by M. S. Parker
“I'm sorry, Jenna.” He sighed. “I didn't realize how badly Matthew St. Clair wanted to take down the guys Christophe had information on. I trusted the bastard to do the right thing.”
“And I trusted you.” I looked at the file I'd spent the weekend putting together. “She's going to get away with it again, you know.”
“The marshals told me that they were putting Christophe under more strict supervision than their usual witnesses,” Agent Matthews said suddenly. He ran his hand over his face. “I'm sorry I talked you into letting us take over the case. If we'd stayed out of it, Christophe probably wouldn't even be out on bail and he'd be serving the max for all of his crimes. Instead, he basically gets a walk on everything.”
I had no doubt that Agent Matthews was right. Rylan had made it clear to the local authorities that he'd wanted Christophe prosecuted with everything they could find. He would've pushed until he was sure we were safe; I was safe. He'd understood why I'd agreed, and hadn't pushed it, but now I wished he had. I wished I would've thought it through more, maybe gotten some things in writing.
It was too late now though. I pushed back the regrets. Dwelling on it wouldn't do anyone any good. Besides, I thought grimly, Christophe would slip up. Pedophiles always did. I just hoped it was something small and no one else got hurt because of it. As for my mother...
“I'll do my best to see that your mother's prosecuted for real this time,” Agent Matthews said. “I'll even take in your grand jury testimony against Christophe.”
“How's that going to help?” I asked. I'd felt so good about the case I'd put together and now I was seeing it fall apart.
“You're consistent,” he said. “Showing the prosecutor that your original grand jury testimony against your mother matches what you said about her recently should convince him that her statements about you being confused were lies.”
“Will that even make a difference?” I asked.
My previous feeling of helplessness was returning. What good was doing all this work if it was just going to be used to flip people? I knew they were trying to cut the head off of the snake, but in trying to get to the top, they were letting go all of the little people, and those would be the ones to step in and fill the void once arrests were finally made. Like that mythological creature, the hydra, where multiple heads would grow back when one was cut off. It was a never-ending, never winning, battle.
“I don't know if it will or not,” Agent Matthews admitted. “But it's the best we can do.”
I nodded and stood up. “Thank you.”
I walked out before he could say anything else. The best he could do. The worst part was, I knew he was telling the truth. The prosecutor would look at the evidence I'd gathered and, to make his case stronger, would choose who he saw as the weakest link, the least offensive one, and that would be who got a deal. And I knew who would look that way. It wouldn't matter that she'd been arrested before, or that she was violating her WITSEC agreement. He would see what she wanted him to see. A poor woman, an addict who was exploited by perverts into giving them what they wanted. She'd use her previous arrest as proof that she was susceptible to such manipulation and intimidation. She'd cry and swear that she never wanted to hurt anyone.
And the moron would most likely buy her story and cut another deal.
I blinked against the bright sunlight as I stepped outside. It was still morning and I had work to do, but tonight, I was going out. Not to the gym or anything like that. I was heading to a club to dance and drink and flirt. I didn't think I was ready to hook up yet, not after the last disastrous attempt, but I could have a bit of fun anyway. And, right now, I could seriously use a bit of fun.
Chapter 18
I left off the eyebrow and belly button piercings. I hadn't been wearing them much anyway. I kept the make-up light as well. A little heavier than what I wore to meet Agent Matthews, but not even close to what I'd worn before. I wasn't going back to the way I had been, but I wasn't going to go the total opposite either. I'd pick a place about halfway in-between, I decided. The clothes were still fitted to show off my body, but I went for comfortable but stylish shoes rather than heeled boots. When I looked in the mirror this time, I felt pretty good. Not great and not like I was completely back to myself, but I was getting there, and that was progress.
I didn't go back to the club I'd tried the last time. I wasn't looking for a random hook-up and I didn't want to risk running into Chad. I doubted he'd be feeling too friendly towards me and a confrontation was the last thing I needed at the moment. I just wanted to forget, but not to lose myself in a man. There wouldn't be another man in my life anytime soon.
I smiled as I walked into the club. I'd always liked this club better. The music was loud, but more than just a beat. The lights were flashing, but more hypnotically than the nearly overwhelming pulsing of the previous club. I made my way over to the bar. I didn't want to get drunk, but something to take the edge off would be nice.
The bartender gave me a once-over as he poured my drink and I could see the appreciation in his eyes. Surprisingly, he didn't hit on me, though I suspected that was more because it was too early in his shift to try to find someone to go home with. Too bad. He was cute and I might've enjoyed a bit of flirting. I didn't want to get him in trouble with his boss, so I left him alone and surveyed the crowd as I sipped my drink.
The place wasn't nearly as crowded tonight as it would be on the weekend, which was another reason I'd wanted to come out on a Monday night. I'd always preferred slower nights. Enough men to choose from, but I didn't have to risk a panic attack from too many people.
“Can I ask you to dance?” A man's voice came from my right.
I half-turned towards him. He was tall and lean with dark hair and eyes, skin the color of creamed coffee. He had the kind of long eyelashes that girls would envy. All in all, a quite beautiful man. He still couldn't hold a candle to Rylan, but I thought he might be a good distraction.
