The Escape: Soren's Saga

by Nicky James

  When our gazes connected, his eyes swam with fear. “I-I just need to pee.”

  “I don’t want anything from you. Let me speak first before you run off.”

  He hesitated, and I cautiously released my hold, not wanting to frighten him. He didn’t move, just stared back wide-eyed and waiting.

  My mind raced. I’d barely thought that far. All I knew was I didn’t want him back there against his will with any one else. “What I gave you last time, was it enough?”

  His expression turned puzzled.

  “The money, did I give you enough?”

  He nodded, face still full of distrust and confusion.

  I held his gaze and removed my wallet. As I withdrew a handful of bills, his forehead wrinkled.

  “What are you doing?”

  I shoved the money in his hand and when he tried to give it back, I closed his fist around it. “Take it. Find a room where no one will disturb you for a while, and tell them whatever story you want later if asked.”

  I knew how to get out of there unnoticed and all I could hope was Soren knew enough that I was trying to help him.

  He remained staring and stunned as I turned to go. Before I reached the door, he called out, “Why? I don’t understand?”

  Why? Because that look in your eyes haunts me. Because I can’t stand the thought of those other men touching you. Because I can see the fear and loathing you have when you think that is where your night is headed. Any explanation I could provide didn’t sound right.

  I glanced back and shrugged. “Just… Take a night off.”

  I left before he could question me further.

  The following night transpired the exact same way. I made my way to the club around eleven, nursed a few drinks, made conversation with Soren—which was tense and awkward for the better part of the first hour—and eventually found myself in back with him again.

  Without mincing words or giving more explanation, I tossed money on the bar as he made himself a drink and bid him farewell. He watched me leave with more questions swimming in his baby blues than I had answers for.

  The following weekend was the same and the one after that as well. At the rate I was going, I’d be broke in no time, but I didn’t care. Eventually, I would need to find the nerve to talk with him about it, maybe convince him to go to the police, but I wasn’t sure he trusted me enough yet.

  Come the first week of October, Soren’s face would light up when he’d see me walk in the club and it brought me an overwhelming sense of contentment and joy.

  Our conversations were less strained, although, he hadn’t let up teasing me about my obsessive need for a clean table and coaster. His sass and sarcasm flared with his good moods and every week, I anxiously awaited hearing more.

  We’d yet to talk about anything too in depth. The only things I’d learned about him, apart from his love for dancing, was a small bit about his brother and sister and the fact that his roommate apparently had a huge crush on me.

  I’d shared about my job, and my recent trip home to Italy—which seemed to fascinate him. And, I admitted I may have a teeny tiny smidgen of an issue with germs. He’d laughed and rolled his eyes, which made my heart flutter.

  That night, after Soren took me into the backroom and I routinely dug out my wallet, his hand came down on mine and stopped me. His gaze remained fixed to my chest and his body was stiffer than I’d become accustomed to seeing. Over the past few weeks, he’d relaxed, but once again, uncertainty or apprehension had settled under his skin.

  “You need to tell me why you’re doing this. I mean really why, because… I-I can’t figure you out.” The words were whispered and after they were said, he lifted doubt-filled eyes to mine.

  I held his gaze, their blues shimmering in the low light. Again, just like weeks earlier when he’d asked, I didn’t know what to say.

  When I said nothing, he pressed, “Just tell me. You have no idea the relief you’ve given me coming here…like no idea. For real. I just can’t figure out why.”

  I swallowed the lump growing in my throat along with my pride and said the first thing that came to my mind. “You know how I feel toward you. That hasn’t changed. I can’t stand the thought of those other men having their hands all over you and not caring for a moment how you feel about it. You are worth more than that.”

  The silence that followed my confession was deafening. Soren seemed to consider my words. After a tense few minutes, I retrieved my wallet, no longer being stopped, and pulled out a wad of bills. He accepted them as routine, but his expression turned sad, his lips pressed together.

