Is what he said true?
Was I a tease?
Did I lead him on?
Is that why those guys chose me to rape because they thought I was good for it?
Oh, God. Oh, God. Tears spring to my eyes again, and instead of looking for Diane and Stacey, I decide to leave. I need air. Now.
Grabbing my jacket from the cloakroom, I get my cell out from the back of my jeans and decide to text the girls, not wanting them to be worried about me.
Me:Hey, Diane, I’ve decided to leave, you guys have fun, don’t worry I’ll grab a cab.
Instantly, I get a text reply.
Diane:No we’re coming with you.
I want to be alone, so I text back.
Me:No. Please. You and Stacey have fun. I’ll be okay, I’m just tired.
Diane:Call us if you need us. I’ll come by and see you tomorrow, we need to seriously talk.
I look at her text and know my excuses are running thin with why I’m acting all weird. Maybe it’s time to tell the girls, but not tonight. They need to have fun, it’s their graduation too, after all.
Walking out of the club, I glance to the left and right wondering if I can hail a cab from here. Not seeing any, I check the pocket of my denim jacket and make sure I have my spray ready. I bought this spray to protect me should anything or anyone try to attack me again. This time, I will use pepper spray and hope it will buy me some time. My palm squeezes over the bottle, and with that calming me a little, I turn left and walk a few steps. There are people everywhere on a Friday night, so it should be safe. A cab stops ahead and lets a group of people out, so I run to it and hold the door open, enter, but the driver turns to me saying, “Sorry, I’m done for the night.”
“Please, sir, won’t you take me home?” I beg, really needing to get to safety.
“Sorry, miss. I’m already on overtime and needing to get home to my wife before she kills me.”
With disappointment, I slide back out and slam the door shut, then watch him drive away.
Shit! What am I going to do now?
I can hear loud music coming from a bar and decide it will be safer to head inside and call a cab rather than waiting out here.
Upon entering the bar, I look around. It’s so dark in here, but I can make out a pool table in the corner with a bunch of men playing and a dance floor in the middle. There are booths all around, and straight ahead is a bar, so I head there and pull out a stool to sit on. Taking a seat, I grab my cell out of my jacket when a manly voice cuts through the music. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
I look up and swallow hard.
It’s him—my savior.
I don’t know what to say because right now, he’s scaring the shit out of me. His jaw is clenched, his eyes that come to me in my dreams are looking back at me with disapproval, and I am pretty sure anger. I can barely breathe when I notice the veins in his arms flexing as he squeezes the cue stick in his hand.
“Um… I was… I was just—”
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? What are you doin’ in this bar and alone? What the fuck, Lexi?” he growls, grabbing me by my arm and asking me the same question again, “What the fuck?”
The men at the pool table catch my attention because they’re all wearing the same biker cut as Rhyder, but they all have smirks on their faces.
Why are they smiling at us?
Before I can explain to Rhyder that I’m here to call a cab, I’m being dragged out of the bar with one angry biker slamming his cue stick on the floor. As we exit, I notice all these motorcycles parked out the front, and I don’t know how I missed that—must have been because I was panicking.
This must be a biker bar.
We suddenly stop, and I’m forced to face him, his hand still gripping my arm tightly.