Gifted Connections 1

Chapter 1

I could see my breath in the cold night air as I exhaled. I rubbed my hands together, hoping to get some warmth back into them. I looked down disparagingly at my uniform—it barely covered anything; tiny black shorts and a halter top that showed entirely too much skin. Complete with thigh high boots, I looked more like a lady of the night than a server at a bar. I didn’t know why the owner insisted that the outside patio would remain open all year round. Even with the patio heaters on, it was cold. If the money wasn’t so good, I would have left here long ago, but it was the only place willing to hire a seventeen-year-old with no experience. I was paid under the table. I tipped out the bar at the end of the night, but the rest of the money was mine.

I tried to work at the local drug store and a clothing boutique, but the pay had been crappy, and they were strict with the child labor laws. I barely got any hours, especially when it was a school night. Here, they didn’t care. I showed up for my shifts and picked up as the extra shifts that the other girls didn’t want.

“Here you go, darlin’,” the man I was serving drawled as he handed me the cash for his tab. “The rest is all yours.”

Inwardly I cringed when I felt his hand slide up to my rear and squeeze. Outwardly I gave him a warm smile (after seeing the large tip). “Thanks have a great night,” I replied before trying to remove myself from his groping hands. He smelled heavily of alcohol and body odor.

“Now, now, darlin’. What’s the big hurry? I have plenty more where that came from.” He leered at my breasts. His stained teeth made me shudder in revulsion. “I know a pretty girl like you would love to earn some extra cash.”

“No thank you,” I said a bit crossly. I didn’t want to piss off the man and have him take back the money he had already given me. We needed groceries, and the thrift store had a new shipment of coats that I wanted to check out because Ella and I both needed new coats. “I have to get back to my other customers.”

“I can make it worth your while.” He startled me as he yanked me back. I tripped over the leg of his chair and stumbled onto his lap.

“Blake, is this man bothering you?” a cool, clipped voice asked.

I looked up, surprised, my jade green eyes met electric blue. I was shocked, to say the least, to see Mr. Bell, or Mr. Jace (his first name) as he liked to be called, standing ten feet away from me. He was dressed meticulously as always, in a buttoned-up blue shirt that hugged his tall, lean, muscular form, and black slacks and shoes. He was wearing a black pea coat and looked like he stepped off the pages of GQ magazine. He had dark hair, a tad on the longer side, and piercing eyes, and a strong square jawline. He was normally clean shaven, but now he had a five o’clock shadow. It made him look raw and powerful. All the girls had a crush on him; most had switched their elective class to music since he started teaching at my school last year. He was also my teacher.

There was a reason I chose to find a job 30 minutes away from my home. It was for reasons like this. I didn’t need anyone to know I worked at a bar. For one, I needed this job. And two, I would never be caught dressed like this in public under normal circumstances.

He was surrounded by four other men that looked like they all belonged in New York City, Paris, or Milan, walking the runways. I’ve never seen so many jaw-dropping men together at once.

“Blake?” he asked more gently.

I shook my head, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m,” I started, my voice coming out with a croak. I cleared my throat, “Fine.” I looked at my customer. “Remove your hands. Now,” I said coolly.

I could tell my patron wanted to argue, but as Mr. Jace and his friends took one step forward, he let go of me. I quickly stood up and hurried back inside, all the while hyper-aware of five pairs of eyes following me.

I was exhausted and more than ready to go home by the time my shift ended at two in the morning. I went into the bathroom and quickly counted out my tips before changing into my clothes. I felt almost back to normal as I slipped on my boot-cut jeans, long sleeve red thermal, black hoodie, and black Converse I glared at myself in the streaky mirror as I began to wash off the heavily applied makeup—my second persona washing away in the rust-stained sink. Without it, I looked my age, maybe younger. I grabbed my long, black, curly hair and threw it up in a messy bun. I was off the clock; Greg could no longer force me into his demeaning uniform or my work requirements of leaving my hair down and wearing make-up. I knew he did it for two reasons— it made me look older, and it kept the customers “happy.”

I grabbed my beat-up duffel bag and turned to leave. I checked my cell phone and noticed I had six minutes to get to the bus stop before the next bus got here. I ran out, calling my goodbyes to the bartenders and servers still drinking around the bar winding down after a long night. I didn’t want to miss the bus or I would have to wait another hour before the next one came. I wanted a little sleep before I had to be back up at 6:30. That gave me enough time to get myself and Ella dressed, fed, and walk her to school before walking to my own school.

Normally I would be hyper-aware of my surroundings, but tonight I was running behind, so I carelessly ran into the parking lot. The bar wasn’t in the best of areas; the security cameras worked when they wanted to, and half the lights were burnt out. If I had been paying attention I would have noticed my customer from earlier. Instead, I was roughly grabbed from behind and slammed into the brick wall. A hand clamped around my mouth. I tried to squirm, but I could feel that the man easily outweighed me by eighty or so pounds, and he had at least a half a foot on me.

“I wish you would have done this the easy way,” he hissed, smelling of sour beer and rotten breath. “I would have paid you handsomely and made sure you had some fun.” He groped my breast as his head dipped to kiss my neck.

I was almost in a near panic. I bit one of his meaty paws. He hissed and dropped his hand momentarily. A strange calm came over me, and I said in a deadly voice, “Let me go.”