Hidden Worlds

by Kristie Cook

  “This is wrong.” Kennedy’s eyes met mine, and something deep in them made me look away.

  Ryan slipped past me into the club. “It’s not like we’re getting in for free, Ken. I paid for the tickets. We’re simply getting out of standing in line.”

  Kennedy was still watching me. “That’s not what I meant.”

  I always thought Kennedy was sensitive to people’s moods because she was an observer, but now it felt different. Could she somehow feel or sense what I could do? Kennedy finally broke her eye contact with me and frowned, walking past me into the building. “Oh yeah, tonight’s gonna be fun,” I mumbled, and followed them inside.

  ***

  About an hour into the concert, I was bored. Usually I loved watching and listening to live music, but my mood had left me restless and in need of some kind of outlet. My friends had given up asking me if I were okay and left me to wander around by myself.

  I ambled along the catwalk while the music pulsated underfoot. Through the smoky veil of fog from a machine close to the stage, I watched the smiling faces of strangers beneath me, laughing and dancing in swarms. I knew I didn’t belong with them. I didn’t belong in their world. It was as if I was watching a TV show, but I was the one who was make-believe.

  I was leaning against the railing when the hair on my arms prickled, and an unsettling feeling crept over me. Deep shadows clung to the space around me, but I could feel something there.

  “Ember,” said a familiar voice, causing me to jump. Samantha moved out from the shadows, coming closer to me.

  “Samantha?” I tried to hide the irritation in my voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “I love this band.” For some reason I felt this was anything but the truth, nor was it the reason she was really there. “Funny running into you, because I wanted to talk.” Sam’s voice was so sweet. Only from the forced smile she plastered on her lips and the cold look in her eyes did I see her true feelings.

  “What about?”

  Her unnatural smile looked more malicious. “Eli,” she began. “It looks as if you like to take things that don’t belong to you.” She stepped next to me. “Don’t think I will stand back and let it happen, especially from you.” Sam looked me up and down with blatant disgust.

  The shock of her words and the tone left me speechless.

  “I swear if I see you near him again, you and I will have more than words. And I promise you, I am not someone you want to mess with.” A cruel smile pulled her lips up. “Besides you being young, stupid, and revolting, you two do not belong together. You can never be with him. He belongs with me, one of his own. You, sweetheart, are merely a means to an end, and don’t think for a second you are more than that. Stay away from him, or I will destroy you.”

  Her tone was so serene I had to replay her words in my head again to feel the true threat.

  “You understand me?” She grabbed my jacket. At odds with her soothing voice, her sweet, beautiful face twisted into a fascinating ugliness. She was frightening and alluring in an exceptionally unearthly way. “Because I have no scruples about killing you.”

  My focus blurred, and instead of Samantha, I was staring at a beast with flaming red, cat-like eyes. Its snout looked like a cross between a wolf and a panther, with teeth as sharp as razors as its lips curled back into a snarl. A scream threatened to escape me, but as fast as this beast had appeared it vanished, leaving Samantha in its stead. Her glare was so sinister I recoiled in fear.

  “Do. You. Understand?”

  I nodded, too stunned to do anything else.

  She stepped back, patting me on the arm. “I’m glad we’ve had this talk. I feel so much better.”

  She was back to her usual pleasant sweetness, as if she had only been talking about the latest fashion, not threatening my life. She walked past me and down the stairs, leaving me stunned, my brain still not really comprehending what had transpired.

  Holy shit! Can we say unstable? Was I the only sane one around here? Well, I guess that wasn’t setting the standard very high.

  The walls felt as if they were closing in on me. I slipped downstairs and out the door, gulping in the cool night air. I couldn’t tell Ryan or Kennedy I was leaving. They would try to stop me, and I just wanted to go. I didn’t want to worry them, so I quickly texted, “Hey, sorry had to go home. Not feeling good. Don’t worry. Got a cab. Call tomorrow. Have fun.”

  The night was clear, and the moon hung low in the sky. Walking seemed to help unclutter my head. As I strolled, my fear turned to anger. How dare that bitch threaten me? She was scary and a psycho case, but I couldn’t deny the guilt I felt. Even if Sam and Eli were only “friends with benefits” and not a couple, it still didn’t make what happened between Eli and me right.

