“No?”
“No. I’m not playing. I won’t let you leave until you tell me what the problem is. You would do exactly the same if it were me, right?”
She shrugs her shoulders then drops them dejectedly.
“Right. So…What happened? It’s obviously something that happened at work. Did you get fired for throwing the drink over your customer?”
“No … Well, not exactly for that.”
“What, so you did get fired?”
“Yes,” she squeaks through a sob that catches in her throat. Tears spring from her eyes and she can’t stop them. This is not my fierce, strong friend. I could count the number of times I’ve seen Lottie cry on one hand.
I pull her into me, wrapping my arms tightly around her hunched shoulders and cradling her head into my shoulder.
“Are you upset about getting fired or is there something you’re not telling me?”
“I can’t tell you…”
I push her shoulders away and push up her chin with my index finger.
“Lottie. You are my best friend. You can tell me anything…and everything.” I feel like a hypocrite saying this to her as I should have told her about Jonny and everything that was happening at the time, but I couldn’t bring myself to voice it aloud. At the time, I didn’t know if it would have helped or made things worse, and I was in so deep that I couldn’t see a way out so it seemed best that she knew as little as possible. She would have felt so helpless, just like I do now, knowing there’s something hurting my best friend and she doesn’t know how to tell me.
“Please tell me, Lotts…” I whisper.
“I can’t. Spike will go mental. It’s stupid anyway…”
“Well, maybe just tell me first then we can work out what to do, together.”
She sucks in a huge breath, trying to compose herself and steady her uneven breaths.
“My boss was pissed that I ruined the customer’s nice pants and caused a scene. He hauled me into his office and sat me in the hard plastic chair, in front of his fucking ridiculously huge hardwood desk strewn with paperwork that’s supposed to make him look busy. I mean he’s a restaurant manager, not a CEO, Asshole.”
I raise my brows pointedly at her, knowing she’s veering off track in the conversation to avoid getting to the part that’s getting to her the most.
“So, he just basically tore a strip off me. Which I suppose, I was half expecting. I know I shouldn’t have done it. I was expecting my knuckles to be rapped. Then he said I had two choices. He’d pay me what I was owed and I could walk, or…” She swallows hard.
“Or what?”
“Or he’d let me keep my job if…” she looks up at me through helpless eyes. Tears still clinging to her lashes. “If I slept with him.”
“He WHAT?” I yell. “Did he touch you?
Lottie doesn’t answer straight away, so I push further, “Lottie. Did he touch you? Tell me what that fucker did? I swear, I’ll take a rusty fucking knife to his balls…”
“He just …”
“He what, Lottie?” I say impatiently. I can feel my temper rising and the tone of my voice matches it. I’ve not ever seen my best friend like this and I don’t like it one bit. I want my strong, determined Lottie back.
“He cornered me. He tried to kiss me and when I refused he grabbed me.” Lottie starts to cry again and my blood boils at the situation she was in. I know the feeling of not being able to escape. I know it all too well, and I know that Lottie only experienced a fraction of it but it’s no less scary, and she should never have had to feel that kind of fear from a man.
“Where did he grab you? Did he touch you innapropriately?” I hear the frantic tone in my voice and realize it’s not helping Lottie calm down. So, I take a deep breath and take her hand to lead her into the bedroom. I sit us on the edge of the bed and turn my body toward her.
“Lottie? Babe, you need to get it all out and tell me what happened.” I say softly. “I know it hurts right now, but we will sort it out and make it better for you. I promise.” I wait patiently for her answer and hold her hand tightly.
She steadies her breathing and then starts to talk. “I tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t having any of it. When I tried to leave, he backed me into the corner and pinned me with his body. He started to get all feely, then he was rough. I didn’t know what to do, so I kneed him in the bollocks. I’ve never done that before and after seeing you do it in the club, it was the first thing thatcame to me.” She smiles a little half smile, and I smile back knowing I might have helped in some way.
“I guess he thought I would just open my legs and beg for my job back. He called me all sorts of names. Nothing I haven’t been called before, but he said them with such venom. No one has ever treated me that way before…like I was…he made me feel like a whore.”
