Page 115 of Fighting the Odds

That thought reminds me of why I’m doing this and gives me strength.

Malcolm Johnson is going to pay for what he did to me.

Another song comes on and we continue to dance, grinding against each other and the pole, putting on a show he will never forget. When the song ends, he calls us over, handing us both another glass of alcohol.

I’m starting to feel the effects of the first drink since I have such a low tolerance. I’ve never been one to drink a lot of alcohol. I’ve seen my aunt, and I never want to turn into an alcoholic. But I take it from him and lift it to my lips, planning to only take a sip.

He has other plans. Mr. Johnson holds it there until every drop is gone before letting go. He then turns to do the same to Arizona, but she catches on and empties the glass.

“Blue, why don’t you go dance some more? Me and Lilac want to watch you.” She hesitates for a moment, but then does as he says.

Suddenly, I’m alone with him. Arizona glances over her shoulder as she makes her way across the room to the pole.

I go to get up, but he grips my leg so tightly I can feel his fingernails digging into my skin. “Where do you think you’re going, Lilac? You’re staying with me.”

He takes hold of my hand and places it on his crotch. The feel of his hard cock makes me want to puke. “You see what you do to me, baby? This is all for you. I don’t care about that other skank. She’s not you. It should’ve been just me and you, but in a few minutes, it’ll be that way.”

He leans forward, picking up another glass sitting on the table. How did I miss that?

“Drink!” he orders.

“I’m good,” I tell him as I try to pull my hand away from his dick, but he holds me still.

“I said to fucking drink it!”

“Okay,” I whimper as I take the glass with my free hand and take a small sip.

“All of it, or should I pour it down your throat?”

My hands shake as I drink the rest of the liquid. Leaning forward to set the empty glass down, I look at Arizona, who’s stumbling as she moves around the pole.

Something’s wrong.

Why haven’t they come in to save us?

He pulls me closer, his hand cupping my crotch, and I try to pull away.

“Stop,” I cry, but it doesn’t come out right.

The room begins to spin and my arms feel heavy.

“That’s it baby, let it take over, then Daddy will give you the fuck you’ve been dying to have. We’re going to let everyone see your grade A stripper pussy.”

He pushes me down on the couch, and my head falls to the side as my back hits the cushion. I try to fight him, but I can’t lift my arms.

He drugged me—again.

Fuck! Arizona!

My eyes shoot over to the pole just as she collapses to the floor.

This is my fault.

Something had to have happened. Bash would never let this happen to her.

The room spins faster and my vision blurs. I try to speak, but my lips don’t want to work.

It’s going to happen again.

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