“Well, Just Crystal, I can’t believe they left you back here all alone. It’s getting pretty late, why don’t I take you inside so you can find your friends?” He pulled Crystal out of the dark, dingy alley and into the pub. With a quick glance back, he made sure the guy he left in a heap wasn’t moving. The pub door slammed shut just before Crystal’s attacker began to roll around on the ground moaning.
I pushed off the bristly stucco and it snagged my wooly sweater; the pin pricks from pressing my body tight against the wall began to fade. I took a couple of steps out of the shadows that kept me secret. I eyed the drunken asshat on the ground as he struggled to figure out what just happened. Confused, his back was to me; his shoulders slumped, he dragged his thick black boots across the filthy ground before he struggled to his feet.
“What the hell? I’m gonna find that motherfucker and kill him and that little bitch whore too.” His voice was harsh and growly. His pants hung loose around his waist; he pulled them up as he looked around. The whites of his eyes were painted wicked scarlet red. He looked like the Devil from my childhood, himself.
I’m not a religious person. I don’t believe that there’s anything here, nothing that will save me from my own fucked up life. I was forgotten by a faith that turned its back on me and walked away simply because I didn’t pray hard enough. I was just a kid, hiding in the darkest corner of my closet, praying that God would answer my pleas and take away the rotting ache that ate away at my stomach and broke my heart. Praying until I ran out of tears, begging God to take away the shitty memories that filled my mind night after night just so I could fall asleep. Nine, ten, eleven years old, 365 days a year I prayed to God to take away my pain. I prayed for the strength to tell someone what happened to me. Begged God to protect me so no other monster would force his heaviness against me and steal another little broken piece of me away. The God everyone talks about, the same God who answers the meek and gives to the pure. Well, God, never listened to me. I guess he was busy helping someone who wasn’t damaged, or maybe I just didn’t pray hard enough.
“What the fuck are you lookin at?” drunken asshole clipped.
I froze.
Bile rose from my stomach and lapped at the back of my throat.
Shit, I didn’t want him to see me. It was too late . . . play the game, Rose.
“Well, I hope I’m looking at my next fuck. Sixty-five bucks and I’ll let you bury balls deep. Seventy-five, I’ll include a blow job.” I crawled my fingers to the bottom edge of my red skirt and pulled it up just enough before I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and methodically cocked my hip to one side.
“Are you with that skank who lured me out here just so her boyfriend could kick my ass?” he bellowed as his hands flailed out across the alley pointing to the laundromat and pub.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I answered through a snarky grin.
“Fuck that shit. I’m done with back alley whores, nasty pieces of shit, every one of you,” he spat before he turned away and limped his way down the alley.
Who in the hell was that bastard calling nasty?
Piss-soaked pants, bloodshot crimson eyes with his hair matted from fighting Shane before being choked unconscious. Let me call-‘um-like-I see-‘um, the fuck was a rat; he was a cheap rat bastard who was ready to rape a girl, simply because he felt he had the right to. It didn’t matter if she sold her pussy for money; he wanted to violate her because he could.
The door of the pub scraped open and the roar of many more drunken barflies floated and pounded across the night air violating the moment I planned on using to take a deep breath. Shane hustled back out, alone, his head down, he watched where he was going until he looked over to where he had left Crystal’s attacker and froze. Our eyes met and a chill stole my opportunity to exhale.
“Evening ma’am. You heading into the pub? Good idea to get on in, can’t be too careful out here alone.”
My voice was lodged down in my throat, the only thing I could do was nod.
He nodded in return and passed me without looking down at my body. He met my eyes long enough to tell me that he wasn’t going to hurt me, just enough time to tell me he wasn’t interested in what I was selling. He took a couple ginormous steps back to the other side of the alley and entered the laundromat.
My heart clung to the back of my throat, along with my pride. I wanted to tell him that I knew who he was. That I met him in the shadows of the alley about fifteen minutes ago when he saved Crystal. He just didn’t get the opportunity to formally meet me. It was strange that I knew his name. In fact, I knew enough about him to feel safe and comfortable around him and yet all he knew about me was that I was a woman alone in the back alley. I watched as the laundromat door swung closed behind him. He was gone and I was an object left in the dark dingy alley between the Stop and Wash Laundromat and the Iron Hog Pub.