by Nicky James
I dashed a look around the changeroom to see if anyone had noticed me smiling like an idiot at my phone, but the others were too busy talking and dressing for later.
I finished buckling my boots and shoved my clothes and phone into my locker. I’d purchased a lock over a month earlier, after acquiring some stuff from A.J. I didn’t want to have it on me and carry it back and forth to home, so I kept it at work in case I needed it. Thankfully, it had become irrelevant. Remy’s appearance every weekend saved me from needing it.
Come eleven o’clock the club was its usual Friday night insanity. Donny had me working the second level and I was run off my feet with a boisterous group of college students. Every so often while running drinks to tables, I would weave by the railing that overlooked the lower level and scan the entrance. Remy should be there any minute and I knew I’d be pulled downstairs.
Another two trays of drinks delivered, some routine flirting and about four cringe-worthy ass-grabs later, I checked again over the railing and still didn’t see him.
Scanning more thoroughly gave me no better results, so I returned to work. When eleven-thirty came and went, and Remy was no where to be seen, a small sense of panic ignited in my gut. Where was he? He was never late. The man was meticulously on time. His routine was as rigid as the rest of his life.
After emptying my tray of drinks, I raced back to the upper level bar and let the bartender, Lucas, know I was taking five to hit the bathroom. Instead, I shot down the stairs two at a time and fled through the back doors to the changerooms. After unlocking my locker, I pulled out my phone to see if he’d left a message.
Nothing.
My heart thudded faster as I typed out a quick text.
Where r u?
I sat on the bench and bounced my legs as I waited for a reply. When ten minutes passed and nothing came through, I messaged him again. My hands shook and it made it difficult to type.
Please hury.
I threw my phone in my locker and secured it before sitting back down. I was shaking badly and my mind raced toward what might happen if Remy didn’t show up. I’d gotten comfortable knowing he would come and hadn’t worried about being at anyone’s beck and call for well over a month.
Taking in a few deep breaths, I stood and tried to look as put together as I could. Maybe he was driving. Maybe he just got behind or there was traffic. He’d be there.
In a cloud, I returned to the second level and accepted my tray back from Lucas. Robotically making rounds of my tables, my mind raced through every possible scenario of what could happen in the next couple of hours. As quickly as they infiltrated my brain, I shoved them away.
No, he’ll be here.
By midnight I took the stage with A.J and for the first time in my life, I felt uncoordinated and sloppy. The lights pulsed and shone bright which made scanning the crowd difficult as I danced. Nausea built in my stomach when I caught sight of Donny, chatting with a group of usual ticks near the side of the stage.
His gaze was glued to me and the look on his face was anything but friendly. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my body and moving to the music. My heartrate was erratic, and I was out of breath not even halfway through our set.
When we finished, I darted to the other side of the stage opposite Donny and made my way to the bar for a drink.
“You okay?” A.J shimmied up beside me and leaned in to be heard over the music.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I gulped my water and waved to the bartender for more.
A.J watched me and I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “You have something to help you out?”
I couldn’t nod my head fast enough. “Yeah, still have some. Thanks.”
With my thoughts colliding into each other, I contemplated just sneaking into the changeroom and getting high. If that was where my night was headed, I couldn’t face it any other way.
He wasn’t there. Remy was late.
I darted my gaze around the bar frantically one last time and caught sight of Donny making his way toward me and A.J.
Fuck!
I shoved past A.J and almost collided with a customer in my attempt to escape. “Tell him I’ll be back.”
My feet couldn’t move faster, but before I cleared the door to the changerooms, a beefy hand clenched my upper arm.
Gunner.
“Hold up, kid, Donny wants you to stop.”
My panic spiked, sending pins and needles to raise the hairs on my body as I darted my gaze to Gunner’s face. He shook his head sympathetically and nodded behind me to where I knew Donny approached.
The thrashing in my chest became painful as I turned around and swallowed a hard lump, prepared to face him. I’d just tell him I needed to pee, then I’d be back. He’d understand. He’d let me go.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Remy, where are you?
With a look only Donny could pull off, he summoned me forward. The heat surrounding me was suffocating but I forced myself to approach.
The minute I stood before him, his hand came up and gripped my chin in a tight hold. He lifted my face to his and glared. “You’ll entertain table three tonight. It’s about time you mix things up. Too many nights falling into routine has you forgetting yourself. Now go.”
He patted my cheek and released my face, but I didn’t move. My legs locked and my throat tightened. “No,” I choked. But it came out as barely a whisper. How Donny managed to hear me was anybody’s guess, but he did and the same hand flew back to my jaw and clamped it in a vice grip.
“Pardon me?”
I shook my head, unable to hide the emotions building inside me. “No. I don’t want to. Please.”
Despite the blaring music and hundreds of people in the club, the only thing I could hear was the roaring of my own blood pulsing in my ears. My job had once been so easy. Automatic. Time had taken its toll and all that remained was a powerless struggle to find myself again. And I wasn’t going to win. Not that night.