  This thought only made me walk faster, even more restless and angry with myself. I was so caught up in my thoughts I didn’t know how long I had walked or where I was.

  “Hey!” A deep, raspy voice called to me from across the street. It was the kind of voice you pictured coming from a scary, rough, chain-smoking biker. I turned my head and saw my assumption was way off. Well, he probably had a bike and was a little scary, but he was also hot. He was tall, with huge muscles, and his blonde hair was shaved close to his head. He leaned against the door jamb of what I figured to be a dive.

  My eyes flicked up to the name of the bar. A small sign blinked, “Mike’s Bar.” This was the place where Eli hung out. Was he in there now? There was no doubt this place was dangerous. It seemed to be drenched in soulless, black shadows, and Eli was a part of it.

  “Why don’t you come over here? Promise I won’t bite … yet,” the guy flirted. There was a slight southern twang in his voice.

  I couldn’t seem to help myself. I walked across the road to the sleazy bar. It had this strange pull. Maybe it was the slim, slim chance of seeing Eli, but I knew nothing would stop me from going in, no matter the consequences. That’s when I truly understood my feelings for Eli went beyond infatuation. He had already become a part of me, of my life, and I wanted to be wherever he was.

  Oh, man, I am so in trouble.

  “So, sweetheart, you gonna let me buy you a drink?” The man looked me up and down, his light brown eyes gleaming under the blinking neon lights. The power behind them was daunting. His neck was lined with scars, which I was sure had come from a knife fight of some sort. I had no doubt he had seen his fair share of them. The leer in his eyes made me nervous, but I couldn’t seem to walk away. He was a lot younger than I first thought. He was certainly good-looking, but he was a terrifying kind of trouble—bad news all around. Just the way I seemed to like them lately.

  “Sure,” I responded as my brain screamed, “No!”

  A crass smile crept across his lips as he winked. “Thought so.”

  He strutted into the bar, letting me go before him. A very gentlemanly move in such a crass place. Inside was what I pictured a disreputable dive would look like. It was dark and dilapidated with a couple of pool tables in the back, a dartboard on the side, and an old TV flickering in the corner. A heavyset man, with a stern face and balding head, stood behind the bar wiping glasses. A smoky haze told me they didn’t give a shit about the no-smoking law. The clientele didn’t look to be fans of any kind of law.

  A couple of guys in back looked to be part of the Hells Angels motorcycle gang, which should have had me walking straight out the door. But I seemed to be on a reckless mission tonight. The rest of the people in the bar were dodgy looking characters, ones who had nothing more to lose. It was not a place for a girl to go unless she was as shady and tough as the guys there. I stood out like a beacon, just asking for trouble.

  Knowing this still didn’t make me run for the door. Something kept me in the bar, with a strange man. Was it because I was attracted to danger, or was it because something about this guy reminded me of Eli? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t seem to leave and didn’t want to. This guy made me feel like I could forget all my pain. I was putting
myself in a very, very dangerous position, but a part of me liked it. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “What’s your poison, darlin’?” The guy’s eyes ran over my body again.

  “Tequila,” I responded.

  “You don’t fool around.” His eyebrows shot up. “I like that.” He turned back around to the bartender. “Hey, Mike, two shots of tequila and a beer.”

  While he ordered, I noticed everyone in the entire room was staring at me. The two guys by the pool table had stopped their game and leaned against the table, looking like I could be their next snack. One of the guys, who struck me as the leader of the two, was short and fat with long, graying, frizzy black hair tied back into a ponytail. He had bulging eyes and a nose which looked like it had been broken several times. He reminded me of an ugly pug dog. The other guy was his polar opposite—tall, skinny, and bald. He was extremely frightening to look at, with his hooknose and pockmarked face. I turned my head quickly back to the bar, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone else.

  “Here you go, girlie.” Mike pushed a huge shot of tequila at me.

