by M. C. Cerny
The pain that slammed into my middle caught me off guard as did the pull on my hair. “Bitch!” Rough hands dragged me away from the sidewalk in between two buildings before I remembered to struggle, kicking out.
“No!”
A resounding slap hit my cheek and burned the skin from the cold. Thick arms grabbed me around the middle and pulled me back before my fight or flight response kicked in. Helpless, I screamed before his dirty hand covered my mouth to silence me.
“Quiet or I’ll hurt you.” Words didn’t register, but my dreams of dancing under hot, bright lights and Joey’s face flashed in my head like fleeting thoughts. The threat of my attacker doing something worse and leaving me here in the alley spurred me on to fight against him as if grasping onto those visions would make them true. He slapped me, hit me, and my body was tossed hard against the brick facade, jarring my body.
“No! Help!”
He came at me again, this time pushing me to the ground, my knee hitting hard and my stockings ripping. Everything hurt. A green city dumpster was behind me on black asphalt, the stench tempered by the wind and temperature of the night.
I crawled back, tripping over my damn legs; the most ungraceful I’d ever been in my life. He stood over me, wearing all black and a cotton face mask that hid his identity.
“Leave her alone.” It was Mr. Walker, the homeless man who’d come to my rescue holding something in his hand, a pipe maybe or a board, I couldn’t tell.
“Or what, old man?”
“I’ve killed plenty in my lifetime. Yours wouldn’t bother me.” The pregnant pause that followed stopped my heart. My attacker spat at me and took off running. I scrambled to get up and out of the alley. Grime was imbedded in my palms and my knee felt unsteady and swollen.
My face hurt in the cold wind. In fact, everything hurt. Tears threatened, but the shock was worse. “I can’t believe this happened.” Scared I wanted nothing more than to pack up and flee. I couldn’t afford a place in a better neighborhood until I turned my audition into a paying job.
“Let’s get you home, Miss Tempest.” Mr. Walker escorted me to my apartment and helped me walk up the stairs. I sat down at my dinette table, and he puttered around my kitchen, heating up water on my hotplate for tea.
“Thank you, Mr. Walker.”
“It was no trouble.” He said that now, but I didn’t doubt that Mr. Walker would have hit that man attacking me. “Let’s get you cleaned up and settled.”
The sweet hot tea kept me from shaking and I managed to wash out my cuts decently, taking a pain reliever to help.
“You be careful walking home, Miss Tempest.” Mr. Walker left, telling me to lock up my door.
I peeked through my window and watched him bunker down near my building sheltered from the wind, watching, waiting. I didn’t realize how foolishly optimistic I had been until it was almost snatched away from me.
I didn’t go to my audition the next day, or work for the following week. My face was bruised, my knee swollen and immobile. I called Chuck, begging my boss to give me diner shifts during the day. Standing and bearing weight on my leg took longer than planned before I could carry heavy trays of food without dropping them. I was avoiding Officer Hernandez and life altogether. My dreams were dashed by the irrational fear of something happening after dark, and when a month had passed, my landlord placed a notice in my box, letting me know I was behind on my rent and could be evicted if I didn’t catch up soon.
Anxiety coursed through me nonstop and I was lucky I didn’t turn into someone completely homebound by the event. I was barely scratching out an existence, terrified of the shadows no one else could understand. I thought about going to the police station to report it, but by the time I gathered my wits, I was embarrassed. I couldn’t stomach Joey Hernandez taking my statement or assessing me with his dark eyes in pity. Mr. Walker and I talked about it several times, debating between his bouts of lucidity. I hadn’t been raped. Nothing had been stolen. I was roughed up by a punk walking home in the wee hours of the morning with my only witness a homeless man who suffered from schizophrenia when he wasn’t on his medications.
“Tempest, you got a minute?” I filled up the counter mugs with coffee, turning to see Denise handing Chuck a lunch ticket. She was one of the other waitresses that split the morning shift with me.
“Sure.” Nervously, I wiped my hands against my skirt.
