She tries to play it off at first, saying she drank too much the night prior, or she just needs to hydrate better, but after three waters and two Tylenol, she is looking worse by the minute. “Brittany, I think you should go home and rest, you look sick. It must be going around; remember I was out just over a week ago?”
At this point, she doesn’t have much fight left in her and agrees to leave early.
I just have to make it through two more hours, until closing. I can practically do this with my eyes closed. Also… I am not entirely alone; the bar’s silent lackey lingers nearby.
Tonight, wasn’t yielding many tips with so few visitors, but it made an effortless shift. A pair of women who ordered two dry martinis left a few minutes ago. With no one currently in the bar, I take the opportunity to carry some dirty glasses to the dishwasher in the back.
There’s a light in the backroom that indicates when any of the outer doors are open in the bar. When I see the red-light flash, I emerge seconds later to greet the customer and let them know it was ten minutes till the last call.
My hold tightens on the edge of the swinging door, now faced with the unbalanced man in the cobalt coat.
“There you are!” He stammers. “I’ve been looking for you.” I look to the table where Dax once occupied, but he’s not there! Where is he?
“Stay away from me!” I bellow, slowly inching toward the bar where I know there is an alert button for these types of situations. In all the time I’ve worked here, we fortunately have never used it. I had to believe it would work if pressed.
The vagrant drunk must have sensed what I was up to, because he was in front of me faster than I was able to get fully behind the bar.
Where the fuck was Dax?! Is he in the bathroom? Just outside? My head pounds in time with my heartbeat… so hurried it’s painful. No one else is here, but me and this deranged guy.
I grab a handled corkscrew within reach and wave it toward him. “Get back!”
All I smell is booze weeping from this man's pores, as he steps closer to me without an ounce of fear. Within a split second, he is near enough to have the tool pressing against his blue covered torso. He knew I wouldn’t do it… predators like him can sniff out women, who don’t have the nerve to drive a weapon into their assailant. I wish I was stronger. To protect myself.
Putting up both hands, I begin to push. Trying anything to get away from this maniac. “Help!” I wail, just as two blue arms wrap around me.
The bottle opener falls to the floor. Of course, he’s bigger than me, managing to swipe my feet out from under me and I go down hard. White hot pain pulses within my vision as my head hits the floor first. My vision blurs at its edges, and he’s on top of me within an instant.
He smells me, breathing heavily over my face. His hot and putrid mouth opens as he initiates licking down the side of my face. I fight, shove with all my strength, I even scream despite my head feeling like it's split open… but he has me pinned. He’s too strong!
The pig of a man smiles above me with yellowed teeth, as he straddles my body. He begins to fumble with the zipper on my jumpsuit, grasping at me with his dirty hands. Squeezing roughly at my chest. Then the zipper slowly starts to move downward.
A choked, desperate cry works its way up my throat. “Please! Please don’t do this!”
His nose wrinkles, while his crazed grin nauseates me. I brace for this man’s vile hands to touch my skin… to knead my exposed breasts, but he does something even worse. Painfully my hearing aids are yanked off my ears and thrown out of reach. I watch in silent horror as the man’s mouth begins to move. I can read lips. Understanding fully when he says, “I’m going to fuck your deaf cunt.”
My sobs are soundless, but the ringing in my ears grows increasingly louder, as if leading up to an ear-splitting crescendo. I am powerless, struggling for breath from the weight of this man’s body. If I pass out, it’s all over. Breathe, Cindel! Keep fighting!
The tears make it impossible to see straight, but… we’re not the only ones here anymore. A dark figure stands behind him. One second the disgusting man is looking down at me, and the next his face is turned in an unnatural direction. The weight of his body is pulled from me.
Blinking back tears, frozen to the floor, until… I’m lifted into the air. I cling to whoever my savior is, gradually I’m lowered. I’m in a chair a moment later, with a stack of napkins set before me on the table. Patting my eyes, I try desperately to slow my racing heart. Deep breath in… steadily letting it out, just like I’ve learned in therapy.
Before me, on his knees, is him. Dax is my savior. Unmoving from the shock, he gingerly takes the zipper from below my belly button and carefully pulls it up to cover me. I regard him voicelessly.
Although he’s wide-eyed, his features are soft. The pinkish raised scar etched across his neck is such a striking contrast to his pale features. He signs effortlessly,Are you hurt?Dilated pupils, tense jaw, and chest moving with heavy breaths, he waits for my response.
I shake my head from side to side, but I'm still unable to use my words.
Remaining on his knees, unmoving, and patient he signs again…I’m sorry.I should have never left your side.
I chew on my bottom lip and nod in understanding, because that’s all I seem to be able to do right now. Move my head. I glance over to my attacker in blue, whose body lies contorted, unmoving… lifeless. I stare back at Dax and now he’s the one nodding. Confirming what I already suspect. The man’s dead. Dax did that. Staring at my rescuer, he stands and proceeds to the front door of the bar, locking it from the inside then flipping off the neon,opensign.
The reality of the situation is sinking in. I feel like I’m going to be sick. Finally, my body remembers how to function, I run to the bathroom and make it just in time to empty my street hotdog from hours prior, into the toilet. I’ll never be able to stomach one again. After splashing some water on my face, I emerge from the bathroom to find Dax leaning against the bar counter, spinning keys on his finger, with nobodyin sight. I find my hearing aids placed together on the counter for me. It takes me a few moments longer than usual to place both devices back on my ears, because my hands are still trembling.
“Where is he?” I whisper. I can now hear the jingle of the keys as he continues spinning them, not answering the question. Suddenly, he pushes from the counter and tilts his head as if telling me to follow him. “No way! Not until you tell me where he went!” I cross my arms, feeling fed up with men telling me how it’s going to be. I want answers.
He makes a pouty face. His features almost appear boyish, when he isn’t moody. Medium length, honey brown hair that he’s constantly pushing out of his face. Sharp jawline, prominent brow, and wide full lips, that rarely split to speak. Unexpectedly, he reveals a devilishly handsome smile.
If I was in high school and I found his face in one of my teen magazines, perhaps advertising some ridiculously expensive cologne, you better believe I would be tacking him up on my wall. Ghastly scar or not, this man gave Casper’s real boy form, a run for his money. Man-age though, no ghost boys. Get your mind out of the gutter!
