We have a deal
1876 Words
The bass hit my ribs like a second heartbeat. Neon spilled across the floor, pink on one side, electric blue on the other. I pushed through bodies that smelled like perfume and sweat, my cheeks tight with dried tears and mascara that had given up on me. I wasn’t here to be seen. I was here to forget.
I slid onto a barstool and planted my elbows on sticky wood. “Something strong,” I murmured to the bartender. My voice sounded like I slept on sandpaper.
He poured. I drank. It burned, then boom. I chased it with another because the first one only blurred the edges. I wanted the centre gone too.
By the third, the room had begun to soften. Laughter glinted like glass. Ice clinked. A woman in sequins threw her head back and kissed a man who looked like he had never had a bad day. I stared until my eyes stung, then looked away because envy tasted worse than cheap liquor.
I felt a presence beside me. “Hey there, beautiful.” I turned only to be greeted by the most obnoxious-looking man I had ever set my eyes on. He looked like he was too old to be in a club, but then, who was I to judge?
“Buzz off, loser,” I said and turned, and surprisingly, he left me alone. I continued to down my shots in peace, humming to the feeling of my own despair.
I felt it before I saw him. A pull in the corner of the room, like I was being watched. I scanned the club, hoping to find the culprit, even though I was partially convinced that I was drunk and it was all in my head.
But just then, my eyes caught a pair of daunting dark eyes. On the level above mine, a man leaned on the rails, carefully watching me like a hawk. His suit was sharp and fitted like it was sewn onto his body. Dark hair. Clean lines. The way his watch caught the light and threw it back with attitude and the aura of darkness that surrounded him told me that he was a rich asshole.
He smirked and walked back to sit in the raised booths behind a velvet rope. One of the other men in the booth yapped on about something while he listened without blinking or breaking eye contact with me. His mouth was drawn in a straight line, but I could see mischief hidden behind his features.
Something about him calms the room and makes it dangerous at the same time. I should turn away. I lift my glass instead, and I watch him say one sentence. It lands like a stamp. The other men exhale, relieved and greedy. They shook his hand as if touching him might make them better people. He was definitely a cutthroat businessman.
He was the perfect target. I will lose my virginity to that man tonight, just like I had planned to with Mike, who turned out to be a major asshole. The stranger mirrored my darkness and despair, and he looked like a walking s*x god. He would certainly give me a pleasurable night.
I was drunk enough to move before properly thinking. My stool scraped the floor loudly, and the bartender raised a brow like he had seen this movie and knew it ended badly. I smiled and wobbled my way to the rope.
The bouncer stepped in front of me. Broad chest. No humour. “Private section.”
I blinked at him. “I know. I am the privacy.”
He didn’t laugh or move, and I frowned at his resistance, about to cause a scene. To my greatest surprise, the stranger lifted his gaze, and the bouncer looked back, waiting. A tiny nod from him, and then the rope was lifted. I stepped through on shaky legs and tried to look like a person who belonged in the velvet light.
He watched me as I approached. No expression on his face, just waiting patiently.
“Hi,” I said. My voice sounded more confident than I felt. I tacked on a smile that felt like a chore. “Are you really this hot, or is it just very expensive lighting?”
One corner of his mouth tilted. “Depends on who is asking.”
The two men beside him glanced between us, confused about the new agenda. He didn’t break eye contact with me as he gestured to the empty seat across from him. “Sit.”
I sat down. My knees bumped the table, and the shot glass in my hand spilled some of its contents on the polished surface. I try to hide it with my palm. Too late.
He signals to a server without looking. Water appeared in front of me, and the waiter cleaned up my mess. “Start with that.”
“I already started.” I take a sip anyway. The water is cold as it hushed the fire in my throat.
“Everyone, get out.” The men and the waiter scurried away in fear, leaving me and the handsome man in a faceoff.
“I am trying to drown a man.”
“That ever work for you?” He pointed at the alcohol in my hand.
“First attempt.” I down another shot in one go. I want to be impressive, so I am going to be honest. “He got my best friend pregnant.”
