Slave to the Rhythm (13 page)

Looking around covertly, I pulled out my phone, turned off the flash, and snapped a photograph. Something to remember him by—the hottest guy who’d ever hit on me.

The thought made me smile.

When the two men left the stage and the girls formed a chorus line for the can-can, I lost interest. My bladder reminded me of the three Mimosas that I’d had earlier.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I whispered in Jo’s ear.

“Want me to take you?”

I winced internally. I hated to feel like a kindergartener, but I just smiled at Jo—it wasn’t her fault.

“No, that’s okay. You enjoy the show. I want a full report if that guy comes back on stage.”

Jo waggled her eyebrows.

“Maybe I should get closer for a hands on approach.”

I nodded at the stage which was just a few feet away.

“Any closer and you’d be sitting in his lap.”

“I wish,” sighed Jo. “See you in a few.”

I didn’t want to miss the show, but I didn’t know where the bathrooms were and experience told me that waiting until it was urgent would be a mistake.

The usher pointed to a door by the fire exit and I pushed myself forward. From the sound of the bass pumping through the walls, I guessed that I was close to the backstage area.

The corridor was badly lit and very long. My arm muscles began to ache and I wondered if the usher had sent me the wrong way.

But then, with a sigh of relief, I spotted the sign for the bathroom right at the end of the corridor. At least it would be emptier now than during the intermission.

Cursing at the sweat trickling down my back and armpits, I nudged the door open.

“You think you can hide from me, you piece of shit!” screamed a man’s voice. “I’m going to fuck your ass so hard you’ll shit your own eyeballs!”

Laney

A CHOKED GASP
escaped, and immediately four of the five men in the room turned around to glare, the ice in their eyes shocking me.

I was frozen, unable to move, and in that brief, horrifying moment, I stared at the scene in front of me.

One man was suspended between two others, his arms trapped brutally, his head hanging down. He was naked and his ripped clothes were scattered across the floor, a tattered shirt still hanging from one shoulder. Red marks marred his smooth skin where the fourth man had rained down fists across his ribs.

Worse still, the man’s back and ass cheeks were lacerated where he’d been flogged with a leather belt, still clutched in the hands of the thug doling out the brutal and humiliating punishment.

The thug lowered his arm and glanced at the fifth man, as if seeking orders.

I had to swallow back bile when the small man in the suit tucked his erect penis back in his pants, a coldly furious expression on his face.

I’d interrupted something bad, something so horrific no one was supposed to see.

The naked man’s head came up and he stared over his shoulder with bloodshot eyes.

Horrified recognition flared.

“Ash!”

The words ripped out of me. That beautiful man, the dancer . . . the sexy, confident guy was gone. In his place was a beaten, shredded ghost. His eyes were glazed and he seemed unable to focus.

“Get out!” he croaked. Then more loudly, “Get out of here!”

My mouth dropped open . . . and I moved.

The small man shouted an order as I rammed the bathroom door open with my wheelchair and propelled myself back along the corridor as fast as I could, my heart hammering, breath coming in gasps.

I heard footsteps running behind me and I started to pray.

Please, God! Help me!

Closer, closer, and the man shouted something.

I prayed harder, my eyes wide with fear, the muscles in my arms burning as I pushed the chair faster, harder, my legs useless beneath me.

I think God listened, because my prayers were answered when I saw two people walking along the corridor towards me, their steps leisurely and unworried in the gloom.

“Well, there you are! It’s like a maze down here,” said Vanessa. “I thought I’d better come and find . . . Oh my God! What happened? Are you okay?”

“Do you need a doctor, ma’am?” asked the concerned usher who was with Vanessa.

“Help!” I screamed, my heart tripping as my lungs fought to suck in oxygen. “Those men!”

Vanessa and the usher looked up and the man who’d been sent after me hesitated.

“He’s got a gun!” Vanessa screeched. “Shit, call the police!” and with shaking hands she pulled out her phone.

The man turned and ran back in the direction of the bathroom.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Vanessa hissed. “I can’t get a signal. Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

The usher clearly agreed, already running back to the auditorium, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

Vanessa tossed her phone into my lap and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair.

“No!” I shouted desperately. “He’s hurt! We have to help him!”

“Who’s hurt?” Vanessa shouted, pushing the chair faster and faster.

“Stop!” I screamed again, but Vanessa was too scared to listen. “Stop!”

I lurched forward, throwing myself out of the wheelchair, feeling every burning joint in my body catch fire as I landed heavily on the cheap carpet.

Pain caused tears to stream down my face.

“Laney! Oh my God, Laney!”

Vanessa tried to heave me up but my dead weight was too much for her.

“Go get help,” I stuttered. “Ness! Go get help!”

Vanessa was torn, desperate to help me, desperate to get away.

“I can’t leave you!” she cried out, her voice pleading. “Help me get you up, Laney! Help me!”

My voice was sharp with pain. “No! Find someone! Quickly!”

Her face stricken, Vanessa turned and ran.

“I’m coming back!” she yelled over her shoulder.

I lay on the floor, the carpet rough against my cheek. Flashes of the horror that I’d seen made me shudder uncontrollably.

What I saw! Oh my God!

Ash’s beaten body, the thugs, the man with his cock in his hand, not a breath of sanity in his eyes, screaming at Ash.

They were going to rape him.

The ugly truth squeezed my heart and I started to cry in heaving sobs. Rage and shock and fear and pain—it was too much.

Every breath tore at my body, burning, tortured with fear and sorrow and hopelessness.

I was gasping, fighting for air as anxiety threatened to overwhelm me.

And then I felt gentle hands on my arms, on my shoulders, carefully lifting me into a sitting position.

“Are you okay?”

Ash.

