“Quit your bitching, girl. Your ass made me watch four fucking hours of Julia Freaking Roberts. Thought I was going to go into barf mode on that last one. I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, blah, blah, blah,” I respond and it’s not really a lie. I hate that damn movie. It makes you want to believe in fairytales.
“Shhh…” the lady behind us says, and it’s only because I’m drunk and took a second happy pill on top of that shit, that I’m able to not slap the shit out of her. She should consider herself lucky.
The nightmares have been so bad lately, I don’t think I’ve managed an hour’s sleep. Last night I woke up after dreaming about the last time Michael beat me and I swore he was standing over me, swinging Ms. Marten’s head back and forth like a pendulum. I can’t believe I moved closer to Michael. I should be in Mexico or something. The problem is, that’s not where Nic is, that’s not where Ray is and I’m terrified of being on my own. I’m still weak.
Nic thinks I have this hard shell around me. She thinks I’m a party girl, going to strip joints and getting laid every night. What would she say if she knew the truth? I go to the strip joints to watch the dancers. I need to be good at my job, learn the dances because if I go on the run, completely on my own, I will need to get a job quickly, that pays in cash and has great tips.
I don’t get laid every night. I haven’t had sex since Michael. I don’t even want sex. I’m afraid I may never want it again. I bullshit my way around men and then find some way to bow out. It’s worked so far, but it pisses me off. The whole world around me is having sex. I’m young damn it, even if I do feel like I’m eighty. I should be having sex. I picture Crusher immediately. Shit.
I take another drink of water. I wonder if Nicole knows I laced it with vodka after we left the concession area. Good thing she’s driving.
“Amante’ Nicole, is that you?”
I look over to see yet another, sexy-off-his-ass man looking at Nicole like he wants to eat her alive. Hell, if I still had an ego, this town would crush it.
“Well fuck me Nic, did you start a freaking harem when we moved?” I ask, when it doesn’t appear the latest Nicole victim is going to move along. Great.
“No, just finding I’m in the wrong place, at the wrong time, way too much since we moved,” Nicole answers, and boy could I give her a high-five on that one.
“Do you people mind? We’re trying to watch a movie here.” Ms. Huffy-phone-woman demands.
“Mamacita, does Dragon know you are in my town?” The man asks Nicole.
I tilt my head to the side to watch him for a minute.
“Your town? Odd, you don’t look like a mayor.”
He looks over at me and flashes a smile. It does nothing for me, but he is pretty.
“Yes well, appearances can be deceiving. Can they not, querida?” he asks. I start to respond, interested. Does he and the people with him have this much power? Could they protect me from Michael? If I’m right and Dragon and Crusher are just as dangerous, could they protect me and Nic? He’s speaking Spanish…could he help me make it to Mexico? I could pay him…I have the money from Michael that I’ve barely touched…
“You want to go?” Nicole asks, grabbing my attention again. I don’t really want to…but hell, I could use another water. Actually it is more vodka than water. Whatever.
“Yeah, sure.”
Before we can leave, the guy fixes it so Nicole can’t get out. I look away, still wondering how to get in with his club. If they could offer Nic and I safety, or better yet, if they could help us get away…Nic doesn’t understand. She hasn’t dealt with men like Michael or Dragon. I have. I need to look out for her.
“Excuse me, I was going to the restroom,” I hear Nicole respond.
“No you weren’t, querida. You were ditching me, but I am not ready to let you escape.”
“Dear Lord Nic, can’t you find any normal men?” I interject, my eyes glued on the movie scree, but in my mind I am making plans.
“Apparently not,” she sighs.
“Skull baby, I thought you and I had a date? The woman who came in with, apparently Skull, whines.
Skull? That sounds mean. Mean enough to kill the Devil? Maybe not, but he seems to have firepower with him. Hell, there’s at least ten with him now. Some giant of a man picks a woman up, lifting her over the top of the seat and into the next aisle. He repeats the action until he clears a whole row for his buddies. I laugh out loud as women go running out of the theater.
I throw popcorn at the man in question. He’s big and apparently doesn’t talk much, but I do notice how careful he was with each woman as he moved them. I may be drunk, but I take this as a good sign.
“What’s your name, big boy?” I ask as the popcorn bounces off his head.
“Why you asking?” He asks and his voice is hoarse like he doesn’t use it much.
“I want to know whose name I’m calling out tonight,” I say only half joking. Maybe if I have sex it will loosen Michael’s hold on me?