  “See you next week.” I turned to go, but his small voice, one laced with nerves and awkwardness stopped me in my tracks.

  “Did you still want to have dinner?”

  My pulse jumped and I shifted around to look at him, needing to know if he was serious. He met my gaze, a mixture of confidence and nerves intertwined around his body.

  “Very much so,” I whispered. “But, that isn’t why I come. I just… I worry about you. Besides, I thought you didn’t date.”

  His confidence drained and he dashed his gaze to his boots. “I don’t and I’m not saying it’s a date, just… well… you’ve been really nice to me and… well… Everyone eats dinner, right?”

  I chuckled and crossed back toward him, wanting to touch him but refraining. “Right, they do.”

  He lifted his blue eyes to mine again. “I’m only off Sundays and Mondays.”

  With more nervous energy than I expected feeling, I smiled. “Only if you’re sure. I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “I don’t. I… I think it might be nice to talk… outside of here for a change.”

  A sense of relief overcame me. “I’d like that. How about Monday night, seven o’clock? I can pick you up.”

  He nodded and smiled weakly. “Yeah, okay. You know where I live. I’m apartment six-eighteen.”

  I filed that information away and slipped a business card out of my wallet. “That’s my cell, just shoot me a text if you change your mind. No pressure, okay?”

  He took the card and looked it over slowly before meeting my eyes again. “Okay. See you then.”

  Chapter Eleven

  SOREN

  “Do you wanna get subs for dinner? We have shit for groceries and I don’t feel like going shopping tonight.”

  I bounced around the heap of clean laundry on the floor we had yet to put away and returned to the bathroom to dress. I hadn’t told Ash about my dinner with Remy. He was going to be livid when he found out. Over the past few weeks, he’d accepted Remy as just another one of Donny’s ticks and despite his continued comments about his attractiveness and sexy accent, his indignation had simmered. My non-date would set him off and I knew it.

  “Nah, I umm… I’m going out tonight actually.” I pulled burgundy skinny jeans over my legs and secured the button while peeking through the crack in the door to see Ashton’s reaction. He couldn’t see me, but his brow furrowed and he stared at the door’s wooden surface.

  “Out? Out where? Like you got called into work out or just out for fun out?”

  It would have been much easier to lie if Remy wasn’t picking me up in the next half an hour. I knew I’d held off telling him long enough and would just need to take the wrath.

  I kicked the door open another few inches with my bare foot as I pulled a tight black t-shirt over my head. “Out for fun out.” I shook my messy blond hair and straightened my shirt. “For dinner.” I eyed Ash. “With Remy.”

  His jaw fell open as I flipped back around to the mirror and grabbed the mousse from the drawer beside me.

  “You have a date? You… You’re dating him now? But… I thought—”

  “It’s not a date.” I squirted a generous blob of mousse into my palm and worked it through my damp hair. “It’s just dinner. He… I just…” Since I hadn’t told Ash—or anyone for that matter—what went on every time I brought Remy to the backroom, I wasn’t sure h
ow to explain the gratitude I felt toward him without sounding suspicious. “It’s just dinner. It’s not a big deal.”

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said. It’s not a date. He knows that.”

  I pulled the hair dryer from the drawer and plugged it in, dashing a look to Ash. His lips pursed as he glared. Not caring, I rolled my eyes and turned back to the mirror.

  “Relax, it’s nothing.”

  Before he could whine or complain, I flipped on the blow dryer and worked fingers through my hair as I dried it. Once it was swooped to the side as I liked, I crammed the dryer back in the drawer and applied a tiny bit of liner to my eyes. As much as I loved fancy clothes and fashion, I couldn’t afford it, so I did the best I could with what I owned.

  I brushed my teeth and decided on a thin layer of lip gloss. Since I’d used my raspberry lotion, I decided against body spray.

  When I returned into the room, Ash was leaned against the wall, his iPad on his lap, clearly in a mood, ignoring me.