“I, uh, heard you had a problem a few weeks ago.” Denise raised her dark eyebrows, and I glanced back at Chuck, pissed he would tell anyone my business.
“Some. I’m okay, though.” Gritting my teeth, I smiled for show.
“Look, I know the lunch crowd around here doesn’t tip for shit, and I know you’re a dancer and all.”
I was a dancer. I used to be happy. Heck, I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t going to clarify that when I barely got the swing back into my hips.
“I’ll manage.”
Chuck dinged the bell, and I went to collect my plate for a counter customer, glad it wasn’t a large tray of heavy food I still couldn’t handle on my own.
“Here.” Denise ripped off a ticket from her waitressing book, handing it to me.
“What’s this?” Flipping it over, I saw that she scribbled the number to a place called Dollhouse. I’d heard vague rumors about it from my auditions. It was a place girls who didn’t make it sometimes went to earn quick cash. I shivered.
“Listen, sometimes the money gets tight and dancing a few hours on a Saturday night makes up for the coffee stains and sticky counters. Take it or leave it.” She brushed past me, setting her plates down at a table of construction workers on break.
I thought about it, slipping the paper into my apron. I wanted to fix my own problems without having to run away. I wanted to dance again when the fear stopped controlling me. Attempting to rip the Band-Aid off my warring anxiety, I decided to call on my break and see what all the fuss was about.
3
Joey
“Joey, come on, we’re gonna be late!” My brother grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pushed me out the door to the waiting rented SUV he conned me into driving for the night. The air was crisp, waiting to snow, and it was the Saturday before Thanksgiving, as close to amateur night as we could get for this bachelor party.
“Relax, papi.” I shrugged him off and slid inside checking my mirrors before pulling out onto the roadway.
My brother Emmanuel tried passing me an open container of alcohol. “Don’t be an idiot, Manny.” I pushed it back glaring at him. He shrugged in that annoying way older brothers do before capping the top. I wasn’t about to get in trouble for anyone tonight.
“We just have to grab Julio, Brendan, and Orson.” My brother smiled. This was all his idea to go to some seedy strip joint for Julio’s bachelor party. I was just the tagalong driver, taking off my usual nightshift for this. I figured Hudson owed me and part of me was happy to hear the chief chew his ass out after the past few weeks. Honestly, I would have preferred to be working instead of being the designated babysitter for my brother’s friends, but here we were.
A night of drinking, gambling, and women would have been fun, but I had to put up with these guys in exchange. I loved my brother, but I couldn’t afford to get caught up in shit given my job, which I valued above all else.
We headed to a shithole area of the neighborhood and met up with some other guys who were invited to the wedding. There were a lot of bro hugs and drinks poured from the bar. Emmanuel was already two drinks ahead of me and pounding down a third.
“Hey, Manny, take it easy, or are you planning on going home early? Mami give you a curfew?”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, Joey.”
We teased each other and ordered some shots for Julio, who was currently draped over two scantily clad women wearing cheap stilettos and thongs.
“How’s work going for you?”
We leaned over the bar, and I contemplated what I might say. Manny wanted to know about t
he fun stuff, but that wasn’t why I did the job.
“I like it. My chief is a good guy. My lieutenant is an asshole, but someone has to be. It’s more than just writing parking tickets.”
Manny nodded, sipping his drink slowly.
I thought about how busy I had been on this night shift rotation. Mike and I had brought in a mugger from the park thanks to Mr. Walker, our resident park dweller, giving us the heads-up. Some said he was crazy, like my lieutenant, but I’d rather follow a lead than do nothing. It felt good to get people like that off the street, away from terrorizing innocent people.
“Hey, looks like the show is starting.” Manny pointed to the guys, who pulled Julio into a VIP lounge that looked over the club. The place was a dive between the cheesy porn music, which I guess was expected at a club, poor stage lighting to hide the dancers’ ages or flaws, and the strong drinks to encourage more money spent.