“I might be up for a dance or two,” I said. I took his hand and let him lead me onto the dance floor.
His hand stayed in mine as we began to dance, but he kept a respectful distance between our bodies. I smiled at him, letting myself relax and move with the music. Halfway through the song, he leaned down to speak in my ear.
“I have a confession to make.”
I looked up at him, wondering if I should yank my hand away from his or if I should wait. The conversation could be something innocent, like some sort of clichéd pick-up line about how beautiful he thought I was or how much he wanted me in bed.
“I'm gay.”
I blinked, startled by the admission. Not exactly what I'd been thinking.
He grinned. “You looked like you wanted to have fun, but not like you were looking for a hook-up. I wanted to dance, but I didn't want to give the wrong impression.” He gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry I wasn't upfront with you.”
“Not a problem.” I was actually relieved. Hot guy to dance with, but absolutely no chance of there being a sexual misunderstanding.
“So we're good?” He raised an eyebrow and looked around. “I'm sure there are plenty of men who'd love to be in my place.”
“I'm having fun,” I said truthfully. “Are you?”
He reached out and put his hands on my waist. “I am.”
I liked the way his body moved with mine. If I'd been looking for a sexual partner, I might've been disappointed that this guy was off the table, but as it was, I was enjoying myself. I wasn't going to second-guess myself.
I turned, letting him pull me back against him. My ass fit firmly against him, confirming his sexuality as our grinding bodies provided very little physical response, and what he was having was easily explained by friction. I didn't know of any man who'd be able to keep himself from getting an erection dancing this way with a woman, and, not to sound arrogant, especially me.
“You're a really good dancer,” he said, his breath hot against my neck.
“Thank you,�
�� I said. “Right back at you.”
We danced through another half dozen songs before I had to cry off and head for the bar again. I was thirsty, this time for water. He smiled at me and moved on to another partner. I smiled back and watched him go.
I leaned back against the bar and drained a bottle of water. It wasn't until I finished it that I realized I was smiling. Actually smiling, and not just in response to someone else doing it. It took me a moment to place my current emotion and when I did, I was surprised. I felt good. Not great. Not whole or happy or even content, but good, and that was enough for now.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I immediately stiffened. Someone was watching me.
I looked around, trying to be discreet about it. Anyone looking would've thought I was simply scanning the crowd, looking for someone new to dance with. The thing was, I couldn't see anyone giving me more than a glance, either filled with admiration or jealousy. Still, I felt uneasy, like there were eyes in the shadows.
I shook it off, reminding myself that it was a natural reaction to have after finding out that the man who'd tried to assault me was essentially going to walk free. I was surprised I hadn't felt it before.
I tried to shake the feeling, searching the crowd, trying to find someone else to dance with. Someone else to take my mind off of things. I could still end the night feeling good for once.
And then it all went to hell because I saw him.
For a brief moment, I thought I was mistaken, that the play of light and shadows had made me see things, but I'd been right. Those broad shoulders and that narrow waist. Dark hair. I couldn't see the color of his eyes from where I was standing, but I knew them. Knew what they would look like when they were lit up with happiness, dancing with laughter. I knew what they would look like blazing with passion, dark with anger. I knew him and it hurt.
I wanted to turn away before he saw me, but I'd lingered too long and I watched his expression change. First, surprise and recognition, then hurt. His eyes flicked to my left and right, and I knew he was trying to determine if I was here alone. When his gaze returned to me, I saw the determination that meant he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted. Not for the first time, I felt that focus on me, only this time, I didn't want it.
He began to walk towards me, never taking his eyes off of me. I'd been hunted before, knew what it was like to feel the difference between predator and prey. This was different. I'd never felt like I was torn between wanting to be caught and wanting to run away. I wanted to feel him wrap his arms around me, pull me tight against his chest so that I could hear his heart beating, that slow, steady thumping that was my anchor.
What if that wasn't why he was coming over, though? What if that look of sheer stubbornness was because he felt like he needed to tell me himself that it was over and he'd moved on? The kind of man he was, I could see him feeling as if that was something he needed to do.
I was dealing, but I could feel how fragile the walls were that I'd put back up. Strangers couldn't get through them. Zeke and Suzette could crack them. One word from Rylan, however, and my defenses would crumble. It wouldn't matter what he wanted to say. A kind word or a cruel one would be equally dangerous.
Still, I couldn't move. The bar was at my back, but it was more Rylan's gaze that held me in place than any sort of physical trap. My heart was in my throat, blood rushing in my ears so that I almost couldn't hear the music. I couldn't see anyone but him. Everyone else was faceless, nameless, and he was the only thing that was real. I could feel my body reaching for his. Not in the physical sense, but something deeper, something I couldn't explain.
Movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention, and a beautiful blonde stepped between Rylan and me. Her dress was white, glowing under the lights. It barely covered her ass and the glimpse I got of the front revealed cleavage that was far too ample for her slender frame to be real. She tossed back her hair and went straight for Rylan. I didn't have to see her face to know her intentions.