The man across from me did not look surprised at all, while I was still surprised at the fact, even though it happened to me. He studied my face the way people read a map, like all the roads were already drawn and he only needed to choose one.
“What is your name?” he asks.
“Diora.”
“Diora.” He rolled it on his tongue once, testing the sound. “Are you here alone?”
“Yes. No. I came with humiliation. We are very close.”
The corner of his mouth lifted again. He signalled to one of the men standing guard nearby and said something that I couldn’t make out. They gather all the papers on the table and exit the area completely.
I sat straighter. “Did I interrupt something important?”
“No.”
“Sad. I would have been proud to.”
He let out a soft sound that may almost be a laugh. “You are drunk.”
“I am efficient. There is a difference.” I tap the rim of my glass. It taps back. “Why are you doing business in a club?”
“Because people talk more when the music is loud.” His gaze flicked to my ruined mascara, then back to my eyes. “What did you drink?”
“Whatever numbs. Whiskey. Tequila. I would drink nail polish if it came with a lime.”
“Do not,” he said. “You will die.”
“Whatever.” He observes me for a while without uttering a word. “You’re drinking like the world is coming to an end. It’s not.” He commented casually to my annoyance.
“Well, mine just did.” I set my glass down as my hands began to shake slightly. Weird. I pressed them flat to the table. “He told me I was boring. That I am not pretty enough to keep a man interested. Then he called me dramatic and zipped up his pants like he was bored with the conversation.”
“He never said sorry. He never told me I looked beautiful. He always looked at me like I was a problem. And yet, I stayed for three years. So foolish.” The stranger stared at me intently, his piercing grey eyes reaching the depths of my soul.
“What do you want right now?”
There are a thousand answers. Food. A hug. An apartment that is mine. A time machine. My voice chooses the reckless one. “I want to forget I ever knew him.”
“That is a big ask.”
“Maybe you could help me out a little.” I leaned in. “Do you ever do stupid things?”
“I am very good at not doing them.” Typical.
“That sounds lonely.”
“Sometimes.” He reaches forward and refills my empty glass with water. “How old are you, Diora?”
“Twenty-four.” He nodded.
“Hmm. Twenty-four and still stupid enough to be drugged.” Did this asshole just call me stupid?
“Excuse me?”
“That man roofied you. It will soon kick in.” I looked at him like he had two heads.
“What???” He turned to look at someone, and I followed his gaze.
“You are so carefree and stupid that you turned away from a man and left your drink exposed. He slipped a pill in your drink when you weren’t looking. He and his friends were waiting around for the effects to kick in. They would probably have taken their turns with you.” I blinked back in fear. Truly, I could see the old, creepy man from earlier glancing back and forth between some men and at me. Did he truly drug me? Oh my gosh.
“Well, lucky for me, I have you.” I smiled at him, but he looked unimpressed.
“No, you don’t.” My brows furrowed in confusion.
“What do you mean?” Panic surged through my bones. Was he really going to leave me here for those predators?
“I came her to seal a deal, which I have successfully done. I have no other business here and would be taking my leave now. Also, I don’t take girls home so you can sort yourself out.”
I went into full on panic mode. What did he mean he was leaving me?
“Please, you can’t leave me here alone. I won’t survive it.” I begged with what was left sober in me. My body started to tingle all over, and I suddenly felt hot.
“Do you have anyone to call?” He asked me, but I could barely make out his words.
“My…my…parents….are….d…d..dead. No one….alone.” I managed to drawl out.
He nodded in understanding, as if he expected it.
“Stand up,” he says.
I blinked, trying to make sense of the situation.
I stood up, but it almost felt like I was flying. The room tips and rights itself severally. He came around the table. He was a lot taller than me up close and colder. Not cold like unkind. Cold like a lake at midnight. He took his jacket off and set it over my shoulders. It smelled like clean soap and expensive cologne.
“I will go with you on only one condition.” He said while holding me steady.
“Wha…what are you…whattt? I….a…agree. Yes. Pl…please, help me.” I was sweating profusely, and my clothes felt like they were chewing on my skin.
“Good. We have a deal. There’s no going back now.”
- Writer
