Page 18 of Take Me to Church
“It’s not that they don’t care, it’s that they’re pussies.” Piper tips back her bowl, noisily sucking down the remaining milk. “They know an empowered woman wouldn’t fuck them, so they’ve gotta figure out how to keep them suppressed.” Her lip curls as she carries her bowl to the sink. “I’d like to give a few of them a good shot to the nut sack.”
I’d like to let her. A few in particular. “Hopefully we can get our hands on my brother and father and Matthias and make all your dreams come true.”
I keep telling myself Christian is right. Eventually they will loosen the chain they have Myra on. When that happens I know she will call me right away. Until then, I’m stuck.
Stuck waiting. Stuck worrying. Stuck feeling helpless.
I grab my purse, looping it across my chest. “I’m headed to work. I’ll see you later.”
Piper belches, wiping the back of one hand across her mouth. “Yup. I come in at six.”
My heart skips a beat as I unlock the deadbolt on the door, hating she’ll be here alone. It’s been days since the incident at The Cellar, but I almost get more anxious as time goes on, like I’m waiting for the Jack-in-the-box to spring free. “Be careful.”
I know Piper’s the more capable of the two of us, but I still worry about her. Sometimes being a little too comfortable can be just as dangerous as being unprepared. And if she ends up hurt because of my bad decisions I’ll never forgive myself.
Piper gives me a cocky grin, making it clear my concerns are not unfounded. “I’m always careful.”
I hope it’s the truth, but somehow, I doubt it.
I give her a wave before stepping out onto the stoop, closing and locking the door behind me because I don’t trust her to do it. Part of me feels like she’s almost hopeful something happens, and that’s terrifying.
I scan the parking lot of our building as I move down the cement steps, looking for any sign of the guy from the other night, but I have no clue what kind of car he might drive. So unless I see his ugly, tattooed face, I wouldn’t know if he was here or not.
All I know is it feels like someone is watching me. It’s felt that way for four days now, and I can’t shake the uncomfortable creep of awareness as it crawls across my skin. It makes me move a little faster to the door of my car. I don’t fully breathe until I’m locked inside and the engine is started, because at least in my car I can get away. I might have to plow someone down to make it happen, but I think I could do it.
Probably.
The air-conditioning blasts as I head to work, but it doesn’t even touch the sweat creeping across my hairline and making my pits sticky. Because that sweat doesn’t have anything to do with the heat. That sweat is brewed of stress and panic.
I might have grown up sheltered and naive, but I’m no longer completely clueless about how the world really is. I know Rodney meant it when he said he would see me again. I also know he’s probably enjoying that I’m losing my mind waiting for it to happen.
Unfortunately, he will just have to get in line, because I’ve got way worse things to lose my mind over. Like that I haven’t heard from my sister in over two weeks.
I check my phone as I sit at a red light, just in case a text has come through. I know it hasn’t, but I can’t stop looking. I know Myra needs me. I know she’s counting on me to get her out of there.
I can’t let her down.
The creepy feeling I’ve been living with since leaving the bar Saturday night gets stronger and I slowly set my phone down, forcing myself not to shiver as the uncomfortable sensation pulls my skin into goosebumps. I glance at the car to my right, watching the middle-aged woman behind the wheel as she sings along with her music. I let out a breath, calming down just the tiniest bit as she puts on the performance of a lifetime.
I’m overreacting. I’m letting myself get caught up the way I did when I left home. It took me months to get over the fear of my father and brother coming to get me and drag me back. But until that point, I made myself sick worrying. Waiting. Watching for any sign of the boogeyman I feared.
Just like I’m doing now.
I force myself to take a deep breath, blowing it back out as a car slides into my peripheral vision and stops to my left. I glance that way, sure I’ll see another normal person going about their normal day. But the man beside me does not look normal. His car is expensive. Black and sleek with leather interior.
But it’s not what gets my attention.
The driver behind the wheel is stunningly handsome. Dark hair, chiseled jaw, expensive dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck to reveal tanned skin.
And something else.
The dark lines of a cheap tattoo peek from his collar, standing out like a blemish against the wealth surrounding it. His eyes slowly come my way, hanging for a second. Long enough to bring on a shiver I do my best to suppress.
It would make sense the man I tried to bargain with would have money, so maybe this is someone he knows. Someone he sent out to keep an eye on me. Track my movements so when he’s ready to collect he’ll know where I am.
The light changes and the man in the car acknowledges me with a nod before pulling away.
A car horn honks behind me, making me jump in my seat. I shake my head, gripping the steering wheel as I ease my foot on the gas.