  Letting him stew, I opened the junk closet and rummaged through for a nice pair of shoes. Apart from a ratty pair of sneakers and my fancy leather boots for work, I didn’t wear much else on my feet, but I knew somewhere I owned a pair of black Doc Martins.

  The closet was a disaster. After my rather sporadic night of inventions and chaos, I’d only half cleaned up the mess I’d made. The shelving I’d taken down still laid on the floor against a wall and most of the junk had been crammed back into the closet carelessly.

  As I pulled out piles of crap, I tried to find where the footwear would be hiding. I pushed a stack of knotted belts I hadn’t undone out beside me and tossed a handful of Xbox games on top of them. There were a half-dozen sweaters that had fallen from their hangers, so I scooped them up and threw them out of the closet too. The empty laundry basket we never used, my winter coat, a box of game guides, and a half-eaten bag of Cheese Sticks—that somehow managed to find its way into the closet—all got moved out of my way as well. Then, I saw the tops of my winter boots and knew I was getting close.

  As I searched, there was a knock on the door.

  Seriously! What time is it?

  I tore my cell phone from my pocket. Six-fifty-five.

  Shit!

  I glanced to Ash, but he didn’t flinch and clearly had no intention of answering the door. I bounded over the mess of closet items and swerved around the clean laundry pile up to get to the door. I swung it open and there was Remy, a soft smile in place and a warmth emanating from his deep brown eyes. His dark jeans were paired with a beige knitted sweater that accentuated his hair and warm olive skin tone. Always clean shaven and perfectly groomed, not a hair was out of place. Whatever cologne he wore smelled amazing. He looked…

  …incredibly put together.

  I glanced down at my skinny jeans and plain t-shirt, feeling suddenly underdressed.

  “You look good,” he said, breaking into my thoughts as though reading my mind. I smiled, an odd twinge of nerves jumping around inside me.

  “You’re just stunned I own clothes, aren’t you? You’re used to seeing me half-naked all the time. Well for me this is all dressed up, so I hope it’s good enough.”

  He chuckled. “Like I said, you look good. Are you set?”

  “Umm… almost. I just can’t find my shoes. Come on in. I need a minute.”

  As I held the door, he entered. I didn’t think twice about the state of the apartment until he stalled two feet into the room and didn’t seem capable of going farther.

  An apprehension passed over his face before he hid it. His Adam’s apple rose and fell as his gaze skipped about the conglomeration of stuff piled around the room in complete disarray.

  My ears burned as my thoughts tripped over themselves trying to come up with something I could say.

  “Probably not a bleach cloth in the world big enough to make this okay, huh?”

  He didn’t seem to hear me and his gaze continued to dance around the room.

  I’m an idiot.

  The longer he stood there saying nothing the smaller and younger I felt. He was already way older than me and I sure wasn’t winning any points in the “all grown up” category.

  Remy’s gaze eventually landed on Ashton where he sat on his bed, continuing to ignore us. “Good evening, Ashton.”

  I’d told Remy of Ashton’s crush, and was glad he at least acknowledged him with a warm smile. Ashton peeked up above his iPad and returned it. His malice didn’t extend to Remy and was reserved for me alone.

  “You look nice,” Ash complimented.

  “Thank you.” Remy smoothed a hand down his sweater as though ensuring there weren’t wrinkles. Knowing enough about him and his oddities, that was probably exactly what he was doing.

  Not wanting to spend anymore time in my trashed apartment than I had to, I dashed around the messes on the floor and searched more frantically for my shoes.

  Once I found them, I rooted through the pile of clothes on the floor until I came up with a mismatched pair of socks. When I had them in hand, I hopped onto the edge of my unmade bed and pulled them on, dashing a quick glance to Remy. His forehead was permanently creased as he watched me finish getting dressed. The muscles in his shoulders were tight and stiff as he hovered by the door like he wanted to escape. Maybe going out for dinner was a bad idea.

  “These are clean.” I indicated to my socks, trying to ease his mind, in case he assumed I was putting on dirty clothes. “Those are clean clothes in that pile, not dirty, we just did laundry earlier and haven’t put them away yet.”

