Page 159 of Haze of Obedience
"Get your hands off me," I cry out.
"You're going to be late."
"But I'm not!" I shrug out of his grasp and take my position behind the curtain but then turn to the band. "Start off with Country Boy."
The lights fade, and music starts, and I grasp Dirk's pendent. I assume he's here, but I don't know for sure. Either way, I sing with everything I have. I sing for him.
When I finish the song, I announce that it's Jorge Cano's birthday and ask the crowd to join me and sing Happy Birthday.
As required, I approach him. Jorge sits between the U.S. President and U.K. Prime Minister, and the look in his eyes is one I've seen before. It's an expression all the Global Leaders have mastered.
He thinks he's going to have me.
But it isn't just him. The same expression resides on the U.S. President and U.K. Prime Minister and fear courses through me. I have to focus hard on continuing the song.
Jorge reaches out, grabs me, and throws me over his shoulder, slapping my ass hard several times. It takes everything I have to keep singing as tears fall down my face. The men in the room all laugh and shout. Jorge sets me down but rises and spins me into his body. He grinds his hardened erection against my ass.
My insides crumple, and I grip the microphone, and rattlesnake pendent, scared of what's to come after this song is over.
Suddenly, all the lights go out, and the power to the microphone dies. Screams fill the room and two loud bangs ring in the air. Jorge falls next to me. I can't see him, but I feel the weight of his body.
Within seconds, I smell my favorite scent in the entire world—Dirk’s skin. It's as potent, woody, and raw as ever. The arms I've dreamed of holding me again wrap around me, and he murmurs in my ear, "Stay quiet and don't let go."
