Page 3 of Saviour

“If you bring any trouble to my bar—” she starts before I jump in.

“I won’t, I promise.” I offer her a smile.

“Are you free now?”

“As a bird,” I reply and smile a little wider, thinking back to the swan in the lake.

She nods again and turns her back to me, waving her arm over her shoulder for me to follow.

* * *

I’ve beenat SSC for most of the day and now that the evening is rolling in, it’s getting busier. The bar, SSC, I learnt after two minutes of being here, stands for Sophie’s Strip Club. Sophie, the lady I spoke to earlier, showed me around, told me what I needed to do, and I’ve been delivering drinks to tables and collecting empty glasses since.

I briefly met some of ‘Sophie’s girls’, which is what she called the dancers, but mostly kept to myself. I’m here for one night and then I’ll be moving on like always. There’s no point in making friends.

It’s not a conventional strip club. Only one girl danced for so long and they never stripped to anything less than well covered underwear or baby doll lingerie. There are private booths and also communal seating but overall it’s a pretty casual vibe.

I’m only eighteen after all and the stereotypes I’ve heard about strip clubs had me pretty wary, but this isn’t so bad.

The hours kept going. I filled my stomach with a big meal of burger and chips and felt the strongest I had in months. Hell, I think I even might’ve put on a little weight after that feast.

I go behind the bar to chug yet another glass of water down my throat and peering over the rim of the glass, I spot a tall man making his way across the club floor to a booth situated near the stage at the front.

The smaller man in the booth sits up straighter and the two men exchange words, but I have no idea what they’re saying. I’m entranced with the tall, muscular guy, hidden in the shadows of the dim lights, a crisp suit stretched across his frame.

The conversation seems to get more heated and the tall guy swipes a large hand through blond wavy hair and I subconsciously play with my plait on my shoulder, mesmerised by the act of something as simple as that.

After many heated minutes, the tall, blond man walks away, his back to me as he pushes through the exit door at the back.

And my heart stops when for a slight pause, he stops with that large hand on the door and looks over his shoulder, catching my gaze.

I’m busted, but I can’t take my eyes off him. I have no idea what colour his are from here, but I know those eyes would suck me in so deep I’d be begging for mercy.

Until the moment is taken away from me and he proceeds out the door.

I shake myself out of my trance and pick up my tray, ready to get back to work, when a hand lands in front of me at the bar and the other guy from the booth I was watching moments ago smiles a slimy grin my way.

“All right, poppet?”

I stand frozen and look around to see where the bartender is to take the man's order. I wasn’t told how to do that.

“So are you with Rhivers?” he says again, nodding his head in the direction of the exit door.

“Umm, pardon?” I say politely, feeling uncomfortable.

I shuffle on my feet and when the man says no more, I turn away from him and see a bin bag behind the bar. Picking it up, I lift it and head towards the exit sign, smiling at the gentleman as I pass in the hopes he’ll see I’m busy and leave me alone.

Unfortunately, I only get myself into a worse situation as he follows me out into the secluded dark alleyway.

I drop the bin bag into the large bin and attempt to go back inside, only to find him blocking my path. My mind goes into panic mode, thinking of the different ways I can get myself out of this situation, but the only option I have is to run, and even then I still won’t make it past the man.

Why is he bothering me? Why did I come out here instead of just finding Sophie? But then again, if she found out I was causing trouble in her bar, I’d be fucked. She’d probably kick me out.

The man reaches for my arm, but I pull back and try to push him away. However, as expected, he’s much stronger than my futile attempt and in retaliation, he grabs both of my arms.

“Keep fucking still,” he shouts at me as I push and shove, trying to free my arms, but his grip just continues to tighten.

Small whimpers and shallow breaths escape my lips as I fight, but nothing works. I am utterly and royally fucked. Even more than I was a couple hours ago.

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