Part One

Arizona
It's the same routine every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night. I stand in front of a full-length mirror, psyching myself up to get out there and do my job. My face is done up; the smoky eyeshadow, bronzed cheeks and pink lip gloss combination still feels so unnatural to me. I'm comfortable with my long, curled hair. This is how I'd usually wear it. It's what I'm wearing, or lack of what I'm wearing, that bothers me the most; cobalt blue lingerie that leaves very little to the imagination. The black stilettos I'm wearing make everything in my body tight.

"Love that colour on you, Zo," Teddy greets me with a gentle, backhanded slap to my ass as she makes her way passed me. She stands in front of the mirror next to me, adjusting her own dusty pink bra to accentuate her cleavage. Having my best friend here with me makes me feel somewhat better. We were lucky to find each other in this shit situation. "What time you home?" She asks, reapplying the lipstick that matches her underwear.

"I'm here 'til closing," I sigh out, dejectedly. "What about you?"

"I get off at 1," she says, turning to face me. "I'll leave your dinner in the oven," she says, quickly. She always insists on cooking when I work late, and vice versa.

"Thanks, you're the best," I smile at her before turning to head out of the dressing room. "I'll see you later."

"Be safe, Zo," she calls out, caringly.

"You, too."

As I walk into the dark club lit only by neon signs, I see that one of my regular clients is here already watching Jess dance on stage with a near-empty whiskey tumbler in his hand. He's a smug, high-powered businessman in his early thirties. Married. Thinks he owns the place because he brings in plenty of money. He's a lot more handsy than the other men I dance for. I try to avoid him and go to the bar to pick up a tray of shots. I start to circulate the room, offering the spirits around. It's not long before I feel his palm rest on my lower back. I plaster a fake smile on my face and turn to face him.

"Good evening, Mr Cohen," I say, with false enthusiasm. He doesn't say anything, he simply slides a fifty into my bra. I already know what he wants. I put the tray on the nearest table and take his hand, leading him towards the Champagne room for a private dance behind the curtains. He sits down and I straddle him. As I begin rolling my hips to the music, he grabs my ass and grunts. I keep my hands tangled up in my own hair so I'm not tempted to slap him away. My body moves up and down above him and it becomes apparent that his eyes are fixed to my tits. He slides another fifty into my underwear.

"Lose the bra," he demands. Feeling sick to my stomach, I reach around with one hand, unclasp it and let it fall to the floor. I get through it by telling myself this is as far as it can go. He can look, but he can't touch. And, he can't make me take off my underwear. Those are the club rules... most of the time. I suffer through the dance for a few more minutes before the music comes to an end. I give him a phoney smile and get off his lap to retrieve my bra. I put it back on quickly and shove the money into one of its cups. "The dance was great," he says, sleazily, making me spin around to face him. "But, you know, it's left me a little... tense." There's a dark gleam in his eye as he stands and invades my personal space. I don't like where this is going. "What will you do for a grand?"

"I-It's not that kind of place, sir," I stutter, but try to remain professional. "I'm here to dance. That's it." I say, holding my hands up. He steps closer to me and grabs my arm tightly. He's so strong that he could snap it in half with one swift motion if he wanted to.

"Listen, you little bitch," his tone turns aggressive. "You gave me this," he says, referring to his erection. "Now you're going to get rid of it for me!" As he pushes me into the back wall, I feel it through his suit trousers. Tears sting my eyes and a lump forms in my throat. What the hell is he going to make me do?

"Get off of her!" I hear Teddy's voice infiltrate the room. She grabs one of his arms to try and get him away from me but he shoves her to the floor with it.

"Teddy!" I cry out. His grip on me is looser in all the commotion and I manage to wriggle out of his hand, rushing to my friend's side. "Are you alright?" I ask, my voice wavering.

"Yeah," She says, quickly. Cohen is already rushing out of the room, outraged that he hasn't got what he wanted. "I heard that asshole shouting, and thought you might need a little help," she explains. "Did he hurt you?"

"Those women are fucking nuts!" We hear him shout. It's closely followed by Jerry, the club owner, grovelling after him.

"Mr Cohen, I am so sorry. Your drinks are free for the rest of the night."

