backing me up to the wall behind me, smashing me against it as his hand comes to my throat and grips tight.
Fucking hell, not even a minute to prepare myself.
“What are you doing?” I manage to choke out as he squeezes his fingers a little more, making it harder to take my next breath.
“Just passing on a little message,” he sneers, and his rancid breath hits my nose, making me grimace.
I refuse to act pathetic and try to plead to this guy’s good side, because I doubt there is one, so I do the only thing I am able to do whilst he’s pinning me to the fucking wall. I lift my arms up and quickly jab both of my thumbs in his eyes, making him yell out and momentarily let go of me.
“You fucking bitch,” he shouts, but I don’t waste any time as I quickly move around him and run for the door. I am inches away, and as I reach out to grab the door lock, I’m tugged back by my hair. I cry out in pain as it feels like my hair is being ripped from my scalp.
“Get the hell off of me,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but the panic that I tried to tamp down just seconds ago is rearing its head.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’m slammed back against the wall as if the last few seconds never happened. He slaps me across the face, hard, and then his hand is back around my throat, his other hand gripping my hip.
“Oh, the fun I could have with you,” he comments as I try to struggle against him but find myself at a loss as he pushes his chest to mine. I don’t even feel the pain in my face because adrenaline is sweeping through me, blocking out the sting. “Hopefully the boss will let me, once I have delivered you to him because I would love nothing more than to fuck Nate Knowles’ woman.”
Ugh. My skin crawls, and I know if this guy manages to get me out of here then I won’t survive. He’ll use me for what he wants and then kill my ass. I can see it in his eyes. He’s a stone-cold murderer.
“Are you not the boss?” I choke out, trying to buy myself a few minutes to somehow get out of here.
“I will be the fucking boss when my dick is buried inside of you,” he replies, and I shudder.
I don’t beg for him to let me go because I know he won’t, and as he crushes my throat more, I know that I am at very real risk here of blacking out.
Come on, Kat, think.
I try to calm myself in order to think about my next step, and as the guy starts to lift me off the floor, my tiptoes barely touching it, I have a brainwave.
My bag.
Front pocket.
Metal nail file.
Stupid fuck hasn’t thought to disable the use of my hands.
I feel woozy, light-headed, but I move my left hand and open the front zip, pushing my fingers inside and feeling for the nail file. It touches the tip of my finger and I grip it, moving it into my hand so I’m ready to strike. The guy doesn’t even notice as he’s too busy licking the side of my face, and I take my opportunity.
I bring my hand out of the bag, and with one quick movement, I sink the nail file into the side of his neck, pushing it in as far as it will go. His tongue moves away from my face, his hands falling from me as he stumbles back and lifts one hand to his neck. The blood is already running down his neck, and his eyes are wide with shock.
