Your average Tuesday

I have never made excellent choices in life. Especially when it comes to men. Mostly I'd end up embarrassed and alone, which sucks big time. This time though I was quite sure I’d made a huge mistake. A ginormous one.

Cole Belmont had swept me off my feet with his cocky grin and bad boy vibe. The scars covering his body ought to have been a warning sign, but my love-struck brain had put them down as edgy and sexy. I never questioned his disappearances, where he went when he vanished for days without calling or texting.

He would come back, sometimes bruised and with a healing wound, other times he wouldn't have a scratch on him. I opened my door and my arms, legs, with a gentle smile and takeaway Chinese food. I told myself I loved him.

We had gone to a club downtown, Horizon. It was one of those rare nights when he had asked me to tag along. Most of the time he’d go out and I’d stay at home, waiting for his booty call.

“Wear something pretty and I'll pick you up at 9.” His voice did funny things to me and knees buckling I had hung up the phone to find my prettiest dress.

Cole had this killer smile, tonight he hit me with it full blast as I stepped out from my building to get into his sleek sports car. My little black number had a slit up to my thigh and a bare back. Paired with stiletto heels and a short faux fur jacket I thought I looked the bomb. Cole’s smile confirmed the fact.

The bouncer waved us past the long line waiting to get in. I gave the ones in front a small smile, I knew how it felt standing there and not knowing if you'd get in or not. Until that night a few months ago, when Cole slid up to me outside Club Havana and mumbled sexy words in my ear, that had been me. Cole’s arm around my waist tightened almost painfully as we entered the club and he growled in my ear.

“Don't leave my side tonight.”

“Never.” They'd have to pry my cold dead fingers from his body before I'd leave him.

“Good girl.” His lips brushed my ear and I had to prevent myself from melting into a puddle right there by the bar.

Cole guided me to a table in a roped off VIP section, up half a stair and away from the dance floor. The music was good, my body begging me to dance. But I had promised not to leave his side and he sat in a booth in the back, ordering champagne and not letting me go even an instant. The bubbles tickled my nose and his nearness fuzzed my brain. It was too busy creating all kind of sexy scenarios to notice all the different people who came to sit with us. They'd sit across from Cole, drinks in hand, and talk about the most random things. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I wondered what they all wanted, but his nearness and my dumbstruck brain meant I couldn’t focus long enough to care.

“The manager said to tell you that the goods were delivered.”

“There wasn't anything to clean, so we sent them home. Without pay.”

“The contract has been signed.”

“We can't find him, called everyone we know. Nothing.”

“I've sent the flowers.”

“We parked the car over at Ocean Avenue. They’ll think he’s left town.”

I'm not a big drinker. And I was slightly ashamed to admit it, but I didn't like champagne very much. I filled his glass up and only added a little to mine, making it look as if I drank more than I did. Cole didn't pay me much mind anymore, his death grip on me had even loosened a little. The spell he had on me must have slipped some too, because I started getting bored with just sitting there. Here we were, at one of the hardest to get into clubs in town and all we did was sit. The DJ had been playing all the latest hits, making my body want to bust moves out on the dance floor.

I scanned the VIP area, we were the only ones sitting there. Huh, weird. Half hidden behind a ugly curtain was a simple steel door. I could spot the edge of an exit sign peeking out from behind the red velvet. The booths were all black leather and red velvet. Very fancy looking, but my thighs were sticking to the leather and the velvet smelled of cigarettes. A little of Club Horizon’s magic had disappeared.

A couple of dolled up women were seated by the bar, near the stairs and velvet ropes. Bouncing their laughs and smiles in our general direction, pushing their boobs forward whenever a man walked up or down the stairs. So far none of the well-dressed men had shown any interest. That’s not normal. Who wouldn’t want to tap some easy booty? I wished I could tell them that the VIP section wasn’t anything spectacular, but why take away their dreams?

“I'll be back soon, babe.” Cole’s voice sent tingles down my spine. But wait. What?

“Where are you going?” I looked at the guy sitting across the table from us. He was new and one of those slick-back hair kind of guys. And I do not like them, at all. Cole looked annoyed.

