I rip it out.
Warm, metallic blood floods my mouth a second before excruciating pain registers with Jake.
“Fuck!” he roars, jumping back. His phone lands on the floor. “Fucking whore!” He balls his hand into a fist, landing a powerful blast on the side of my face. “You filthy bitch!”
I’m dizzy... my head spins... I feel stupefied when Jake jerks away, holding his cock sputtering blood in crimson ejaculation.
I spit his piercing out, shaking like a newborn puppy sniffing for food. In most other high-stress situations, I’d be puking my guts out by now, but nausea doesn’t register yet. Survival instinct sharpens my senses, clears my head, and spurs me on.
Michael pales, still manning the door, his resolve wearing thin. A blizzard of uncertainty twists his face as he watches Jake. Two heartbeats later, he bails, scrambling out so fast he almost trips over his legs.
Jessie still holds my hands, but he’s back on his feet, muttering Jake’s name. Blood squirts onto my face, neck, and dress as if it’s being sprayed from a water gun.
I don’t take a second to consider my position. I act, converting adrenaline into courage as I dip forward, then wing myself back, ramming the back of my head into Jessie’s groin.
It hurtsme,soI can only imagine how much pain I caused him. He lets go of my wrists, hissing profanities under his breath while Jake’s still two feet away, crying real tears. He drops to his knees, frantically trying to stop the bleeding, teeth clattering from pain, shock, or both.
I jump to my weak legs, wobbling on stiletto heels. I need a weapon. I’m too small to cause much damage with my fists, so I need something to hit with. I’m not thinking clearly, not weighing the consequences when I burst into the first cubicle and grip the ceramic water tank cover on the toilet.
I tear it off, stumbling back a step, then spin around, raising it over my shoulder like a baseball bat. It’s heavy. Under normal circumstances, I’d lack the strength to lift it with such ease, but nothing’s impossible when you’re cranked up on adrenaline.
“You’re fucking insane, bitch!” Jessie roars, jostling to his feet, arms outstretched like he wants to catch me.
He won’t touch me.
I won’t let either of them touch me.
I swing on my heel, the heavy cover almost tipping me over. I use the momentum to my advantage, ramming Jessie across the side of his head, my muscles stinging with the effort.
The cover shatters against his head, and Jessie’s unconscious body folds to the blood-stained tiles. His head thuds on the floor as the restroom door swings open, hitting the wall with a bang.
Johnny fills the height of the frame, his face glowing red. “What the—” He pauses, taking a quick look around, his complexion blanching. “Shit... fuck!” He walks in slowly, hands up like he wants to show me he has no bad intentions, but I stumble back, twisting my ankle, and barely manage to keep my balance. “Easy, there, it’s okay,” he mutters softly. “It’s okay, Mia, you’re okay. I won’t—” He cuts himself off again and stops mid-step, the white of his cheeks turning ashen.
I’m not sure why.
All I know is I’m backing away from him. Everything blends together. Sounds distort. The music fades, masked by the thunderous pulse drumming in my ears...
The rage seizing every cell in my body disintegrates, leaving me defenseless.
Nausea wrings my stomach when I follow Johnny’s line of sight.That’swhy he stopped talking. Jake’s piercing glistens on the floor with bits of flesh attached. I thought I only ripped the piercing, but Jake’s missing a mouthful of dick.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirrors above the sinks and take an involuntary step back. Blood mixes with tears on my face, neck, and dress, the sight like a still from a cheap horror movie.
Jake’s still crying, ripping his t-shirt off, probably trying to stop the bleeding, unaware of what’s happening around him. I don’t think he even noticed Johnny arrive.
My legs give in.
I collapse to my knees, adrenaline long gone, body limp, cold, and exhausted. I crawl into the cubicle, shaking all over when I grip the toilet with both hands and finally throw up.
“Fuck!” Johnny booms. “Mia! Mia... shit! Hold on, I need to...” His voice trails off when everything I ate today comes back.
“Nico...” I rasp, coughing, gagging, and gasping for air. Cold sweat coats my back, inducing a shivering fit. I grip the toilet harder, holding on for dear life as I beg, “...please get Nico.”
THIRTY-ONE
Nico
MY PHONE RINGS IN MY POCKET as Theo sets another round of beers on the table. I pull it out, my hands growing clammy whenJohnny Qflashes on the screen.