  I guess good ol’ Mike didn’t care about the underage drinking law either. The guy and I slammed the shots back, and I almost choked as it burned my throat. It tasted more like battery acid, and by the looks of this place, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

  “Wooo-hooo,” he screamed, his eyes dancing. “Feel the burn.” The cheap alcohol immediately went to my head. He leaned against the bar, looking at me intensely. His eyes moved up and down my body hungrily. “Damn,” he mumbled, seeming to like what he saw. I went from feeling tough and sexy in my outfit to feeling naked and exposed. “So, you have a name, darlin’?” His southern drawl was becoming more pronounced.

  “Ember,” I said, without thinking. I should have lied. From the way he looked at me, though, I had this feeling deep in the pit of my stomach he already knew my name before I even said it.

  “Well, Ember, you are a pretty girl. You got some unique eyes there.”

  “Umm … thanks.”

  “Hey,” one of the bikers called from the back. “You gonna bring that sweet, young thing over here?”

  “Sorry, boys, but I’m really not into sharing.” He didn’t even turn to answer them. I don’t know why, but my gut was telling me I was somewhat safer with him, even though my brain was saying something different. “See, darlin’, there are some disreputable characters here. This really isn’t a place for pretty, young girls like you.” He looked like he was undressing me with his eyes.

  “I’d say it’s even less my scene since I’m not legally supposed to be here. For some reason, I’m sensing the law is overlooked quite a bit here, and I’ve never been one to really follow the rules anyway.”

  “Think we got ourselves a wild cat here.” A lewd smile played on his lips. “You are an intriguing one, sweetheart, definitely my type. I can see now what the fuss is about. You have a boyfriend, darlin’?”

  “I do,” I lied, but Eli’s image came into my mind. I rubbed my forehead, as if it would wipe away the vision.

  “How would he feel about you being here with me?”

  “He’d be absolutely thrilled. He was so worried I wouldn’t fit in around here and now look at me, making new friends.”

  He almost spit out the beer he had swigged. “Oh man, you’re a feisty thing, aren’t you?” He licked his lips. “Not that I expected any different from my boy,” he mumbled.

  “Expected what from whom?” My eyes narrowed. A strange feeling danced through me, as if I wasn’t as much of a stranger to him as he was to me.

  “Hey, Mike, two more shots,” he said, ignoring my question. “I don’t suppose you know how to play pool, do you?”

  “Uhhh … a little,” I replied. Mom had never really cared for the game, but Mark loved it. At a young age, Mark taught me pool so he would have someone to play with. I was good, but not great. In a place like this, I’d rather talk down my skill.

  I cringed as he pushed another shot at me. I wasn’t feeling the effects like I thought I would so I slammed this one back without hesitation. The ache in my heart was not numb enough.

  He started to turn and head to the back when I realized I never asked his name. How odd. “So, what’s your name?” I demanded. This was a place you didn’t show weakness or fear.

  He turned and smiled. “Let’s make a little wager here. If you win, I will tell you my name. If I do, you will dump your man and run away with me.”

  “Funny, I don’t see any real win in there for me.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He smiled seductively, his huge hand sliding around my wrist with force. A warning chill flickered through me. This guy was solid muscle and could snap my arm like a twig.

  I stumbled as he led me to the back. “Stop pulling me.” I yanked my arm back, making him stop.

  “Hey, West, looks like you can’t handle your woman there. Why don’t you let me take her off your hands?” The short, fat biker licked his lips, making my gag reflex kick in. “Woo-wee, she is a pretty, young thing. Ripe for the pickin’.”

  “I don’t think so, McNamm. I don’t share my toys,” West replied.

  McNamm stood up and approached us. Even though he was a foot or so shorter than West, he still tried to get in his face. “Well, your mamma don’t raise you right then. Thinkin’ about time you learn.”

  “I suggest you take a step back,” West growled, his voice sounding extremely familiar, weirdly reminding me of Eli’s. “She’s mine.” The possessiveness of his tone made me panic. To him I was no longer a person, merely a piece of meat.

  The tall, scarred Hells Angel sensed something was going to happen and stepped up beside his buddy. “Don’t be stupid, West. Thinkin’ you better back off.”