“Fuck’s sake, I'll be back soon.” Slick-back gave me an insincere smile and took a sip of his beer. “Stay put. Marco will keep you company.” Cole got up and walked away. My face wanted to pout, but I knew how unattractive Cole thought that was so I resisted. Instead I dipped my finger in champagne and drew abstract art on the table.

“So, you and Cole,” There was a leer with my name on it when I glanced in Marco’s direction. “You been with him long?”

“None of your business. And no, I’m not interested.” He chuckled into his beer.

“No worries doll, I'd like to keep my hands and other parts of my anatomy attached to my body…” Outwardly I shrugged my shoulders but my mind, now more or less cleared of lust, seemed to finally have caught up with reality. I started to put together tonight's conversations with Cole’s looks and behaviour. Then I added all the other things I had heard, but not listened to. Suddenly it all just clicked into place. I was dating a criminal. Maybe even a crime boss. Fuck!

I didn’t have time to figure out how I would get out of this mess because there was something going on down by the bar. Shouting and shoving. The dolled-up women didn’t look very happy about sitting so close to it and relocated to the dancefloor. Marco lost interest in me. His eyes were trained on Cole and the other people down by the bar. He got up and turned towards the scuffle, his hand going to the back of his trouser. Something black and obviously gun-shaped was pulled out as he walked a couple of steps towards the stairs.

My pulse drummed loudly in my ears. Cold sweat was making me shiver. A loud noise. Gun shot. I dove under the table. Marco stumbled back. Lifted his hand. Fired. Another shot. He stumbled again. Fell. His head bounced once. The music had stopped. People were screaming and running for the front door. I sat under the table watching Marco fight for breath. A dark stain on his light blue shirt growing larger with each passing moment. More gunshots. More screaming.

Where was Cole? Why hadn't he come back to me to make sure I was safe? Was he shot? Was he… was he dead? I wanted to know, but at the same time I didn't. And I realised I really wanted to stay alive. More than I wanted to know if my crime boss boyfriend had gotten shot or not. The gun fire had me shaking. If I hadn’t been so terrified, I would have laughed at the barroom shoot out going on down there.

Marco’s gun was next to his outstretched hand. Grabbing my purse from the couch behind me I started crawling towards the almost hidden door at the back of the VIP area. Marco wasn’t breathing anymore. I had never shot a gun before, I had never held a gun before. I would probably injure someone more if I threw it at them, but something had me grabbing the gun as I crawled past. Big and ugly and alien I cradled it in my left hand. I got to the door. Would they see me? Could I open this without anyone noticing? The champagne in my stomach churned. I never wanted to drink that vile stuff again!

Praying to a God I didn’t believe in I reached for the handle. The door opened inwards. A deep, dark, cold kind of blackness. Without hesitation I slipped through, shoving the door shut behind me. The sound of gunfight almost cut off. At first I thought it was completely dark. My eyes adjusted to the gloom and I could see the low light of an exit sign further down a narrow corridor. My left hand was beginning to ache. With wobbly legs and a racing heart I stood. If I could make it to the door with the exit sign I would be safe. Right?

A thought had me pausing. My empty hand felt the door leading into the club. A lock. I turned it with a click that echoed in the dark. Imagined safety. Cursing my vanity, I carefully snuck down the dust smelling hallway, my stilettos clicking against the concrete floor. Taking them of would make sneaking easier, but I knew I could run fast in them if need be and that would beat sneaking in the dark with the danger of stepping on broken glass.

A what-if crossed my mind. What if someone was waiting on the other side of that door? Someone who knew how to handle a gun. Someone who was told to kill anyone trying to leave. I forced the thought from my mind. I was close now. I would be free soon. Call the police from a safe distance. Or maybe just go home and forget this ever happened. Yeah.

There was light coming from a gap near the floor, a cool draft chilled my toes. I switched the gun to my right hand. It felt weird, all clammy from my death grip and too big for my hand. Unless someone looked too carefully I might be able to fool them to thinking I could shoot. Best scenario it would give me time to run, worst case they’d shoot. Positive thinking was near impossible.

