Literally, three guys had used those exact words. These guys were as clever as they were appealing.
She needed a freakin’ break.
“Bathroom?” she yelled to Pee Wee as she walked toward the end of the bar.
Of course, he didn’t answer her with actual words, he’d not once uttered a sound her way, but he pointed a black-tipped finger toward a hallway in the far left corner of the clubhouse.
“So helpful,” she muttered under her breath. Without wasting any time, Mak kept her head down and speed-walked in the general direction Pee Wee had pointed. Or at least, she thought she did. Weaving her way through a crowded room of huge, grabby-handed drunk bikers might have veered her off course. By the time she made it to the dim hallway, Mak was dying for a shower. Literally every guy she’d passed had put his hands on her in some fashion. What the hell was with them thinking they had the right to touch any woman in any way?
Bullshit.
For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why any woman would willingly subject themselves to this life. She’d sacrificed everything to escape a scenario where she was treated like property.
The second she returned home, she’d be scrubbing off the top five layers of skin.
Five hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars.
The mantra was the only thing preventing her from turning toward the exit instead of the bathroom. Thankfully, the hallway leading to the restroom was momentarily deserted, which gave her a chance to lean against the wall and catch her breath, unobserved.
Tonight was the first and last time she’d be stepping foot in this clubhouse regardless of the cash. No amount of money was worth a repeat of fielding the disgusting comments and unwelcome groping that had been lobbed at her all night. She’d just beg Toni for extra shifts at the diner. Or maybe it was time to find a steadier second job.
As Makenna rested with her back against the wall and eyes closed, the sound of approaching male voices made her insides clench. One of them sounded like Crank, who she’d been unlucky enough to catch the eye of. If he found her alone on break, who knew what the hell he’d demand of her.
No, no, no. Her blood pressure spiked, making her dizzy as the need to flee pushed her into action.
“Shit,” she whispered before darting across the hallway into the restroom. Hopefully, she’d made it before he realized who had been hanging in the hall. With the low lighting and her forgettable outfit, she might have pulled it off.
Heart racing and head spinning, Mak pressed her palms against the closed door of the bathroom and breathed. She closed her eyes and focused on evening out her choppy breaths.
Memories of being locked in the small shed and hearing her abuser approach assaulted her. The knowledge of what would happen and the anticipation of pain had her entire body trembling. She was supposed to have gotten away.
Beneath her feet, the floor began to undulate as though an earthquake ripped through the city.
How did she end up back here, at Roger’s mercy?
She wasn’t ever supposed to endure a beating again.
She’d escaped.
No! She bit her lower lip to keep from screaming.
Never let them see your fear.
The voices grew louder, snapping her back to her reality.
It wasn’t Roger. It wasn’t her father.
I’m not at the compound. I’m in Tennessee. I’m working in the CDMC clubhouse.
She trembled, breathing as quietly as possible. She had to get control of herself in case she was discovered. If she passed out, she’d be doomed.
The men seemed to stop moving directly outside the door. Her eyes flew open to find the knob jiggling as though one of the men placed their hand on it. She jammed a fist against her open mouth to hold back the screams.
Hide!
The room spun as she turned to scramble into a stall.
On a loud gasp, her heart leaped into her throat.
Holy shit, she wasn’t in a bathroom.
“No, no, no,” she whispered so low the words barely made a sound. With her heart lodged deep in her throat, she whipped her head around in frantic jerks of her head. How the hell could she have been so stupid as to end up in some kind of office? There wasn’t anywhere to hide in the tiny room except under the desk, and she’d seen that movie. The psychotic killer discovered the girl every time.
Think. Think!
With silent steps, she backed up toward the desk, eyes glued to the door.
“You sure this is the right time to act? We finally got the cops out of our asses.” A voice she didn’t recognize had her freezing.
Mak held her breath.
Don’t open the door. Don’t open the door.
“Since when do you give a fuck about the cops, Blade?” That was Crank.
“Since I haven’t been able to take a shit without one of them joining me in the can.”