He waved me away. “That’s okay, you’re clear.”
I smiled and thanked them, making my way over to the large bar by the dance floor. It was still a bit early so there was a stool available at the end. Besides, it looked like most of the people there were in groups, filling up booths or yelling “Fist fuck!” out on the dance floor. I ordered a rum and coke from the bartender and watched everyone, the sweaty moves, the flying hair, the lust for each other, for Mexico. I was being speared by small bouts of jealousy, that these people could be having fun and finding love and living life and I was about to offer myself, a lamb to the biggest baddest wolf of all.
I stared down at my drink, lost in my thoughts, in my shame. I was only interrupted to be hit on by a few Mexican guys, the “porte?os” that Javier “warned” me about. They were local but harmless, not drug lords, just young guys having fun and looking for American tail.
It was when I finished my second drink and had to break the seal that it happened. I was leaving the bathroom, heading back to my spot at the bar when I saw him.
Travis.
Oh my god, Travis.
He was walking down the stairs leading from his private area at the top.
He was looking right at me.
I only had a second to recognize him, to take him in. That’s all I allowed myself or I would have frozen there on the spot and given myself away. I would have lost it all.
He was as I remembered him, but almost taller in a way. I know that was impossible but that’s what it was like. Thin, straight up and down, in a black suit that made him look slightly sideways. He looked about sixty years old, grey hair slicked back with gel that accentuated his widow’s peak; a handsome man who carried the same kind of feral elegance that Javier did. I could see people underestimating him, not seeing the danger.
But here, in this city, everyone knew who he was. Everyone knew the danger. He could order anyone in the club to be shot and there would be absolutely nothing anyone could do about it. It wouldn’t even get reported to the police and if it did, the police would turn a blind eye. This man held the power of a small universe in his thin, tanned hands.
And he saw me. Or, at least he saw my dress. While his dark, cold eyes were distracted by my breasts, I looked at the bar and kept walking. I didn’t dare look at him again or anywhere else. I kept my sweating hands as loose to my sides as possible, trying desperately not to clench them in case he was watching my every move.
When I got back to my seat, the bartender asked if I was alright. I smiled quickly and told him I’d better slow down my drinking. He gave me a bottle of water and a glass of orange juice.
A million feelings worked their way through me as I felt my heart lower itself into my chest, my lungs widening enough for air. I’d seen him and survived. But this was only the beginning. There was no telling what I’d have to do.
It was funny, when I heard Javier tell me what happened to his sister and her family, I felt anger and sorrow for them. When I heard Amandine explain the decline of her beloved city, I felt the need to straighten out the injustice. Yet I did not feel the anger and the horror of my own wounds, my own place in all of this. It was like what he did to young Ellie Watt had happened to someone else, some poor eleven-year-old girl whom I felt bad for but had no connection to.
Now, now it was all different. Now I felt the rage pulsing through me. I felt the urge to grab the nearest sharp object and spear it into his jugular. I wanted to cut his balls off and feed it to him. I wanted to make him pay for everything he did to me, that one act of violence to a helpless child, an act that ruined her life, her character, her very soul. I wanted revenge for that, for the pain I still felt in my leg when it was raining, for the scars I had to endure, that showed the world just how ugly I was inside, how ugly he made me.
I had to get out of there before I did something stupid.
I leaned over to the bartender and slipped him a twenty dollar bill as a tip.
“Thank you for your service, have a good night.”
And then I left. My eyes were cast on the ground but I still felt Travis looking at me, from somewhere.
The feeling followed me down the street until I turned the corner and got in Javier’s car.
CHAPTER TWENTY
CAMDEN
There was something different. The car had stopped. In the distance, I could hear people hooting and hollering.
Gus was getting out of the car.
“Wait,” I cried out, my voice groggy. “I’m going with you.”
He paused and looked at me. “You look like shit, Camden. You have to stay here.”
I shook my head and sat up. My shoulder ached, my head hurt, everything was moving out of the corner of my vision. I didn’t care.