Page 104 of Filthy Elites

Haley:Fine. I won’t approach him, but you should hurry. I think he’s leaving soon.

I shovemy phone back in my pocket and continue to chew on my nail. My mind is rioting with all sorts of scenarios. What if Viks doesn’t get here in time and this guy just disappears? What can I even do to stop him? I stare across the room, watching the man wearing the baseball cap nod to the man in the sunglasses and then stalk off. Shit. He’s leaving.

Before I can think better of it, I launch myself out of the alcove as the dealer turns and starts to head off.Don’t approach. Don’t approach. Don’t approach.Viks’ warning circles in my head.Fine,I think.I won’t approach him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t follow him and just keep him in my sights.

So, I do exactly that. As the dealer weaves in and out of the crowd, making his way across the club, I start to trail him—shifting through parties of people and pausing every so often as more than one group of people cuts off my path.

The man slips towards a back hallway—the same one that leads to the back exit and the bathrooms. I bite down on my lower lip, glancing around. There are still clubbers around, though not as many. My chances of getting caught rise significantly the second I step into that hallway. I pray Viks gets here sooner rather than later because there’s no fucking way I can just let this guy get away.

Rounding the corner, I scan the hallway in surprise. The man’s already fucking gone. Without thinking, I start to run towards the exit. I get about halfway down the hallway when a hand whips out, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me into one of the storage rooms across from the bathrooms.

A startled scream erupts from my throat only to be cut off a moment later as a leather encased hand slaps over it. He’s wearing gloves and as he pinches down on my nose and covers my mouth in one go, my eyes widen in shock and panic as my air is cut off.

“What have I caught here?” The man’s voice is deep and gravelly, almost a rasp—as if he’s smoked more than half a pack of cigarettes every day of his entire life. “A little mouse trying to follow me home?”

My back hits a wall between two storage shelves and I blink against the darkness inside the small, cramped room. I shake my head vigorously. The man’s hand leaves my mouth and nose and I gasp for breath.

“No!” I say quickly, sucking in as much air as I can manage. “I’m sorry, I was just heading to the bathroom to—”

“You passed the bathroom up the hall, dear,” The man interrupts as his hand lowers and clamps around my throat. “Try again.”

“I-I wasn’t—” His fingers contract, once again cutting off my oxygen.

Shit fuck.His free hand moves up and into my hair, wrapping my ponytail around his fist; he uses his hold to push my head back even further as I reach up, clawing at his wrist as spots start to dance in front of my vision. He’s a lot stronger than he looks.

“Why don’t you tell me the truth, sweetheart?” he suggests.

I start to struggle in earnest now, panic eating away at my rationality. I can’t fucking breathe and that, itself, is making me panic more than anything else. The man keeps his hand clamped down on my neck as I fight against him, pushing at his chest, clawing at the arms that hold me up against the wall.

I hate to admit it, but Viks was right. I should’ve just kept to myself and not followed this man. I didn’t consider the consequences—consequences that are now staring me right in the face with a toothy grin as the older man slips his sunglasses up his face to rest on top of his head and now I realize why he’s wearing them—he’s half blind.

One eye is completely milky white, while the other is a clear brown. It’s disconcerting to someone who’s slowly being suffocated to death. “Pretty little mouse,” he says, leaning forward. I stiffen when I feel the long bridge of his nose against the thrumming pulse in my throat. “You smell good. Come on, why don’t you tell me what you were doing following me, eh? Did your friends tell you about what I have?” The hand in my hair disappears as he slips it into his pocket and pulls out a small bag of what looks like white powder stamped into tiny pills. “You want some of this? All you had to do was ask, sweetheart. I give one for free to all my new clients. The rest, though…” He presses himself against me and my eyes widen at the unwelcome sensation of a hard cock rubbing against my lower stomach. “The rest you’ll have to pay for, but I think we can work something out if you don’t have the money. I’m generous after all.”

Despite the pressure against my neck, I shake my head. “No,” I try to croak out.

“No? You don’t want this?” He shakes the bag in front of my face as my nails sink down even harder into his arms. He doesn’t even react. The spots in front of my vision grow wider, fuzzier. “Then why were you following me, hmmm?”

The bag crinkles as he puts the end between his rotting teeth and pops it open, reaching inside to pull out one of the tiny pills. Tears begin to leak out of the corners of my eyes. It’s getting harder and harder to fight him. My eyelids lower as my mouth gapes open, gasping for air.

“That’s a good girl, it’s alright.” The man’s soothing tone is more frightening than anything else. I can guess what he’s doing, but I can’t stop it. There’s no stopping it for me.

I should’ve listened to Viks. That thought turns over and over in my mind and though a part of me hates the bastard—I wish he were here. If he were here, this wouldn’t be happening. More tears continue to pour down my cheeks as the man shoves the pill against my mouth. I snap my lips shut in an effort to ward him off.

He chuckles. “Now, now, don’t be like that,” he says. His hand releases my throat and without thinking, my lips part on a gasp as oxygen rushes back into my lungs. A heady feeling snaps through my head as clarity returns for a split-second— but it’s too late, the pill is shoved into my mouth.

I turn, intending to spit it right back out, but his hand clamps down over my nose and mouth once more as he quickly seals the bag with his mouth and then drops it back into his pocket. His now free arm bands around my head, holding me in place. I shove the pill to the front of my mouth with my tongue, but it’s already starting to dissolve.

“It’s fast, isn’t it?” The man chuckles as my mind grows fuzzy again, and this time, I know it’s not the lack of oxygen.

I scream against the hand covering my mouth and nose. I scream and scream—begging for the universe to not be so cruel. But the universe is indifferent and soon my screams stop and my muscles grow lax as calm descends over me.

As if sensing my lack of fight, the man releases me and even helps me down as my body collapses and my legs go numb. I sink to the floor and he cups my cheek almost kindly.

“There we are,” he says, the sound of his voice hypnotic. “Feeling good, now, aren’t we?” I can’t respond. My whole body is numb with relaxation and I start to wonder why I was even fighting him in the first place. I can’t remember.

The man’s hands go to my shorts and I feel something pulled out from my pocket—my cell. He sets it aside and then reaches for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and off. “You lay just like that sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll take my payment and you can have a few more pills. Just one always gets ‘em hooked.”

He kneads my breasts, fingers pinching down on my nipples through my bra. It should hurt, but it doesn’t. I should be fighting him, but I can’t.

---