As she reached him, Rylan's eyes moved from me to her and I found that I could move again. Still, I stood and waited, wanting to see what he would do. His face was impossible to read, but when she pressed her body against his, he didn't step back and that was enough for me.
The dark-haired man next to me at the bar had been checking me out since I'd first come over and he smiled as I turned to him. I jerked my head towards the dance floor and the smile widened.
I took his hand and pulled him after me, intentionally taking a path that would let us pass near enough to Rylan and his blonde that he couldn't help but see us. I didn't look at him though. I wanted him to think that I didn't care. He could flirt with whoever he wanted to. I could too.
As we reached an open spot, I turned around, wrapping my arms around the man's neck. His hands came down on my hips as I began to move. I could feel eyes on me and hoped that at least one pair belonged to Rylan. The ache in my chest had a vindictive little streak and I was feeding it. He should have stayed away. Instead, he was flaunting his freedom. Intentional or not, I wanted him to know that I'd moved on as much as he had.
My partner was definitely enjoying my decision. His cock was hard against my hip as he pulled me closer. I let him do it, molding my body against his. I was starting to reconsider the whole 'no sex tonight' intent with which I'd started off the evening. He was cute and it would serve Rylan right to watch me walk out with this guy, knowing exactly what we were going to do.
Even as I imagined what Rylan's face would look like, a wave of guilt washed over me. Guilt for wanting to hurt Rylan even though I’d wanted him to move on. That’s what I wanted. A wave of guilt washed over me as I thought about how I was using the man I was dancing with to get back at someone who didn't deserve it. He might've been the kind of guy who didn't really care if I was using him or not, but I did. Hooking up with a guy for the sole purpose of physical satisfaction was one thing. Doing it to hurt someone else was another. I wasn't that kind of person. At least, I didn't want to be.
I gave my dance partner a smile and gestured towards the bathrooms. He smiled and nodded, not missing a beat as he released me. I was pretty sure he thought I was coming back, but he wouldn't miss me long. There were at least a dozen other women who'd gladly take my place. I wasn't going to worry about that though. My goal at the moment was to get out of here without having to explain myself to that guy or see Rylan again. There had to be a back door somewhere.
Chapter 19
I'd come here often enough to know that the hallway where the bathrooms were located didn't come to a dead end but rather a T. I'd never bothered to venture past the ladies' room, but I'd heard plenty of people talking about what went on in that corridor. I may have been into what some people would consider kinky sex, but I'd never been an exhibitionist...not by choice anyway. I had no problem going back to a college dorm where there was always a possibility of a roommate accidentally coming in, but I wasn't about to fuck someone in a hallway. If some people got their kicks doing it though, who was I to judge?
Tonight, however, I was going to head down to that hallway and find out if there was an exit on either end. It would most likely be an emergency exit and would probably sound an alarm, but on the off chance that I could use it, I was going to try. As much as I'd enjoyed the beginning of the night, I didn't want to go out there again. Not if it meant I'd possibly run into my recent dance partner or, worse, Rylan and his...friend.
The hallway was dark, shadowed, but I could make out figures, bodies moving together and for a moment, I was in the past again.
I didn't know who the other girl was. The man had brought her with him. Mom had told him he wouldn't get a discount just because he wasn't using me the whole time. That was fine, he'd said. He wanted me to watch first; watch so I'd know what he was going to do to me.
The girl was a bit older than me, maybe twelve or so, and it was clear she'd been with this man for a long time. He might've even been her father. There wasn't m
uch of a resemblance, but I knew that didn't mean much of anything.
He made her undress and I could see the bruises on her pale skin. She was thin, her hair limp and straggly. If she was his daughter, he most likely wasn't sending her to school. Someone would've noticed something.
I didn't want to watch when he started touching her, but the first time I looked away, I saw my mother raise her hand in warning. I looked back, but tried not to see. I tried to find that place inside me where I went most of the time I was being hurt, but I couldn't get there, dragged back by the sounds the girl was making. She wasn't loud, and I thought that was most likely the problem. He seemed almost annoyed that she wasn't crying or screaming, merely grunting and groaning, almost involuntary noises. That, I thought, was why he wanted me. He thought what he was doing to her would hurt me because I was someone new. I wondered what lie my mother had told him since I'd been treated to far worse than what the girl was receiving.
I shook my head as the flashback faded. My palms were sweating, but I'd at least managed to stay on my feet and not attract any attention. I hadn't thought of that girl in years. By the time I'd gotten out, I'd forgotten all about her. Had she been rescued too? Or had she succumbed to the same fate so many others like us had and died?
I pushed thoughts of the girl aside. I could revisit her fate later. Right now, I needed to get out. There were other memories waiting to come forward. I could feel them at the back of my brain, pushing, trying to make themselves known.
I started to turn away from the two couples to my right when another flashback hit me.
I sat in the corner, knees pulled to my chest. I'd been wearing my Snow White dress for a week and it was stained and filthy. I hadn't eaten anything in a while and my stomach hurt. I was only six, but that wasn't anything new to me. Neither was the pain in other parts of my body. It was summer and that meant more movies. We'd made four this week and I'd lost count of how many men had hurt me.