He ignores me and drags me down a dark, dingy corridor that smells of dampness and stale smoke.
A young blonde walks past us. She’s barely eighteen, too young for this place. He stops suddenly and shoves me against the wall. My shoulder hits the bricks, and I wince.
Then he grabs the girl’s arm and leans in, whispering in her ear. She laughs, but it’s fake. Her eyes lift and meet mine. They’re glassy, full of unshed tears. Pain flickers across her face before she bites down on the inside of her lip, swallowing whatever she wants to say.
“Yes, Axe,” she croaks.
I scan the corridor. If I’m going to run, it has to be now.
The girl gives the smallest shake of her head, like she can hear the thought forming.
I edge back anyway. One step. Then another.
He’s too busy kissing along her neck to notice.
Her eyes lock onto mine, wide, pleading.
Don’t.
But I turn and bolt.
His boots thunder behind me. I don’t make it three strides before pain explodes across my scalp as he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me backwards.
“I don’t fucking think so,” he bellows, his voice bouncing off the walls.
“You bastard,” I scream. “Get the fuck off me!”
He drags me down the corridor and throws me back into the room.
The blonde stands in the doorway now, her face blank, like she’s learned how to switch it off.
He shoves me into the chair and reties my ankles tight enough to bite. I shake my head, trying to clear the hair from my eyes.
As he turns back to her, she forces a smile, but it never reaches her eyes. He props one hand on the doorframe, boxing her in.
“Hey,” I call out. “Axe, is it?”
He sighs, turning his head slowly. “What now?”
“I told you, I need a piss.”
“No fucking chance after that little stunt.”
He turns back to the girl, dragging his mouth up her neck. She stiffens under his touch, and I feel something hot and furious coil in my stomach.
“You men are all pieces of shit, aren’t you?” I spit.
He groans. “Will you shut the fuck up?”
“Rude,” I snap back.
His hand slides up her stomach. She’s barely dressed in a bra and short black skirt. Her fingers clamp around the doorframe, her knuckles white. He grips her roughly, making her flinch. She closes her eyes, like she’s already accepted what’s about to come.
I scrape the chair loudly across the floor, rocking it hard like I’m about to break free.
His head snaps towards me.
A second later, he’s in front of me.
