Page 4 of Debts and Desires
My first real performance was over and I realized I loved being able to share my music with people. To know that they understood what I was feeling, what I was putting into eachword. By the end of the night, I was exhausted. I thanked everyone again before heading backstage.
As my worn-out fingers gently cradled my guitar, putting it in its case, Tyler approached me.
“You were awesome!” he exclaimed.
“Thanks,” I beamed.
“Was that really your first time performin’?” he inquired.
“Technically,” I confirmed, a touch of pride lacing my voice.
“Damn, I would’ve never guessed. You’re incredibly talented,” he praised, surprise coloring his words. He noticed my guitar case. “You leavin’ already?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a long drive ahead,” I lied. Instead, I was planning on sleeping in the parking lot until the morning when the inn was open. Then I remembered my lack of funds thanks to Mia’s boyfriend, Ian stealing my money. I wanted to ask Tyler about performing again so that I could make a little more money before heading to Austin. He spoke before I could.
“Well, I won’t keep ya then. Let me go grab your pay.”
As he headed back, I picked up my duffle and purse. My keys fell, which was weird. I swore I’d put them in my bag, not on top. After my issue with Ian, my heart dropped, afraid someone else stole that little bit I had left. It would be my fault, leaving my purse out in the open like that. Even if we were alone back here. I had been too preoccupied with getting on stage. I sighed. I was just tired. That had to be the reason for my nervousness. Who would come back here and mess with my purse? I decided that I had probably sat them weird. Tyler returned with a wad of cash, handing it to me.
“Here you go. Two hundred.”
“Oh, I thought you said one fifty,” I asked with confusion. He chuckled.
“I did. But there were a couple people that left some tips for ya,” he explained. My smile widened, gratitude washing over me. “And if ya ever want to play again, you let me know.”
I nodded appreciatively. Despite wanting it moments ago, itdidn’t seem like the right time to bring it up. Tomorrow, however, was a different story. “I will. Thank you.”
Sooner than you think.
“All right,” he said, extending his hand for a farewell shake. I took his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Emmy.”
“You, too. Thanks,” I responded. Tyler led me to the door, closing it behind me with a, “Be safe.” I started toward the parking lot.
A rustling sound had me pausing after a few steps. I glanced around, my smile fading. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched again. It was a familiar energy, reminiscent of the moment I first stepped onto the stage. The distant light in the parking lot cast eerie shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere hung heavy, the darkness wrapping around me like a suffocating cloak. A shiver ran down my spine. The alleyway suddenly felt like a forgotten realm, untouched by the warmth of human presence.
“Hello?” I called.
Grab your pepper spray,I thought, but as my hands searched, I realized it wasn’t in there. Neither was my taser. Had someone messed with my belongings, after all? Or had I forgotten to put it in again? Was Ian messing with me? I listened to my surroundings, not hearing anything.There’s no one. Just get to the car.
Each step I forced myself to take echoed, reverberating off the cold, damp walls. I had just passed the rusted dumpster, almost out of the alleyway.
A force moved me, my chest colliding with the cold, unforgiving brick wall to my right. I lost my grip on my guitar and it hit the ground with a dull thud. A solid object pressed against my ribs, and dread coursed through my veins.
“P-please don’t shoot me,” I begged. Fear tightened its grip around my heart, making each breath a struggle. My shaking hands were pinned, trapped between my body and the unyielding surface, rendering them useless. The wall was biting into my left cheek, forced to look back the way I came.
“Gimme your purse,” a low, menacing voice commanded, itsgrowl echoing in the darkness. I whimpered in compliance. The stranger’s hand snatched the strap, yanking it from my arm with a force that scraped my skin against the rough wall.
“Phone,” he demanded, his voice dripping with aggression.
“J-jacket pocket,” I managed to utter, my voice betraying my trembling state. His touch, as he slipped his fingers into my empty pocket, sent shivers down my spine, my cheeks reddening at the intimate contact. He quickly retrieved my phone from the other pocket, his proximity unnerving me as his nose brushed against my ear. I realized that with him this close I could smell him. The smell of oranges and something metallic drifted around me. Then he inhaled, his hand gripped my hip as he pushed into me more.
Did he just smell me?!
“You’re gonna count to thirty before you turn around,” he said, pressing the gun harder into my ribs. His voice was so low and deep that I barely understood. “Turn around before that and I’ll shoot. Understand?” I nodded, my throat constricting, tears pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, desperately trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “Good,” he muttered, his oppressive weight relinquishing its grip. “Start countin’ out loud.”
“One,” I began, my voice quivering. “Two… Three…”
As the numbers rolled off my tongue, I strained to listen for any sound, any indication that I was no longer in danger. At fifteen, a silence enveloped the alleyway. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, I cautiously turned around, my eyes scanning the desolate surroundings.