  “Really, Pock? I think it’s you two who are being stupid. But you guys were never the brightest bulbs in the pack.”

  McNamm was seething. Two against one and I was the prize. I looked over my shoulder at the door. As soon as I thought about escape, I felt West’s hand tighten around my wrist. The gaze from his light brown eyes burrowed deep into mine. Something about him made me no longer feel like fleeing. His hand slid over my shoulder and slipped in between the collar of my jacket to grab my neck. I knew he was doing it to display ownership of his property—me—for Pock’s and McNamm’s sake, showing they needed to back off. I still hated it. I was not someone who liked being treated as property or being told what to do in any way.

  Anger sprouted within me as I pulled away. His fingers lost their grip as they skidded across my neck, grazing my tattoo, sending a vibration through the ink. West’s hand jerked back like he’d been stung, his eyes widening as he looked at me and down at his hand. He quickly controlled his reaction. His face returned to neutral as turned back to McNamm. We weren’t given the opportunity to dwell on what just happened as McNamm stepped forward and poked West’s chest. “So, dumbass, what’s it gonna be? We wanna chance to play with her, or we do be takin’ her from you.”

  West’s huge frame moved quicker than I thought possible. He punched McNamm in the face and sent him flying until he smashed into the pool table. Pock pulled out a knife and jumped on West, knocking me down to the ground with them. My head smacked hard on the solid floor.

  In the distance, the bartender screamed for the fight to stop, but it was past that. West and Pock rolled on the floor, grunting as they punched and shoved each other. Blood flew out their noses. A gnarled roar tore from West’s lips as Pock’s knife buried into West’s gut, blood squirting out of the wound. It only distracted him for a moment before he pounced on Pock again.

  I knew this was my best chance for escape, and now I wanted nothing more than to get out of there. I dizzily picked myself up and wobbled toward the door, running into every chair and table on the way. I was halfway to the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder, throwing me once more to the floor.

  “Where’d you think you’re goin’?” McNamm sneered. The smell of w
hiskey and beer was on his breath as he climbed on top of me. He grabbed my wrists with one hand, keeping me from hitting or slapping him.

  Terror grew like weeds and wrapped around my lungs. “Get off me!”

  “Shhh … you’ll have a good time with me. If not, I know I sure will. I’m bettin’ you’re pure as the driven snow. This is gonna be a treat.”

  Fear engulfed me as I struggled against him. My panic was rising so high I almost didn’t notice the deep tug of power inside me. Lights in the bar flickered. The light bulb above my head sputtered and splintered. Shards of glass flew down on McNamm. “What the hell?” He twisted and looked up, grinding himself against me harder. A guttural cry escaped me. My hands flailed wildly, slapping at his face.

  “Oh, you like it rough?” He sneered as my nails made contact with his cheek. “You lil’ bitch.” A burst of pain swept across the side of my head as he hit me. Black dots spun across in my vision. My swollen face pounded with sharp pain. He moved for my pants, pulling down the zipper. I stiffened.

  A light popped across the room, reminding me what I was capable of. I forced all my emotion from my body. The rest of the lights, the bottles, and the TV exploded, sending glass flying across the bar. I heard screams and chairs being moved as people dove under the tables. It rained glass, but the sparks were directed straight at McNamm, making him dive off me to find shelter.

  Out of nowhere, West came flying down on McNamm, both of them crashing into the wall, sending cue sticks scattering over the floor. I scrambled to get one, but Pock jumped on my back, slamming my face into the dirty floor as he pushed all his weight down on top of me. Tiny bits of broken glass cut into my cheek, spilling the warmth of oozing blood.

  “I get my turn, too.” He leaned down. “Hmmm … you smell good.” His scratchy voice prickled at my ear, making my heart pound with dread. He moved and twisted so he could pin me down better.

  Then I saw a cue stick several feet from me.

  Occupied with getting under my layers of clothes, Pock’s hand shoved into my jeans, rubbing my lower back before he shoved his fingers down farther. Through my jeans, I could feel his excitement poking into me. My chest heaved and chilled as cold fear dripped into every vein of my body.