Page 24 of Between Dusk and Dawn

Hugo came over and poured me another drink as the ticking clock behind me permeated my ears. We were closer to when the college kids came out to play, and the bar was still empty.

After two more drinks and another hour passed, I realized tonight was a fucking dud, but at least I had my liquor coat around me so when I got home I would be warm and fuzzy and hopefully, pass out quickly.

"I’m going to head to the ladies’ room, Hugo. Will you watch my purse?" I nodded to my bag. Fuck if I cared if it got stolen, tobe honest. There was nothing important in there. I kept my keys inside my jean pocket along with my phone.

"For sure." He winked at me.

Wait…he winked at me? I shook my head, convinced it was my booze goggles.

As I made my way back toward the little office where the bathrooms were, I couldn’t help but look down the little hallway where I’d usually take my mark for the night against the wall.

"Not tonight." I sighed as I pushed open the bathroom door, making sure to lock it behind me.

When I finished, I unclicked the lock, grateful there was no mirror inside the bathroom so I wouldn’t have to look at the pathetic person standing on the other side.

As I opened the door, still very much lost in my thoughts, I attempted to round the corner, but a large hand stopped me.

"I brought your purse to you." I paused, giving the person a once-over before realizing it was Hugo with my purse extended in my direction.

"Oh, cool, thanks." I grabbed the crossbody strap, slinging it across my chest before attempting to head back toward the front door, but his arm didn’t falter.

"There is a door behind the office that will take you out closer to the street you live on."

"Oh, wow. Thanks."

Wait a damn minute. "Where I live?"

My heart was racing, and my hands went clammy. How did he know where I lived or that the door back here would be closer? I never told him anything personal, and when I sat at the bar, we would have surface-level conversations.

"Come on, Madison. You must’ve known all these days you’ve been coming to my bar how much I wanted you." He stepped closer, and I backed up, but realized I was in a corner.

"I-I didn't?" It came out as a question.

"Get into the office," he ordered, using his large body to usher me through the door to the left. Panic surged as I assessed the room, desperately seeking anything that could aid my escape.

Two alarming incidents in a single day—it had to be some kind of record. Self-blame crept in; maybe it was a sign to cut back on the drinking. Dwelling on that thought had to wait, as the immediate concern was finding a way to fend off this threat.

"Hey now." I took into account what was in the room: a small desk in the center littered with paperwork, a bookshelf in the corner stacked with ledgers and notebooks that could hurt if I smashed them over his head.

Then a small trophy on a bookshelf caught my attention. I needed to get to it. My hands were so clammy I wasn’t convinced I’d be able to hold onto it. My heart was pounding so loudly, he could probably hear it from where he was standing.

The door Hugo mentioned was right where he said it would be. The trophy was my goal, and then I could get out of there. Taking a deep breath to calm the anxiety, I steadied my nerves and moved with purpose, blending into the surroundings as I made my way toward the door.

"I've been watching you for months, giving yourself to guys who don't deserve you. You enjoy my hospitality, yet now you think it's acceptable to deny me what you freely offer them?" His accusatory tone only intensified the urgency of my escape. Thoughts raced through my mind, my focus fixated on the door and the potential makeshift weapon that might just save me.

"I-I didn't know you felt that way." The words tumbled out, a shaky attempt at salvaging what little control I had left. He shot me a withering look, a mix of disbelief and disdain.

"Dumb, aren't you? Couldn't see what was right in front of you." He scoffed, his tone dripping with condescension. The tension in the room escalated, and his hands slamming onto thesmall desk reverberated throughout the cramped space, making me jump. I continued to inch backward.

"Look, I didn't mean to...I just didn't realize." His laughter sliced through the air, a bitter response to my feeble attempt at an explanation. This would be harder than escaping Peter had been earlier.

"Real smooth, playing dumb now. You think I'll buy that?" My heart raced, then the other bartender came to mind.

"What if the other bartender walks in? We don't want her to see us like this, right?" I ventured, a glimmer of hope that someone might intervene. His eyes narrowed at my attempt to divert the situation.

"She’s not working today. It’s just you and me." He stalked closer toward me.

I refused to look at him, discreetly keeping my eyes on the door, calculating the distance and timing. Summoning every ounce of acting prowess, I widened my eyes, letting fear consume my expression. The goal was to convince him I was terrified, to project the vulnerability that had kept me safe and hidden for so long.

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