"My arm's going to be bruised, but I'm okay," I respond to her question, trying to ignore Jerry's pathetic pleas. "Please don't put yourself in danger like that again," I scold, gently, squeezing one of her hands with gratitude.

"We've got to look after each other," she says, as I help her back onto her feet.

"Robbins," Jerry's voice is sharp and angry when he enters the room. "What the fuck just happened?"

"He... he wanted more than a dance," I say, shakily.

"How much did he offer?" He asks, irritated. Is he fucking kidding?

"Hey! She needs to go home!" Teddy interjects, assertively. "He practically assaulted her."

"You don't fucking tell me how to manage my staff," he says, pointing in her face. "Get back out there now," he throws a thumb over his shoulder and Teddy growls out in frustration as she exits the room. "And, you..." He says, turning his attention back to me. "You know how much money that man brings in each month?" I shake my head and look at the floor. "If you're going to reject him, it needs to be done carefully. Don't let this happen again!"

...

The last customers left at 4am. It was a steady night. All in all, I got about $500 in tips. It went straight to Jerry of course. In approximately two months, I'll have paid off my debt to him. Then, I can start to pursue what I really want to do.

Currently, my biology degree is in a frame, leaning carelessly against a wall, gathering dust in the apartment being rented by Teddy and I. Soon, I'll be using it to get myself out of this city and into Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. That's the dream, anyway. Teddy already has her Medical Degree. She's just waiting on a position in the army. The thought of her going anywhere near a warzone chills me to my very core. Especially, after what happened to my brother...

As I step out of the club and into the street, I shake the thoughts from my head, pulling my black trench coat closer to my body. It's cold tonight, but my home isn't far from here; six blocks away. As I pace speedily towards my building, I check my phone to see a couple of messages from Teddy and a missed call from Nick.

A sudden gasp escapes my body as I'm dragged backwards into an alleyway. A muscly arm is snaked around my torso and a sharp blade sits threateningly under my chin.

This is it; these are my final moments.

"Don't... make... a sound," the deep voice says, pointedly. It's Cohen. He throws me to the floor and puts the knife in his belt before pinning both of my wrists down. I try and struggle out of his grasp but he's too strong.

"Help!" I scream out desperately, in an attempt to get the attention of anyone. But, there's no one around.

"What the fuck did I just say?" He says, his huge hand grabbing the bottom half of my face, covering my mouth and squeezing my jaw tightly. A muffled cry escapes my throat and my breathing becomes fast and erratic. He uses his other hand to undo the belt on my coat and then slides it up my thigh and under my dress. As he touches me, the first tears appear in my eyes. I close them, trying to stop them from spilling down my cheeks. The rest happens quickly; he tears my underwear off, unzips his pants and forces his way into me.

I shut down. I try not to feel it. I think of anywhere else I could be right now. I create vivid pictures in my head; a beach with perfect white sand, a meadow full of flowers, a lake of clear water surrounded by snow-topped mountains, an untouched forest in fall.

It doesn't work. I still feel every excruciating moment. Every unwelcome thrust of his hips, every dreadful grope of my body... I feel it. The sound of his satisfied grunting fills my ears and silent tears I'd been fighting start to roll down my cheek. His overwhelming aftershave makes me nauseous and I already know the terrible scent isn't going to leave me for the foreseeable future. I squeeze my eyes together tightly and pray to whatever's out there that this stops soon.

It feels like hours... Hours of shameful, power-hungry torture. When he finally stops, I can't move. It's as though he's paralysed me. I remain glued to the cold, stone floor until he picks me up and slams me into one of the walls.

"You tell anyone about this and I will kill you." I know this is a promise. He's got too much to lose; his company, his connections, his wife... God, his poor wife. I open my mouth to respond but no sound comes out. This visibly frustrates him. He starts shouting, but it falls on deaf ears. I can't concentrate on what he's saying. He gets angrier and more animated but I still can't focus on anything in the present... Until he grabs the knife and drives it into my stomach. My eyes are wide and my mouth hangs open as I try to deal with the pain. Just as quickly, he pulls it out of my body and runs out of sight. I clutch my stomach at the wound and apply as much pressure as I can. It's not enough to stop the inevitable. Soon, everything turns black.