Donny’s eyes narrowed and he brought his face within inches of my own before saying the words no dancer wanted to hear. “My office. Now.”
The hand moved from my face to squeeze around my arm. The choice was, walk or be dragged. To save my dignity when surrounded by so many people, I walked. There wasn’t an ounce of hope left that I would get out of there unscathed. When Donny felt the need to remind us of our place, it never went well. For that reason, we all knew to toe the line and not fuck up.
I just fucked up.
The doors and hallway leading to Donny’s office were accessed on the other side of the bar. I stared at the ground, a numbness sinking in and I only hoped it remained until I could go home. Before we made it to the doors, I was pulled to a stop. When I looked up to see why, A.J stood in our path.
Always confident and never fearful, he was the only man who would dare attempt to debunk Donny once he got something in his mind. A.J was like a sacrificial lamb, willing to offer himself as bait when the lion became hungry.
“Donny, I’ll take three, not a big deal. Soren hasn’t felt well all night, just cut him some slack. He may be coming down with something.”
The hand on my arm tightened. “Are all my boys forgetting their place tonight?”
The question wasn’t directed at me and I watched as A.J firmed his jaw. There was a brief moment where his gaze met mine and I tried to express without words that I appreciated him trying.
“No, sir. I’m sorry.”
A.J moved aside and I dropped my head again, letting it hang as I was pushed along. He took me through the doors on the far side of the club, up the stairs, and down a dark hall to a room at the end.
When Donny’s office door closed behind me, I heard the lock engage. He rounded me with firm self-assured steps and came to a stop.
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly, I lifted my head.
“Since when is it all right to backtalk me?”
I shook my head and found my voice. “Never.”
“Precisely.” He fo
lded his broad arms over his chest. “It’s been a long time since you’ve needed a reminder of your place around here, Soren. I’m disappointed in you.”
“I know my place, sir.”
“I think you’ve become too comfortable. That right there is why I generally don’t allow too much repetition with customers. Because you start to expect things a certain way and when given orders outside those expectations, I receive sass. I don’t like your sass.”
My exposed skin prickled with goosebumps and I clench my jaw to suppress the shiver making my teeth chatter. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll gladly serve whatever table you’d like me to serve tonight.”
“Yes. You will.” His hands dropped to his belt and he began unclasping it. “Undress.”
I’d managed to avoid being “reminded of my position” for the better part of a year and a half. I swallowed the shame filling my mouth with bile and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter Fifteen
REMY
I passed through each room, making one last check of the apartment. Satisfied, I put on my sneakers and grabbed a jacket. As I zipped it, I checked myself for the second time in the full-length mirror by the door. I adjusted the collar of my cream-colored button up for the tenth time, once again debating if it was a good enough shirt to wear.
It was a quarter to eleven, I didn’t have time to change if I wanted to make it to the club on time, so it would have to do. I unhooked my keys from their place on the wall and left, locking the door behind me. Halfway to the elevator, I ground to a halt, realizing I’d forgotten my phone.
I swung around and ran back inside, resisting the urge to do a round of the apartment again. I kept my mind on Soren and tried to remind myself not to obsess.
I slid my phone in my coat pocket and successfully made it back into the hallway without detouring to the kitchen or bathroom.
At the elevator, I pressed the call button and waited. There was a series of clinks and whines as the elevator rose to my floor.
Once inside I tapped the button for the parking garage and shoved my hands in my pockets while I traveled down.
If I didn’t live on the fourteenth floor, I’d take the stairs. Far too many people were in and out of that tiny square contraption in a day, and I’d had many years to conjure up just how disgusting and unclean it might be under the surface.
Not only was the air inside stale and hot, even at the end of October, but it carried a permanent odor of unwashed bodies.
I didn’t lean against the walls as most people did, and when I touched the buttons, I used my knuckle, reminding myself to wash the first chance I got.
Partway through my descent, a piercing noise sounded above me. The elevator jerked and a metallic grinding screeched and echoed, loud enough I brought a hand to my ear as I looked up. The small box where I stood, rattled and slowed before everything fell silent and my downward journey stopped entirely.
I darted my gaze to the buttons beside the elevator door. The G for garage which had been lit-up was dark. I tapped it again. Nothing. And then again, that time with the end of my finger properly, in case my knuckle wasn’t offering enough force. Still nothing.
Glancing up where I’d heard the noise, my mind began to race. “What the hell.”
I tapped the button for my floor and then two different floors when there was still no response. I wasn’t even sure how far down I’d travelled. I hit the door open button, even though at that point I knew it would do no good.
“Devi essere scherzando”
I turned a circle and again raised my eyes to the top of the elevator.
“Come on. Not now.”
I jammed the door button three more times before giving up. There was a red emergency button next to the door button and I pressed it without hesitation. An alarm bell, which sounded the minute it was depressed, rang loud enough I lifted a shoulder to cover an ear. The minute my finger released the button it stopped and I stared at it in disbelief.