“Have a seat, the girls are coming up.”
All the guys sat on couches that looked tainted, and I took up my spot against the wall, sipping my drink, wishing we could have bar hopped and ended up at the Cask and Barrel or somewhere closer to home that wasn’t going to require a full decontamination. Several dancers and bottles of liquor later, I was more than ready to bounce.
“Hey, pretty thing, come over here.”
Ignoring the conversation around me, I looked at my phone, texting my partner to see how he was holding up with Hudson tonight.
“I’m sorry. I just serve drinks.” The soft voice was muffled by the music, and Mike responded back, letting me know that at least Hudson had picked up dinner. Dinner made me think of Tempest and how I hadn’t seen her in a month. I missed her.
“Not tonight, you don’t.” Julio was being an ass, and the guys were chuckling, egging him on.
“I said I only serve the drinks.” The girl, whose face I didn’t see when I looked up, was pulling herself out of Julio’s grasp.
I didn’t want to step in, but he was being inappropriate, and I couldn’t stand for that.
“It’s my party and I want you to dance. Vamos, niña.” He patted his lap, and I shook my head, willing the girl to leave with her now empty drink tray. Julio under the influence was nothing but trouble, and a pain in my ass.
“No.”
“Julio, the girl said no. Déjala en paz.”
Julio had better leave the girl alone. His drunk ass was testing my patience, friend or not.
“Mierda, voy a agarrar su coño si quiero.”
The fact that he thought he could just grab a girl’s pussy in a club or anywhere and get away with it was disgusting. That was definitely not happening. I slipped my phone in my pocket, ready to drag his ass out of the club and toss him in the car.
“Joey, he’s drunk. Come on.” Manny was trying to get me to leave, but I wasn’t leaving a helpless woman in this room with Julio, especially not after she said no.
Shaking my brother off, I looked into scared blue eyes I hadn’t seen in a month and my rage exploded.
“We’re leaving.” I pushed my brother away and grabbed Tempest by the arm, taking in her ridiculous outfit. Black heels, fishnet stockings, black bootie shorts that covered nothing, and a black bra under a barely there black tank top. It was criminal for her to be out like this and the ingrained machismo I fought internally wanted to go all caveman, but I knew better than that and I wasn’t going to sink down to Julio’s level.
“Please, let me go.”
“Cariño…” I guided her out of the VIP room and outside of the club to the street, forgetting she had no jacket. Snowflakes fell from the sky, covering the garish outfit, almost washing it away. Crystals peppered her red hair and stuck to her eyelashes and nose.
“Joey, I have to g-go b-ack in-inside.” Tempest shivered, and I wrapped my arms around her.
“No, cariño. You’re not going back in there until you tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s freezing out here.” She’s was right. I couldn’t keep her out here demanding answers.
“Hey, asshole, hands off the girl.” A bouncer from the club followed us, and I was in no mood for a fight, justified or not it would get my ass in hot water at work.
“Go back inside.” I pulled out my badge and flashed it, letting the gold glint in the moonlight.
“Hey, hey, it’s all good.” The guy threw his hands up in the air, retreating, and my anger intensified thinking that this bouncer would just take me at my badge and leave Tempest unprotected.
Whatever, I had no plans to let her return here if I could help it. I was so pissed in the moment that I pulled her along the sidewalk until we got to the rented SUV. I pulled out the keys getting it started, cranking up the heat. My brother and his dumbass friends could call a taxi.
“Tempest. Talk to me.” I drove the car abiding every speed limit and traffic law, giving her some space and me time to sort my thoughts. Her arms wrapped around her middle protectively.
“What do you want me to say? I’m mortified you saw me in there and now I’m probably going to lose my job.”
All things considered, I wouldn’t mind if she lost her job there because I wouldn’t have to worry about idiots trying to hurt her.
“Why are you working there? Actually, why haven’t I seen you at the diner?” Maybe she was struggling. Maybe there was something else I didn’t know about.
“Chuck lets me work the breakfast and lunch shifts.”
