"Are we done here?"
"Sure."
I saw the look they exchanged, and stalked off to the changing room.
***
I walked out from the dressing room, relieved that both of them had gone. Seeing Ivan every fucking day was too much; I couldn’t cope anymore. The way he looked at me with that smug little smile made me furious. I so badly wanted to walk over to him and punch him in the balls, just to wipe that expression off his disgusting little face. Everything about him made me sick.
Shit. My jacket. I raced back into the dressing room to retrieve it. Pulling it on, my mind was still in overdrive. A noise directly behind me scared the hell out of me. I spun around and came face-to-face with Ivan.
“What the fuck was that scene out there, Bethy?” he snarled, obviously angry about my little outburst.
“I don’t know what you mean. I was just suggesting—”
“Well, don’t.” He took a step toward me, his eyes traveling over my breasts.
I shivered, both scared and nervous at his close proximity to me. I leveled my eyes at him, my expression cool. I refuse to let him see how terrified I am of him.
"Can you at least try to be professional when you're at work, honey?"
I turned around, my eyes wide as Ivan confronted me in the changing room. Immediately, my eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape. My hands curled into balls as they hung beside me, ready to react if I needed them to.
"What do you want? You shouldn't be in here." What if I'd been changing? I shuddered at the thought of him seeing any more of my body than he already had.
"That's the thing, darling: I can go anywhere I want. I thought you would've learned that by now." His eyes laughed at me as I stood there, struggling to stay in control.
I glared at him, my expression stony. Inside was a crying mess. "Just leave it, Ivan. Just leave me alone," I muttered, swallowing hard. Is Sam still here? I’d thought Ivan had gone, and he hadn’t. What were the chances? Would he hear me if I screamed?
"I won’t fucking leave you alone. You do as I say, you hear me? If I ask you to get down on your knees and fucking beg, then that's what you do. Understand?"
I blinked back tears. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold off the flood of emotion that was waiting to pour out of me, but I damn sure wasn't going to cry in front of him.
"Whatever," I muttered. "I just thought—"
“Well, don’t. You not here to think—thank fucking Christ for that. We’d all be in the shit if we were dependent on your little mind.” He laughed, as if his joke was actually funny.
I scowled at him, my body shaking as I fought hard not to react. Because that's what he wanted. He wanted to see that he was getting to me.
His demeanor changed, and he smiled. “Bethy, you need to relax. Maybe you need to have a little more fun? I’d be happy to help you out with that. It worked so well the last time, you know,” he said, his hand reaching for a loose strand of hair that had fallen across my face.
I ducked back, my heart racing. I wanted to scream.
He wasn’t going to touch me ever again.
Picking up my bag, I pushed past him, hurling him into the bench near the lockers. I raced for the door, not checking behind me to see if he was following. I just needed to get out of there.
Walk. Just keep walking. Walk until he can't get to you anymore. Do not let him get to you.
It was easier said than done; Ivan got to me on a daily basis. As I pushed my way through the door and outside, his voice echoed through the studio.
“Don’t forget, honey, I know where you live. Maybe I’ll drop by and say hello.”
That sick fuck. Was that an empty threat, or was he really planning on coming after me again? I didn't want to find out.
***
By the time I arrived home, the panic had subsided, but I wasn't ready to be alone. I weighed up my options: I could either call Roman, or I could call Roman. I turned my bag inside out looking for my phone, finally locating it at the very bottom. I scrolled through my contacts until his name showed up. Hitting call, I waited for him to answer. Or not answer. Panic rose inside me. What if he didn't answer? I couldn't stay there alone, not right then. If I did, I'd lose my mind.