I don’t love that Blade and Arrow is spending money on me just so I can work. But hopefully—hopefully—when my life gets back to normal I can find a job that will pay enough for me to reimburse at least some of the money they spent on me.
Just as I’m closing out my fourth table, Jase pulls me aside and asks me to grab some napkins from the storage room. It makes sense, since I’m the new person, and it’s not a big deal to grab some supplies. But my stomach turns to iron, dropping to my feet.
Rylan said I shouldn’t be alone. Although he technically said I should always be with at least two people. But I know what he meant, and I also know he wouldn’t be thrilled about me going to the storage room by myself.
But crap.
Jase is staring at me, his frown growing as he waits for my answer. It’s a simple request, and I should have replied yes immediately, not hesitating long enough to make it weird.
“Charlie?” His voice has an edge to it. “Is there a problem?”
Crap. But it’s just the storage room. Some napkins, in and out. Nothing to it.
“No,” I rush to answer. “No problem. I was”—I cast about for an excuse—“just trying to remember where it was.”
I’m not sure if Jase believes me, but he tips his head in the direction. “Head toward the restrooms, then take the hallway on the left.”
“Okay.” And I rush off, my heart pounding. I can’t afford to lose the first job I managed to find after weeks of searching.
I make it to the supply room, locate the napkins on a top shelf—of course—and as I climb on a little step stool to reach them, I scold myself about making nothing into something. It’s napkins, for Pete’s sake. I used to make storage room runs all the time when I used to wait tables.
It’s fine.
Until it isn’t.
Until the door flies open and I’m yanked off the stool, hauled up against a solid form behind me.
Before I can even yelp in surprise, one strong arm is locked around my stomach, a sweaty hand clamped over my mouth.
I start kicking, bucking, twisting; anything to get free. But this arm is scary strong, it’s like fighting iron.
My screams are useless, muffled, no chance of anyone hearing me outside the room.
My lungs are exploding. I can’t breathe.
Then I’m slammed against the wall, still stifled, trapped by this man—it has to be a man, he’s too strong, there’s a hint of aftershave, bitter and pungent.
And then I know it’s a man. Something hard on my back, prodding—
NO. Everything goes blank. I can’t think as the terror takes over.
A hand grabs my breast, squeezing hard.
Gray spots are filling my vision. But my nose is free—why can’t I get air?
I forgot to breathe. For a moment, I forgot about everything except fear.
Breathe. Fight. Get away.
I need Rylan. Oh, please.
The earring.
I need to get to the earring.
Now that I have something else to focus on, I’m a dervish. Wriggling, flailing, kicking. I land a sharp blow to his leg and he chuckles. “You’re really into this, Charlie. It’s okay, you can kick me. I like it.”
What?