“Good,” Keets says with a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget, you’re due at the bar at one p.m.”
“Got it.” I watch as Keets leaves, shutting the door behind him.
I’m left alone in the deafening silence. I hate the silence; that’s when I hear the screams in my head. I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. My hand automatically reaches for a beer, but I force it back. I made a promise. “Fuck!” I swear savagely as I slam the fridge door shut and stomp through to my bedroom, hitting the light switch to illuminate the room. It’s sparsely decorated. A large bed stands beneath the window, covered in a black quilt, and a tall wooden dresser sits on the other side by the wall. I walk over to the bed and flick on the touch lamp that sits on the bedside table. Turning the main light back off, I return to the bed and sit on the edge, rubbing my hands over my face. Standing once again, I remove my jeans and t-shirt, sliding beneath the quilt in a pair of Calvin Klein briefs as I reach up and turn off the lamp. Settling back with my hands behind my head, I stare at the ceiling in the dark until I’m lulled to sleep.
“Please, sir, help me,” she begs. Her hand stretches out toward my hiding place. How does she know I’m here? I lost contact with my men hours ago, when I dropped my bag while running from a spray of bullets. The room is dark and dusty, and I can smell the metallic tang of blood, mixed with sweat. It smells like death. I wipe a hand over my sweaty face and peer out between the boxes. She can’t be any older than sixteen, her naked body stretched out on the cold concrete floor. A door on the far side of the darkened room opens and a group of figures walk inside, speaking in hushed tones. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but clearly she understands them because she starts crying in earnest. One of the men steps into a ray of light, and I recoil as the Arab man seems to stare right at me. I wait for them to grab me, drag me from my hiding place. Instead, the young girl’s screams grow louder. Looking out through the boxes once more, my heart thuds loudly in my chest as I watch her struggle against the ropes that hold her hands fast. The man on top of her seems to take no notice of her distress; in fact, he seems to relish it. When he’s done, he leans down and plants a loud, wet kiss against her cheek before standing and tucking his limp dick back into his pants. I watch in horror as another man takes his place above the girl, but as he rapes her, he places his large hands around her throat, cutting off her screams. I swallow hard as I hear the gurgling noise as she chokes. I can’t tear my eyes away as her head is smashed repeatedly against the cold, hard ground, until it’s no longer recognizable. I make a sound low in my throat and quickly fall back as the man looks up sharply, his eyes narrowing as he stares directly at where I’m hiding. The Arab barks orders to the remaining men, who draw knives from their boots and pants as they advance.
A hand grabs my wrist…
I shoot up in bed, gasping for breath. I’m covered in sweat and my heart is racing. But I’m alive.
Willing myself to calm down, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and run my hands over my face. A quick glance at the digital clock on the bedside table reveals the time to be 3am. Flicking on the lamp, I stand up and leave the room, stretching my arms above my head as I enter the kitchen and open the fridge. Grabbing a bottle of beer, I pad on bare feet back through the small house and re-enter the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, I pull the blanket up to my waist and open the bottle. I hesitate only briefly before lifting it to my lips. I know I made a promise to Keets, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
One beer can’t hurt…
When I enter the bar the next afternoon, I’m greeted by a sight I know will be etched into my memory forever. Shannon is bent over the bar as she retrieves a few glasses, her heart-shaped ass sticking proudly up in the air. I feel myself grow instantly hard and groan inwardly. I can’t tear my eyes away from the smooth space of bare skin around her midriff that is exposed when she reaches up to put a glass away. I clear my throat and she spins around, gasping as she holds a hand to her heart. “Ethan,” she says with a small laugh of relief. “You scared me.”
“Stone,” I correct her as I walk over to the bar. “No one’s called me Ethan in years.”
“Stone,” she repeats, testing the name. I like the way it sounds on her lips. My cock does too, as it twitches in my jeans. “We don’t get much of a crowd on Sunday afternoons,” Shannon says, breaking the sexual charge that fills the bar as she takes a step away from me. Did she feel it, too? “Ruth will be in shortly, but you should be able to get out of here by five.”
“Ruth?” I ask, drawing my eyes away from her pert little tits to look at her face. She blushes and ducks her head, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. I decide I like her hair left out of the tie.
Shit, busted.
“Ruth is one of the barmaids here,” Shannon is saying. I force myself to pay attention. But damn she’s making it hard for me to think straight. As if right on cue, the door of the bar opens and I turn to see the same pretty, young blonde I’d tried to save from the drunken fool the night I wrecked the bar.
“Hey, Shan,” she calls out with a bright smile as she drops her handbag on the bar and runs a hand through her hair, staring directly at me. I shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
“Ruth,” Shannon starts with a warm smile. “This is Stone. He’s going to be helping out around the bar for a while.”
“Hello,” Ruth says shyly, looking up at me from beneath heavy, dark lashes.
“Hey,” I reply, giving her a warm smile. She’s pretty—gorgeous, if I’m completely honest. Her platinum blonde hair hangs straight down her back, and her big, blue eyes would make most men drop to their knees and promise her the world.
So, why isn’t she having any effect on me?
I glance over at Shannon just as she looks up at me. Her blue eyes widen, her skin flushes a dull shade of pink, and immediately I feel my cock stir. What is it about her that gets under my skin?
“Thank you,” Ruth is saying, forcing my eyes back over to her.
“I’m sorry?” I respond, feeling like a heel for ignoring her.
“I just wanted to thank you,” Ruth repeats, her small hand resting on my large forearm. “For the way you stood up for me the other night.”
I smile indulgently at her. “Think nothing of it,” I say, perhaps a little too grandly. I glance at Shannon who’s standing there smirking at me. Does she notice the way Ruth is hanging onto my arm, as though I’m her white knight? Is she jealous? Why do I care? I stand up a little straighter, puffing my chest out.
“But I feel terrible,” Ruth continues, shaking her head, tears threatening to spill from her large eyes.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, patting her hand awkwardly as I look desperately at Shannon, who’s still smirking. Help me, I mouth at her.
“Come on, Ruth,” Shannon interjects, smiling brightly as she links arms with the younger girl. “I have some things in the back for you to do this afternoon.”
I watch as she leads Ruth away, throwing a wink at me over her shoulder that almost brings me to my knees. I slump into the nearest chair and rest my head in my hands, leaning against the small round table. My head is killing me. I hadn’t been able to sleep after my nightmare last night… a nightmare that comes all too often.
“Are you okay?” Shannon asks as she re-enters the room. I look up at her wearily, giving her a small smile.
“I’m fine,” I answer, pushing myself up and tucking the chair back in. I follow her over to the bar and start putting clean glasses away as she watches me.
“Listen,” she says, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sorry about last night.”
I pause, half-bent over the bar, and glance up at her. “It’s okay,” I finally reply, putting the last glass away and straightening up. “I understand.”