  I needed to stop talking, because everything pouring out of my mouth was just more dirt piled onto stupidity mountain, and I could almost sense Remy’s opinion of me plummeting. I wasn’t even sure why I gave such a big shit. It wasn’t a date, it was just food. I didn’t like him, I just… appreciated all he’d done.

  Remy returned my smile, the unease never leaving his eyes.

  Once my socks and shoes were on, I snagged a light leather jacket from the floor—since the coat hooks still dangled on their screws—and pulled it on.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  Like my words were the gunfire indicating the start of a race, Remy shot out the door, with as much grace and dignity as he could. I followed. As the door was about to close, Ashton spoke from inside. “Enjoy your date.” His words were laced with venom.

  We rode down the elevator in awkward silence. Remy’s body was still rigid and looking at the conditions of my building for the first time, I could understand why. It wasn’t exactly the most pristine building on the block. If I were to guess, I’d say it was within the bottom five.

  When we made it out front, Remy aimed me to the north parking lot. The air was cool and a faint breeze blew my hair into my eyes so I needed to brush it aside. Out in the open evening, Remy’s tension released and he slowed his pace when he realized I was struggling to keep up. Not only was he much taller than me, but his gait was nearly twice mine and he’d raced so fast out of the building, you’d have thought it was on fire.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets and continued beside him. As we entered the building’s north lot, he pulled his keys out and hit the door unlock button. I glanced up to see which vehicle we were headed toward. The headlights of a silver Mercedes Benz pulsed twice before dimming out and I ground to a halt. The car shimmered like new under the parking lot lamps and I didn’t need to be a genius to know it was one of those classy, kind of expensive, higher-end type of vehicles.

  “Is something the matter?”

  Not realizing I’d stopped, Remy’s voice brought me out of my semi-stunned state. His dark eyes watched my uncertainty.

  Trailing my gaze from his flashy car to him, admiring again how well-groomed and put together he was, I began to wonder what the hell he was doing taking me out for dinner.

  “Are you sure you want me to sit in your car? I mean, I showered, but just with body wash. I didn’t do a whole fancy aromatic bleach
bath or anything like that.” When a smile crept into the corner of his mouth, it only encouraged me. “The bottle’s fine print doesn’t really detail its germ breakdown like that sanitizer stuff. So, I may not be ninety-nine percent germ free… Maybe only sixty-five or something.” I shrugged. “That cool with you?”

  “Have I ever told you how much I enjoy your sass?”

  That time, I laughed. He had his quirks, but he wasn’t easily rattled. “You are probably the only man alive.”

  He chuckled and indicated for me to get in. I didn’t razz him anymore and when I climbed in, I sat carefully. The dash was polished and the mats were grit free. Not a single streak smeared any of the windows and I became suddenly self-conscious of my shoes and hoped they weren’t dirty.

  Who keeps their car this clean?

  Remy fastened his buckle and I followed suit. He was quiet, and when he started the vehicle, no music came from the radio. I didn’t like the void of silence between us and wished I could think of something to say.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked.

  “Well,” Remy said as he looked over his shoulder and backed out of the parking spot. “I didn’t know what kind of food you enjoyed, so I chose a restaurant that has a fairly diverse menu. Have you ever eaten at Lavender’s downtown?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  Remy spared a glance toward me and smiled before he pulled into traffic. “I’m sure they will have something you enjoy on their menu.”

  “I’m pretty simple. Except, usually if I eat out it’s pizza or subs or something like that.”

  I clamped my mouth shut, again feeling stupid. How did I end up there with him? At the club, surrounded by that tiresome atmosphere, Remy had been my shining light lately and I looked forward to him showing up and saving me from a job I’d grown desperately tired of. As we drove in silence toward some strange—probably fancy—restaurant, I feared we’d have nothing to talk about and the moderate comfort we’d developed would be gone.