Page 6 of All Your Hate

In the staff room, I count out my tips and tuck them securely into my purse. It’s a decent amount tonight. Enough for pizza with Summer and to not have to stress over groceries for a week or so. As I leave through the back door, I send Charlie a quick text to let her know I’m heading home. It’s almost dawn and I’m sure I’ll be home by the time she wakes up and reads it, but I like to check in anyway.

My walk home feels longer than ever. It doesn’t help that my heels rub painfully on my feet and my lower back aches.

A large black car passes by and I clutch my bag tighter to my side, the bills inside feeling like a big red ‘come mug me’sign.

The streets are quiet at this time of day. Too early for anyone to be up for their day jobs yet so if someone does decide to jump me I’d be on my own.

I spot the sign for the subway just up ahead. Usually, I wouldn’t waste money on it, but spending a little on it is better than losing everything if some guy rushes me.

I’m almost at the steps down when the same black car pulls around the corner again. This time it comes to a stop. Something in me tells me to keep an eye on it. I’m probably being paranoid and they’re lost. Still, I end up picking up my pace as the doors open and two large men step out. I don’t look long enough to take in their faces.

The steps are just ahead. So close. But my stupid heels are slowing me down. I take another glance over my shoulder and the men are coming this way. Black ski masks cover their faces and in each of their hands is a gun. Fuck.

The sun’s coming up and they stick out in the morning light, but that doesn’t stop them from chasing after me.

Kicking my heels off, I run for it.

I only make it a few feet before a wall of muscle slams into my back, knocking me to the ground.

“Help!” I scream out. My chin bounces off the concrete and pain shoots up through my jaw as blood fills my mouth. I have to spit it out so I don’t choke.

The man’s weight bears down on me. There’s so much pressure on my upper back and all the oxygen is gradually expelled from my lungs as he keeps pressing me down.

I try to call out for help again, but two hands close around my throat and squeeze until it feels like my brain’s going to burst out of my skull.

Through the pounding in my ears, I can just about make out the sound of someone talking.

I try to push up off the ground but the man squeezes my neck tighter. “Stop,” a Russian voice exclaims. I recognize him instantly from the club.

He switches to English to say, “Don’t damage her too much already. These ones need to come in clean.”

The fact that he purposefully said that so I’d understand him tells me I’m not getting out of this alive.

The hands disappear from my neck and I gasp in a lungful of air. “Please,” I choke out, turning my head to look at the men. My cheek is smashed against the ground before I can get another look at them. “I have money in my purse, just take it.”

“You’re going to make us more than the measly tips my friend tossed you.” The man on top of me chuckles close to my ear.

The next thing I know there’s a sharp prick in my neck and the cold realization of what’s happening sinks in.

It only takes a few seconds for whatever they injected me with to work.

Summer’s face is the last thing I see before the world tumbles out from beneath me.

1

WYNTER

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…

My fingers brush over each metal bar of my cell as I blindly count them. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane nowadays. As long as I can feel the smooth metal against my fingertips then I know I’m safe here in my pitch-black prison.

That is until the door inevitably opens at the top of the stairs and another slither of my humanity is torn from me.

Speak of the devil. My prison is brought to life as the door is unlocked and the harsh white light that’s flicked on illuminates the small space. My eyes burn like they always do at this point and I squeeze them closed. I don’t need to be able to see to know where I am down here or what’s about to happen.

My fingers keep gliding over the bars and I continue my count. Heavy footsteps come down the stairs and I know I only have a few seconds before my cage is unlocked.

Some days I look forward to any sort of human interaction, other days I’d rather die than have the men here lay another finger on me. Today is a day to die.

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