His voice was hoarse and cracked, but his gaze was steady as he examined my face, his worried eyes darting to mine, along the corridor behind us, then back to me.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. “Should I help you get back in your wheelchair?”

I hiccupped, wiping the tears from my eyes and the snot from my nose as I nodded wordlessly.

Ash grunted as he took my full weight in his arms, lifting me smoothly and seating me in the chair.

I saw him wince as he moved, and I knew that helping me had caused him great pain.

I rested my shaking hand on his arm, my fingers catching in the ripped fabric of his shirt.

“Are
you
okay?” I stammered.

He swallowed and glanced over his shoulder nervously.

“We have to go. It’s not safe.”

Ash

Moving as fast as I could, ignoring the pain that sliced through me with every step, I gripped the handles of her wheelchair and ran along the corridor. I could feel the fragments of torn material pulling at the broken skin on my back and ass, blood soaking into what was left of my clothes. I was afraid to jostle the girl, aware that she was already hurting, but I had no choice. I didn’t know how long we had before Oleg came after us.

Her interruption had saved me.

I knew that if she hadn’t opened the door to that bathroom, Sergei would have plowed my ass until my backside was nothing but raw meat. He’d promised exactly that after he’d tried to fuck my mouth and I’d threatened to throw up on him again.

When Oleg had returned to say that more witnesses had arrived, Sergei had held the gun to my head, frothing with rage. But Oleg had yelled at his boss, and forced him out of the bathroom.

I couldn’t believe they’d left me alive.

Crawling on hands and knees, skin on fire, I’d pulled my torn clothes together and forced them onto my mutilated body, the pain intense.

I’d already puked once from shock, but now I had a deeper fear. This girl had seen their faces, seen what they’d done to me—which meant she was in danger.

“Where’s your room?” I hissed out, my mouth close to her hair, catching the scent of coconut.

“Go left. Room 113.”

People stared as we crossed the hotel lobby, but I ignored them all. At the girl’s door, I gently pried her purse from her shaking hands and searched through it until I found her keycard.

Once we were inside, her cell phone started to ring furiously and that seemed to shock her out of her daze. She spoke into the phone, her eyes fixed on me as I stood gazing at her warily, my breath still coming in heavy pants.

A few seconds later, I heard voices outside her room.

I peered through the peephole, hoping like fuck that it wasn’t the evil bastard.

But I recognized them from the night before.

“It’s your friends,” I whispered, the relief in my voice obvious.

“Let them in, please,” she begged, her voice breaking.

I opened the door and the two women almost fell into the room.

“Laney! Laney! Oh my God! Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” she said, tears making a lie of her words. “I’m okay.”

Laney. That was her name

“Give me my phone,” ordered the taller one, the brunette. “I’m calling the police.”

“No!” I barked, grabbing the phone from her.

They all turned to stare at me, fear as well as anger on their faces.

“You can’t call the police,” I repeated, my voice harsh. “It’s not safe.”

The brunette shook her head furiously.

“That guy had a gun! My friend was nearly assaulted and . . .”

“So was Ash,” said the girl quietly.

The brunette’s head whipped around so fast, she almost sprained her neck.

“What?”

“That’s what I saw in the bathroom,” Laney said, her voice soft. “Four men were . . . assaulting him.”

“Then we have to call the police!” the brunette cried out with frustration.

“I can’t trust the police.”

They all turned to stare at me again.

Laney bristled. “My father is a police officer! He’s the most honest man I know! How dare you . . .”

I interrupted angrily. “I can’t trust the police
here!
I can’t trust anyone!” Then I walked to the door, fixing Laney with a hard stare. “He’s seen you. You have to get out. Go to your policeman father.
Don’t stay here tonight!
”

I was going to run. I’d take my chances on the road, not stuck here like a rat in a trap.

“Wait!”

Frustrated, I turned to Laney again.

“You’re hurt,” she said, her voice softening. “We can help you.”

“Laney, we can’t get mixed up in this,” the brunette protested.

Laney stared at her friend.

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see what they were doing . . . what they were going to do. We
have
to help him.” She paused, swallowing down her fear. “Besides, I’m already mixed up in this. I saw them—like he said. And they saw me.”

The blonde frowned as she looked at me. “You’ve got blood on you,” she said, standing up and approaching. “Your clothes are soaked with blood!”

“I have to go,” I grit out. “I have to get away!”

The blonde ignored me and tugged apart the ripped shirt. All three of them gasped when they saw the bloody welts on my body.

“You’re not going anywhere like that,” the blonde said flatly. “Vanessa, get my first aid kit from our room and . . .”

“If he finds me, he’ll kill me!” I growled, pushing her hands away. “I have to go
now
.”

Laney shook her head.

“No one knows you’re here. You’ll be safe . . .”

“He
saw
you!” I shouted, frustrated that she didn’t understand the danger she was in. “He saw a girl in a wheelchair! How long do you think it will take before he finds you?”

Her eyes were wide with fear, but she shook her head.

“We have a few minutes. He doesn’t know I’m in this hotel.”

A wave of nausea made me dizzy and I had to grab the door handle to stop from falling over.

The blonde snapped her fingers.

“Vanessa, go pack up our room. Bring the bags here and hurry! Laney, do as much as you can here. And you,” she said, pointing at me, “take off the rest of your clothes.”

My face flushed with anger, but when I hesitated, she reached for the button on my pants.

I leapt back as if I’d been burned, the horrific images of Sergei doing exactly the same thing assaulting my mind.

I saw the sudden pity in the blonde’s eyes and knew that she understood. Humiliation flooded through me and I had to close my eyes.

“I’ll take care of you,” she said calmly. “I’m a registered nurse. You can use the bathroom.”