Page 23 of Paradise Pride

Florence

Alittle disappointed that she wasn’t going to spend the night with Meghan, Florence strolled along the promenade. She was glad Meghan wasn’t alone, but she’d been looking forward to another night of long conversations and maybe more. What had started out as a gesture of goodwill only two nights ago had become both intriguing and exciting and the highlight of her day. She was missing the flirting and the look on Meghan’s face each time she made an innocent pass on her. On second thoughts, it wasn’t so innocent anymore, she supposed. Their moment in the hallway earlier had been filled with promise, and she was convinced something would have happened between them if she’d stayed.

It was quieter than usual on a Sunday night, but that didn’t stop the bars from blasting out party music, so she headed to the beach, took off her shoes and continued barefoot, wading along the shoreline. She wanted to clear her head, and the evening breeze was soothing. The weekend had been so busy she’d barely had the time to process her growing interest in Meghan, and now she had so many thoughts buzzing through her head it was hard to make sense of it all. It had been years since she’d thought so much of someone; even her exes hadn’t made her feel like this.

Was it because she knew it could never be anything more? Was it just the challenge of seducing the only single, straight woman in a resort full of lesbians? She didn’t think so. She wasn’t that shallow, or was she? Checking her phone, she saw a message from Manuel, and in need of distraction, she decided to make a detour and meet him and some of her colleagues in a bar nearby. She was off tomorrow, so there was no reason she shouldn’t, and without a drink or two, there was no chance she’d sleep tonight.

Manuel, who didn’t know she had previous plans of staying with Meghan, sent her another message, and then another one. “Come meet me. We’ve just moved to Pit Stop!”

Pit Stop.Florence groaned. It was the one place she couldn’t tolerate and somewhere she’d only ever end up in her worst nightmares. The music was too loud, the cocktails were overpriced and disgusting, and the clientele mainly existed of drunk British and German tourists. She watched a ship sail along the horizon and mulled over her options, contemplating whether to join her friends or go home, but it was still early, and she rarely had a free night.

Spiralling across the beach, she reached Pit Stop in no time and looked up at the ugly façade as she made her way up from the beach, panting and wondering why her friends had decided to gather in the biggest tourist trap on the busy strip. Her question was soon answered when she spotted several hotel guests partying along with her colleagues.They’re mingling.Florence laughed as she walked up to Manuel, who was dancing with two hotel guests from the Pride event. “I see the party’s not over yet.”

“Nope. We’re going to continue until the early hours.” Manuel gestured to the bar. “Want a drink? I’m getting a round of tequila.”

“It’s fine, I’ll get it,” Florence said, not quite in the mood to dance yet. “How many?”

Manuel counted internally as he pointed to their colleagues and the women who had tagged along. “Nine plus you and me. Thanks, Flo.”

“Coming up.” Florence headed for the bar and had a tequila while she waited for the bartender to pour the other shots.

“Hey, you!” Florence turned at a tap on her shoulder and smiled politely when she saw it was Amber, who she was supposed to be meeting on Tuesday. After Meghan’s reaction and their talk earlier, it didn’t feel right to go out with Amber anymore. She was aware of the woman’s intentions, and for once, she had no interest in sleeping with her.

“Hi, Amber. Would you like a shot?” she asked, making up for the fact that she was about to let her down.

“Sure.” Amber looked smoking in a red dress and red lipstick, and all men and women were looking her way. “But only if you let me buy you one in return.” She inched close as she leaned on the bar and ordered two shots. “How lucky for me that I ran into you. We may not have to wait until Tuesday, after all,” she said in a sultry tone. “By the way, I thought you were busy.”

“I am… I was.” Florence paused. “And about Tuesday…” She ordered one more tequila for Amber and scooted it in her direction. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel.”

Amber pursed her lips and frowned. “Okay, but we have tonight.”

“No, I mean you and me.” Florence shot her an apologetic look. “I don’t want to be any more than just friendly with you. It’s not you, it’s—”

“Don’t you dare sayit’s not you, it’s me,” Amber said with a chuckle. “Good God, woman. No one’s ever turned me down before. No one.” She threw back her own shot followed by Florence’s and grimaced as she shook her head. “Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything. So, what’s the problem? Do you have a girlfriend or something?”

“Something like that,” Florence lied, taking a shot too. “Sorry. Come and have a drink with us, though. We’re over there.”

“Hmm…” Amber looked at the group of happy people and shrugged. “Okay, I suppose I wouldn’t mind that. My friend’s in our room, and she’s got company.” She pointed to the shots on the bar. “Want some help with those?”

“Yes, please.” Florence took as many as she could carry and left the rest for Amber. From the way Amber brushed past her, she had a feeling the woman wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, but they were here now, and keeping Amber company was the least she could do.

23

Meghan

Meghan sat on her bed and hugged her knees, fighting the tightening knot in her stomach. Kim had left after Andres begged her to come back so they could talk, and now she was alone.

Apparently, as Meghan had predicted, it was all a misunderstanding; Andres had been arranging a surprise for Kim but couldn’t tell her what it was, and Meghan was happy for her, but being alone almost choked her. Her neighbours were quiet—she suspected they were either asleep or out on the town—and although there were still plenty of guests in the hotel, she didn’t feel safe.

Come on, Meghan. History won’t repeat itself. It’s all in your head.She should have told Kim the truth and asked her to stay, but she couldn’t find the words. So why had she told Florence, whom she barely knew?

What to do now?She could go for a walk or spend the night in bars, but deep down, she knew this was something she had to overcome, right now, or she’d never be able to travel by herself. She used to love doing that. Before the incident in Paris, she’d backpacked through Southeast Asia and driven through Eastern Europe on her own. Every day had been a surprise; nothing was ever planned. She’d embraced every opportunity and explored places she wouldn’t normally visit. She’d made friends, some for life and some she would never see again, but they’d all left a little piece of them in her heart. And now, she couldn’t even spend one night alone in a busy hotel in Benidorm without panicking.

She hated the men who had caused her to become this way. They had taken something much more valuable from her than her belongings. They’d taken her sense of security, and her freedom. Flashbacks resurfaced, trapping her in memories of that night. Her instinct to flee when she saw them. The intense fear when she’d felt the gun to her temple. The panic when they’d blindfolded her. Her pleads for mercy and gasps for air as they stuffed a smelly piece of cloth into her mouth and taped it so tight around her neck that she couldn’t move her head. The pain in her wrists and her shoulders as they pulled her arms behind her back and taped her to the chair. The darkness, the paralysing agony of not knowing what was going to happen to her. The realisation that she may not even survive. Imagining her parents when the police told them she’d been raped and murdered. The icy touch of a man’s hand on her thigh and his disgusting breath as he whispered into her ear. “What are you wearing underneath that skirt?”The short burst of relief when he moved his hand away. The noises in the room as they rooted through her things. The man’s threat to return before they left. The gun to her temple again, and the other man telling her not to attempt an escape or he’d kill her. And then the silence and the passing of time that seemed to last forever.

The moment the hotel staff came to save her was perhaps the worst of all, as she’d been convinced the same two men had returned. She’d fought them all the way, even though they were only trying to free her. Through her blind panic, she couldn’t see they were different people, that they were good people, and their reassuring words had not registered.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Meghan counted to four while she breathed in, held her breath for four counts and did the same while breathing out slowly, then repeated the action over and over until her heart rate slowed. It only helped a little; the ball of anxiety was still present, rolling through her body, through her brain, clouding her logic. No one here would harm her, and the door was locked. Still, her legs trembled as she stood, took the desk chair and wedged it underneath the doorknob.

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