“Because the tips are better?”
If looks could have killed, Tempest would have butchered me. I didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but seriously, this girl had me tied in knots.
“No, because I was mugged walking home a month ago and now I feel broken inside. I’m only working at the Dollhouse serving drinks because my rent is behind.” The defeat in her voice gutted me. I would get back to the details of the mugging another time.
“What happened to the audition?” I pulled the car over, carefully gauging her reaction.
She looked up, black makeup streaked down her face like claw marks, marring her pale skin. “My knee was swollen to the size of a grapefruit and I was s-so afraid.”
The stutter did me in. This wasn’t a I’m cold because we’ve been standing in the snow stutter, but a I’m terrified because some asshole attacked me. I didn’t know if I was making it worse by forcing her to talk to me about it or not. Turning my palm up, I left it there for her smaller hand to slip into across the console of the SUV. When her hand joined me, I gave it a gentle, and hopefully a reassuring squeeze.
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“Can you please just take me home?” She repeated her address which I didn’t need the GPS for since her place was my usual work patrol. I drove on autopilot realizing I brought her to my place and not hers. I felt like an idiot.
“Let’s go inside, Tempest.” She looked up at my building and didn’t question or argue. Instead she followed me inside huddled into the corner of the elevator, trying to compose herself. We were about to be shut inside, when Mrs. Beecham from across the hall followed, holding her Corgi puppy, giving me the eye.
“Late night, Joey?”
“Mrs. Beecham,” I replied politely, praying she would keep her mouth shut and leave Tempest alone.
“He’s a good boy, honey, and if he gets fresh, you can come knock on my door across the hall. I’m in 5B.”
The elevator took us up quickly and Mrs. Beecham walked out first to her apartment. Now I felt like a jerk bringing her here, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
I opened my door, letting Tempest inside, hoping she wouldn’t bolt. Locking the door behind me, I left the keys on the side table and went to the kitchen. Tempest stood in the dark living room, wearing black against the moonlight from the window and looking like some avenging angel from television ready to swoop down and kick ass. And if you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t even see the slight shake of fear she tried so hard to hide from me in the car. I pulled drinks from
the refrigerator, a good Spanish beer, handing her an open one when I got the top off. It was either that or we could eat the leftovers my mami sent over. My bachelor pad was barely furnished and work kept me in the depths of unopened Ikea boxes.
“Thanks.”
We both took long drags of the beer, standing awkwardly silent in my living room near the kitchen bar counter, watching each other warily. I figured this was a good time to take a risk and jump off the bridge with my feelings for her. I didn’t know when I might get another opportunity.
“I should probably come clean and tell you that I’ve been hoping we could have met up together for a date, but it didn’t seem to work out before, and now I’m worried you’re going to think I’m an asshole like my brother’s friend tonight.”
Tempest drank the beer down, finishing it and placing the bottle on the counter. She had to step close to dispose of the bottle and the movement had her lush breasts brushing against my arm.
“Joey.”
Our eyes met and I finished my beer, letting the glasses clink together.
“I can’t guess how you feel about me and I won’t push you to do something you aren’t ready for.” I watched her throat bob swallowing whatever words she was going to say and my chest felt heavy.
“So then let me show you.” Tentatively she reached for me, hands on my cheeks and pulling me down to meet her face. Our lips shared a breathy sigh.
“Are you sure about this? I just gave you alcohol.” My inner self warred with letting Tempest do this.
“Oh, shut up and kiss me already. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to have your lips on mine.”
That was all the answer I needed.
“Como quieras, mi niña hermosa.” I wanted to give her anything she wished for, my beautiful girl.
She stepped closer to me as a shiver racked her body.
“I’m so cold, Joey.”
“Come with me.” I took her hand, much smaller in mine, and led her into my bathroom. There would be plenty of time for kissing and exploring, but I was afraid she might be experiencing shock of some kind. I turned the hot water on in the shower and let the room fill with steam, fogging the mirrors.