Bright light shone in my eyes when I carefully opened the door. A large room. A storage space? Shelves were lining the walls, the middle of the room cleared. And smack in the middle, someone sitting on a chair.

“Are you here to finish me off, sweetheart?” There was amusement in his voice and an accent I couldn’t quite place. Squinting my eyes, I saw dark trousers and a white singlet. Tattoos covered most of his bared skin. Black shiny shoes. A closer look showed me dark stains on the white fabric, rust coloured. Blood. “I have prayed for a swift end to this, but seeing you makes me wish to live a little longer.”

Confused I took a couple of steps closer towards him. His hands were behind his back, as if tied but he didn’t seem to mind. Behind me the door clicked shut. My hand went to my mouth when I took in his face. Black and blue bruises covered half of it, his lip clearly split and the source of most of the blood on this clothes. His hair was blonde and long, down to his shoulders, but right now up in a messed-up ponytail. The eye not swollen shut, an amber colour. He grinned, winced at the pain and tried a half-smile instead.

“If you’re not here to kill me, would you mind getting the keys lying there on the table?” The man nodded towards a small table by the door. My left hand picked up the set of tiny keys. “Yes. Now if you please...” He jiggled his hands, the sound of metal on metal as handcuffs touched the chair. The sound had me finding my voice.

“I don’t know who you are. You could be a murderer or something.” And still I moved towards him.

“Sweetheart.” He sounded tired. “You’re absolutely correct. I am a dangerous man, but not to you. This I swear.” I thought about Cole. About all the other men I had trusted and a part of me wanted to leave him to his fate. Another part whispered that this was the first man to tell me the truth.

“Alright. I’ll set you free. But any funny business and I’ll shoot.” He turned to face the other way, but I had seen the smile he was trying to hide. He knew.

“Alright, no… funny business.” His voice couldn’t hide the smile either.

I needed to use both hands to unlock the handcuffs, another piece of equipment I never had handled before. The gun was lying on the floor beside me and I hated the thought of having to pick it up again. There was a quiet click as the first cuff opened. I fell on my butt when the beat-up man moved his arms. He stretched his upper body, biting down on a moan of pain.

The sound of a gun firing was heard from the corridor leading to the club. Someone had made short work of the locked door at the other end. Running and shouting echoed down towards this room. I froze. I saw the door open and black dressed men I didn’t know come charging into the room. I closed my eyes. This was the end.

There was movement beside me. The sound of a chair scraping over the floor and the sound of someone by the door shouting in anger and surprise. Three loud shots rang out. I covered my ears, the sound of bodies falling onto concrete was the last thing I heard. Tears I hadn’t let myself shed burned behind my eyelids. The champagne sour in my stomach. When I felt a hand on my shoulder I whimpered.

“Sweetheart.” My body begged me to collapse onto the floor. “We cannot linger. You need to get home.” My hands fell to my sides and I looked up into his bruised face. There was something in his eyes that made me reach for his outstretched hand. I helped him remove the handcuffs and he threw them underneath one of the many shelves.

Equal parts leaning on and carrying each other we made it outside. The sound of sirens was coming closer, the police must have finally been contacted. He pulled me away from the front entrance of the club and towards the street behind it. I hailed a cab and gave my home address.

“You don’t want me to take him to the hospital?” The elderly black man gave me a worried look in the rear-view mirror.

“No need. He got stupid drunk again and punched a guard. I’ll patch him up at home.” The driver nodded and pulled out into traffic. I was amazed of how easy the lie had rolled off my tongue. We held onto each other the whole way.

“You take care now miss. Guys like him ain’t worth the trouble.” I willed my smile to be sweet and acquiescent.

“He’s not this bad most of the time.” I tipped the driver handsomely.

The walk up the stairs seemed to take its toll. The beat-up man collapsed onto my bed with a groan and then he promptly fell asleep. I watched him for a minute or two. He didn’t stir. After removing his shoes and covering him with my duvet I slipped my own shoes off. My brain told me to call the police, so did my still racing heart, but my tired body changed into an old t-shirt, left by one of my many ex boyfriends, and went to sleep next to him. As I said, I was never any good at this ‘making good decisions’ thing.