Lie (Betrothed 8)

There was a long line for the bathroom, even though most of the girls probably just wanted to fix their hair and touch up their makeup, but that could take longer than a piss.

So I went to the men’s room instead.

What? I didn’t care.

I walked past the urinals with my hand covering one side of my face. “Don’t worry, not looking.” I headed to the stall and locked the door behind me.

The guy standing at the urinal finished and flushed. “You’re welcome to take a peek, sweetheart.” His accent was distinctly Russian, distinctly creepy.

I sat on the tissue paper that lined the toilet and released my bladder, the sound of my urine filling the bowl while we spoke. I stuck my finger into my throat like I was gagging even though he couldn’t see me. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

He turned on the faucet and washed his hands.

I finished my business and flushed before I stepped out of the stall and headed to the sink.

The guy was still there, leaning against the wall, his knee bent with his foot propped against the tile. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, and he stared at me with a menacing expression, as if he owned me when he didn’t even know my name. It wasn’t the focused intensity Heath displayed—or maybe it was exactly the same, but that man was actually sexy. This guy was sleazy-looking.

I washed my hands and glanced at him in the mirror. “Do you mind?”

“You’re the one who came in here.”

“To piss. I come in peace.”

“Well, I’m not breaking any rules by staying in the men’s room. If you can look at my dick, why can’t I look at you?”

I grabbed a few paper towels and dried my hands. “Look all you want. Just don’t touch.” I tossed the moist towels into the garbage then turned around to leave.

But he blocked my way.

He had bushy eyebrows, a crooked nose, and brown eyes that almost looked black. He was in a long-sleeved shirt even though it was way too hot to wear something like that. His hands were no longer in his pockets, but instead by his sides, as if he expected to fight me. “What’s your name?”

Now this was getting weird. “None of your business.” I moved around him then headed to the door.

He took a few steps back then turned the lock so it bolted the door shut.

Now, I was scared, but mostly pissed. “All I have to do is scream.”

“And then what? By the time they get here, I’ll be finished.”

Both of my hands went to my hips. “Did you just threaten to rape me in a men’s bathroom?” I wanted to be absolutely sure this wasn’t a terrible attempt to impress me, that this guy wasn’t trying to be romantic but simply didn’t know how.

“That depends on you, I suppose.” He started to move toward me.

He’d just fucked with the wrong bitch. I pretended I was gonna kick him between the legs so he would throw his arm down to block me and move out of the way, but instead, I slammed my right fist hard into his face.

It was hard enough to make him stagger back against gets the wall. He rubbed his face and looked shocked at the impact, as if he’d never been hit like that in his life.

Since this guy had clearly stated he intended to force me into sex, I didn’t let him off easy. I kicked him in the side, slammed the heel of my shoe into his gut, and even pressed my foot into his balls.

“You fucking bitch.” He tried to kick me off.

I kicked him right in the face, making him sink to the floor and free the access to the door. “Enjoy prison.” I unlocked the door and walked out. I headed straight to the bar and spoke to the first person I saw. I got right to the point. “A guy tried to rape me in the bathroom. Call the cops.”

I had to stay for a few hours to deal with the police, give my statement, and watch them put handcuffs on his wrists and take him away.

I could tell who the rest of his party was, because they stayed and watched the whole thing, giving me harassing looks like I was the asshole. They looked just as shady as he did, watching me like I was inferior to them.

I flipped them off before I walked out.

I would normally walk to my apartment, but I thought it was better to get a cab. I’d fought him off, handed him over to the police where he belonged, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t rattled by what just happened.

I was human.

When I walked into my apartment, I made sure the door was locked before I washed off my makeup and went to bed. Once I was under the sheets and comfortable, I stopped thinking about what had happened and drifted off to sleep immediately.