Page 32 of Last Breath

What the hell kind of trouble do they think I’ll get into in a cheap clothing store? Appeasing Malachi, I say, “Fine, I’ll take it.”

Placing the knife in my pocket seems to relax Mal. “Thanks. That makes me feel better.” Running a hand down my face, he bends, kisses me on the lips and walks back to the car.

“Stressful men. I thought Gran was trouble,” I mumble as I approach the small shop.

Trading in a few of my Gran’s rings and a bracelet my mother—in one of her more giving moods—had given me, I had enough cash I figured for a good coat and maybe a pair of warmer boots. Ringing the bell as I step in, the warmth of the interior is inviting. Rubbing my arms, I look around, impressed. There are racks of coats, a wall full of boots, and along the side are sweaters, long sleeves and tank tops. What made me the happiest was the ‘going out of business’ sign that said below it, sixty percent off. I might be lucky enough to find a few things.

“Come in, child. You look frozen,” a voice says from somewhere off in the stacks. I don’t see the owner, but eventually, a tiny lady no more than four feet tall and just as wide, swings around the corner with a wide smile and bright eyes. “You don’t have much on those bones to freeze. Let’s find you some clothes.”

Her bright pink sweater, purple tinted jeans, blue hair and grandiose Christmas trees hanging from her ears startles me a little.

“I’m a—I’m just browsing,” I stutter, taking in her attire.

“Come on now. You can’t be warm.” Coming close, she touches my arm. “Oh! Sweetheart, you’re frozen for sure.”

Taking me by the hand and not letting me browse alone, the elderly lady takes me from shelf to shelf, grabbing up tons of attire.

As she rakes piece upon piece onto my arms, I finally say, “I don’t have the money for all of this. Besides, I like you.”

After a few more shirts, she pushes me into the change room. I can’t remember the last time I shopped for clothing. I can’t remember the last time it had tags on it that weren’t from the secondhand store. My options had been limited, worn out, and only in the budget of Gran’s pension.

“I’ll be out here. Just try things on.” Hanging a few things on the wall and stepping out, the lady taps on a stack of shirts. “I bet these will be perfect.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you, but I don’t have a lot of money to spend. I only came in—”

She pats me on the shoulder. “Sweetie. You see the name outside on that sign? Mrs. Mary’s. I’m Mrs. Mary, and I’m closing the shop after winnin’ the Powerball.” Winking, she grins wide. “I’m buying me a little house in Puerto Rico and living out my days with margaritas and coconut rum. Just do this old lady a favor and try this all on. We’ll work out the dollars after.”

Shutting the door to the change area she’s set me up in, I hear her as I’m locking the door. “How you doin’ in there, folks?”

Piping up, a dark voice growls out, “We’re fine. Don’t worry about us.”

Her voice is softer, worrisome as she answers. “Fine, fine. You need anything, you tell Mrs. Mary.”

Hearing her walk away, I get down to the task at hand. Mrs. Mary had to have grabbed me at least ten shirts and sweaters. Pushing through the pile, flicking shirt after shirt over my head, I look in the mirror. I love the feel of new—the textures, the smells, and the fit. I swear I could get used to this.

“Shut up and strip down. I’ve had enough of waiting on you,” the dark voice from the stall next to me growls.

“I’m sorry. I just want to go home. Please, please—I want to go home.”

As she sobs, I hear the rough voice say, “Stupid cunt. Get the clothes off before I rip them off.” Muttering, I hear her wince as he cusses. “Fucking teenager.”

Why is there a man in there with a young girl?

“Please, I won’t tell anyone., I just want to go home.”

“I told you before, you’re not leaving here until I get what I want. Now take those fucking clothes off,” he grinds out. His voice carries with it a whispered threat of harm if she defies him.

Knocking on the wall between us, I ask, “Is everything okay in there?”

“Fuck off. Mind your own business before I make you shut up too.”

The fuck you will.

Crying in earnest, the girl is definitely in distress and I’ve had enough. I need to know what’s going on and if I can help. Dressing in my clothes I had on when I came here—because the last thing I want to do is ruin anything I haven’t paid for—I creep out from underneath my stall and start toward their dressing room. Slinking quietly, slowly, I reach them. Looking under the side, it’s obvious there’s an issue. He has to be at least double her age and she’s no more than a teenager. Tears stream down her cheeks in silent rivers as he takes advantage of her. Holding her on the bench, her back tight to the wall and her knees to the side, his fat fingers are entering her and stroking her clit as he grasps his own cock tightly, moving his hand up and down. “I can’t wait to fuck you. You’ll be quiet or I’ll hurt your sister. I’ll teach her what it means to tease men, just like you teased me.”

She doesn’t answer. She’s silently staring at the mirror on the side of her room, closing off from the pain.

From where I am, he can’t see me. With them having such a large room, and unless he looked in the mirror, he’d never even know I was close.

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