I could count on one hand the number of times I’d ever raised my voice against anyone. It seemed to echo in the empty room and the quiet that followed felt painful.
I squirmed my wrist out of his grasp and threw myself into the doors, through the lounge, and out into the parking lot. The humid night air hit me like a wall, coated my skin like sweat. The parking lot was nearly empty, though Davis’s car was still there and so was a smaller, sportier black convertible I guessed was Sean’s. There was no way I was going back in there to find Davis for a ride home, but I was so far from Philomel. There was nothing to do but pull my jacket across my body despite the heat and hurry through the parking lot towards the sidewalk. There was a subway stop a few blocks from the club.
I marched the whole way, a roil of messy emotions locked up inside of me. Anger, sure. Humiliation? In spades. Worse were the other feelings, the pleasure, the sense of relief the first time I laid eyes on him again. The wet evidence between my legs that he still did it for me. The weakness in my knees. My heart. My head. He didn’t deserve such uninhibited response but even my body betrayed me.
The city felt darker tonight, bright sky lights from downtown’s skyscrapers blocked out the stars.
The steps down were well lit and I hurried into the warm underground. The humidity below ground made my skin feel sticky despite the occasional blasts of cool air when a train passed through the tunnel. I swiped my card and followed a second flight of stairs to the next level.
The platform wasn’t empty when I reached it, though I still had ten minutes until the next night train. A man sat on the one bench with his back against the mosaic wall. Scratchy beard growth shadowed his jaw and chin and he was thin despite the definition in his arms. He glanced my way when I stepped under the platform lights.
He nodded. I sat down on the end of the bench nearest the stairs. He wasn’t threatening or even particularly mean and ugly looking, but I still put half a bench between us. I still kept the world at a safe distance.
“Quiet night,” he said. I nodded without answering. I pressed my palms to the edge of the bench and stared at my feet. “They say it’s supposed to storm pretty bad for the next few days.”
“I hadn’t heard,” I answered quietly.
“You ok?” he asked and I glanced up, surprised at his tone. “He must have been some guy.”
“Is it that obvious?”
He smiled easily. “Girls have a way of looking when a man has made them cry. Nothing else does that. Good women are wasted on us. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged and stared at my feet again. “So it goes.”
The man fell silent and so did I. Somewhere I heard the ting ting ting of water dripping off metal and a very distant thunder of a train passing through one of the lines.
My misery made me careless and so, so stupid. The man got up and I didn’t and then he was in front of me, blocking me between his body and the wall. He held a knife in his hand, fist wrapped around its hilt so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Sorry,” he said and licked his mouth until his lips were shiny and horrible. “Sorry. Give me your purse. Give it to me now.”
Everything in my brain Sean had broken scrambled to understand what was happening, to understand what to do. I had pepper spray in my purse but I couldn’t move, my nose inches from the tip of his blade. I sat up very slowly as he licked his mouth again.
“Give it to me now.”
“W-what?”
Crack. The back of his hand impacted my cheek so hard I saw stars and colors and explosions behind my eyes. The force sent me reeling from the bench onto my hands and knees on the dirty white tile. Throbbing, wet pain seeped down my cheek where his ring had hit and God it hurt . Everything hurt, like he’d taken a baseball bat to my body. I heard him turn my bag over on the bench and begin pawing through my things.
“Nothing,” he said,
I squirmed my wrist out of his grasp and threw myself into the doors, through the lounge, and out into the parking lot. The humid night air hit me like a wall, coated my skin like sweat. The parking lot was nearly empty, though Davis’s car was still there and so was a smaller, sportier black convertible I guessed was Sean’s. There was no way I was going back in there to find Davis for a ride home, but I was so far from Philomel. There was nothing to do but pull my jacket across my body despite the heat and hurry through the parking lot towards the sidewalk. There was a subway stop a few blocks from the club.
I marched the whole way, a roil of messy emotions locked up inside of me. Anger, sure. Humiliation? In spades. Worse were the other feelings, the pleasure, the sense of relief the first time I laid eyes on him again. The wet evidence between my legs that he still did it for me. The weakness in my knees. My heart. My head. He didn’t deserve such uninhibited response but even my body betrayed me.
The city felt darker tonight, bright sky lights from downtown’s skyscrapers blocked out the stars.
The steps down were well lit and I hurried into the warm underground. The humidity below ground made my skin feel sticky despite the occasional blasts of cool air when a train passed through the tunnel. I swiped my card and followed a second flight of stairs to the next level.
The platform wasn’t empty when I reached it, though I still had ten minutes until the next night train. A man sat on the one bench with his back against the mosaic wall. Scratchy beard growth shadowed his jaw and chin and he was thin despite the definition in his arms. He glanced my way when I stepped under the platform lights.
He nodded. I sat down on the end of the bench nearest the stairs. He wasn’t threatening or even particularly mean and ugly looking, but I still put half a bench between us. I still kept the world at a safe distance.
“Quiet night,” he said. I nodded without answering. I pressed my palms to the edge of the bench and stared at my feet. “They say it’s supposed to storm pretty bad for the next few days.”
“I hadn’t heard,” I answered quietly.
“You ok?” he asked and I glanced up, surprised at his tone. “He must have been some guy.”
“Is it that obvious?”
He smiled easily. “Girls have a way of looking when a man has made them cry. Nothing else does that. Good women are wasted on us. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged and stared at my feet again. “So it goes.”
The man fell silent and so did I. Somewhere I heard the ting ting ting of water dripping off metal and a very distant thunder of a train passing through one of the lines.
My misery made me careless and so, so stupid. The man got up and I didn’t and then he was in front of me, blocking me between his body and the wall. He held a knife in his hand, fist wrapped around its hilt so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Sorry,” he said and licked his mouth until his lips were shiny and horrible. “Sorry. Give me your purse. Give it to me now.”
Everything in my brain Sean had broken scrambled to understand what was happening, to understand what to do. I had pepper spray in my purse but I couldn’t move, my nose inches from the tip of his blade. I sat up very slowly as he licked his mouth again.
“Give it to me now.”
“W-what?”
Crack. The back of his hand impacted my cheek so hard I saw stars and colors and explosions behind my eyes. The force sent me reeling from the bench onto my hands and knees on the dirty white tile. Throbbing, wet pain seeped down my cheek where his ring had hit and God it hurt . Everything hurt, like he’d taken a baseball bat to my body. I heard him turn my bag over on the bench and begin pawing through my things.
“Nothing,” he said,
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