The back of my hand flies to my mouth, and I gag as I take in the scene in front of me. A girl, fully naked, is bent over the edge of the stage, her chest pressed on the polished wooden floor, while her ass is bared. One of E's guards is standing on the stage with his boot on her back, and my boss is pounding into her from behind. There is absolutely nothing consensual about this.
I'm breathing so fast that black spots appear in my vision. There is no way I can leave this girl to their mercy. When she lifts her head slightly, I can see through the strands plastered on her face that she's the dancer who was supposed to start next week. Is he doing this to all the new girls? He's never touched me. I need to do something. Oh God, I can't take on both of them, though. Or can I? I have to.
They are violating this poor girl, who's probably not much older than me. I bend down and pull my Du Hoc blade out of my boot. This blade was a gift, and despite everything it represents, I have kept it safe for over a decade. Tonight, it will finally come in use.
I creep one inch closer at a time, staying to the edge of the room that is still mostly shrouded in shadow thanks to the lingering smoke. I need to get rid of E's guard first, but there is no way I can get to him undetected. Plus, E's favorite gun is laying on the stage—within his reach. E has to go first. I can only pray that, once his paycheck is gone, his guard's loyalty will shift.
I'm so dead.
My jaw hurts from clenching it, but I won't allow myself to breathe through my mouth and potentially end up giving myself away—by screaming or something equally stupid. When I get to the point where I have to step away from the wall to reach my raping pig of a boss, I drop to all fours and move from one seating area to the next, never letting the guy on the stage out of my sight. He almost looks bored and pays E no attention as he assaults the girl in the most vile way. His hand is now fisted in her matted hair, and her head is pulled back. From my angle, I can't see her face, but I don't have to. Her whimpers are perfectly audible over the music, which has changed to a quieter tune.
I'm behind the booth facing the stage, with a direct view of my employer's pale, naked ass as he thrusts forward more forcefully every time. If I'd been on my feet, my knees would've given out by now. I keep swallowing over the bile forcing its way up. I haven't eaten in hours, so I'm not concerned about throwing up anything of value—like nourishment.
E begins to grunt, and goose bumps erupt all over my body. He's about to be done, and I have no clue what'll happen next. I need to act now. With my heart beating in my throat, I swallow one more time, clench my knife, and leap over the back of the booth. It all happens so quickly. I use the cushioned seat to propel me forward and reach him in three strides. With a scream, I lift my arm and plunge the curved blade into the side of my boss's neck—
"King! Princess, wake up. KING!"
I sit up with a start and immediately wrap my arms around my stomach. No, no, no. Not again. Someone touches my shoulder, and the scream—the same sound that came out of my mouth when I killed E—erupts from my lungs.
I squeeze my eyes shut and scramble away from whoever is in my bed. Where is Echo?
The door flies open, and the ceiling light illuminates the room. The mattress dips, and hands touch my face.
"I'm here. Take a breath. It was a dream. You're safe." Mags repeats the same words over and over, stroking my cheek while I sit cross-legged on my mattress, rocking back and forth.
"What is going on? What's wrong with her?" another voice filters through to my brain.
"You need to leave," Mags commands to whoever is talking.
"The fuck I am."
Wes. Oh God, Wes is here. Why is he here?
I blink through the tears and turn my head in the direction of his voice. Wes stands in the middle of my small room, wearing only briefs. His hair is tousled, and his hands are clasped on top of his head. He locks eyes with mine, and his concern is my undoing. I cover my mouth with my hands to muffle the sob threatening to burst out.
Mags touches my chin and nudges me to look at her. "Do you want him to leave? I can call Grizz if—"
I shake my head.
Her tone is calm. She's been through this with me too many times to count. One of the many reasons I love this girl.
Wes waited for me when I got home from work, like he said he would. But instead of talking about the past week, we watched a movie in the living room. The last thing I remember is him taking my hand and resting my head on his shoulder. The comfort and feeling of safety let me relax.
I slowly drop my hands back to my lap and draw in a hiccuped breath. "N-no. It's okay."
"You sure?"
"You heard her. Stop being a b—" Wes's angry remark gets interrupted by my other girl pushing past him and jumping on the bed.
"Hey, sweet girl. Where were you?" I nuzzle my nose in her fur as she climbs in my lap. Echo also has seen me like this—many times.
"I had just let her out when you screamed," Mags explains. "I must've left the back door open when I came running."
I look at my best friend. "Thank you."
She strokes my cheek one more time. "Of course. Do you need anything?"
I shake my head, and Mags stands slowly. When she's in front of Wes, she tilts her head up. "Do not push her to give you answers she's not ready to give." Her tone doesn't leave room for negotiation. Wes dips his head once in acknowledgment, then walks around my friend to the bed. Without hesitation, he climbs back under the covers. He sits against the headboard and lifts an arm.