That’s it? Just a local alarm in the building?
I pressed it again, bracing myself against the assault that time and held it longer. It echoed up the elevator shaft, deafening me. When I released it, I tried to listen past the ringing in my ears for anyone who might have heard it.
I spun in a circle, looking for an emergency phone like we had in my office building elevators but there wasn’t one. I pulled my cell phone out, but when I went to make a call, the signal was dead.
“Merda.” Shifting my position, I moved my phone about, hoping it would catch a weak signal. Briefly, a bar would show up but then drop again almost right away. I dialed my superintendents number and continued to shuffle around, waiting for the signal to pick up so I could make the call.
In the back corner of the elevator, the single bar held just long enough. It was late and the man was older. I only hoped he answered.
After a few rings, he picked up with a raspy grunt I took as a greeting. I didn’t wait for more and spoke quickly with fear my call might drop before I expressed my need for assistance.
“Mr. Jefferson, this is Giuseppe Moretti from fourteen-o-eight. I’m stuck in the elevator. It’s stopped and I need assistance.”
There was static and his voice cut in and out when he responded. I couldn’t make out what he said and feared maybe I hadn’t been understood, so I repeated myself.
Again, his voice came in and out, but I caught the words help and right away before I lost him entirely and our call dropped.
Reluctant to stand around doing nothing, I tried the buttons again. First hitting a few different floors before jamming the door open button repeatedly. I paced and came to a stop in front of the doors, staring at them and trying not to analyse their cleanliness. Fighting my own mind, I jammed my fingers into the middle and tried to pry them apart. No matter how much force I applied, they didn’t budge.
Taking a break, I sifted through possible ways of helping myself but came up dry. Bracing for a head-splitting noise, I held the emergency button for as long as I could stand before giving up. I continued my pace as I waited for someone to come help.
When an extensive amount of time had passed and I still heard nothing on the other end, I jammed the button again, depressing it over and over. If I could get someone’s attention, then I could at least have them confirm the super had called for help
I pulled my phone out and checked the time. It was already twenty after eleven and I cursed, knowing I was late and Soren would probably be wondering what happened.
“Hello?” A voice sounded from the other side of the doors, coming from below.
“Hello! I’m in the elevator. Can you hear me?”
“Yeah. Shit are you stuck in there?”
Trying to bury my annoyance at his ridiculous question, I answered, “Yes. Can you please call the super and ensure he has called for help? I tried to make the call but my connection on my phone keeps dropping.”
“Yeah, no problem. Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”
With a sigh of relief, knowing at least I wasn’t alone and stranded, I continued to pace as I waited. After about ten minutes the voice returned. “Hey, you there?”
Where do you think I’m going?
“I’m here.”
“He called for help. Said they are on there way. Hang tight.”
Lovely.
“Thank you.”
Deciding there wasn’t much point in hanging around, the man made his excuses and I was alone.
By midnight my frustration had me prying on the doors again. What the hell was taking so long? I understood it was late, but come on.
I pulled my phone out again and typed a message to Soren, explaining what had happened. I hit send and held my phone up hoping for enough connection to at least send my message. I knew he’d be on the floor and probably wouldn’t get it, but I started worrying about how late it was and needed him to know I was stranded.
Three failed attempts later, I gave up and pocketed my phone. I’d barely released i
t from my hand when it chimed and I yanked it out again, opening the message. Two messages from Soren came through back to back and I dashed a look to the bars and saw I had a weak signal.
I re-typed my message and hit send before reading his, wanting to catch the signal before it was gone.
Message failed to send.
“Cazzo!”
When I read his messages, my stomach dropped.
Where r u? and Please hury.
All the implications of my being late flooded my mind at once making me ill.
“No, dammit.” I hit send again on my message, moving back to the corner where it had worked the first time.
It took ten minutes and six more tries before finally it went through. All I could do was stare at my phone and the two quick messages I’d received. I could almost hear Soren’s desperation in those few words and my explanation of why I was late wouldn’t do him any good.
As I stared, mind racing, panic rising, there was a loud voice on the other side of the wall, where the man had been a short while ago.
“Hello?”
I dropped my phone in my pocket. “I’m here. You need to get me out.”
“Yup, we’re working on it. We need to manually lower the elevator a bit more to get you to this level then we can open the doors. Shouldn’t be too long.”
“Please hurry, I’m supposed to be somewhere.”
Shouldn’t be too long, turned into another forty minutes of waiting before the doors were finally opened and I was free.
I couldn’t move fast enough. The assault of images and possible outcomes my mind had conjured over those past few hours had been agonizing, and I knew being late would have a detrimental effect on Soren’s night.
The thought of what could be happening had me driving recklessly through town. Any concern for my personal wellbeing or rules went out the window. All I could think about was Soren and keeping him out of the hands of any of those men.
Once I found a place to park a few blocks down, I raced toward the building while pulling my phone out. One-fifteen. I was way too late and I knew it. He hadn’t responded to my text either so I couldn’t be certain he’d received it.
