Part 11- Biscuit by Portishead
His grip on my arm was tight, so tight that it seemed I could feel his fingerprints molding into my skin, and he held me close enough that his eyelashes nearly grazed mine as he looked down at me. My comfort level had dropped way below zero and was still plummeting.
I pulled back slightly, ignoring his question and searched the crowd frantically for Abby with my eyes. What was he doing here? How had he found out about me? How did he find me? He had to know I was up to something if he was here, right? Maybe Sammy wasn't as sincere as he had seemed. He worked in a rundown bar on the wrong side of town, after all. Why should I be surprised?
So stupid! I mentally yelled at myself.
The crowd pulsed leisurely around us in the brief absence of sound, forming a tight cocoon where only Billy and I stood still. I couldn't see anything beyond. I thought about fighting him, bringing my knee up into his crotch and the heel of my hand into his nose. I also thought about screaming bloody murder, which was my first instinct, but I had managed to rein it in, barely.
"I wouldn't worry about your friend," he whispered in the still of the crowd. "My boys are taking good care of her."
I tried to jerk my arm from him, but stopped short as his grip tightened and he jerked back. A slow song with heavy bass poured out through numerous speakers that sent tremors throughout the multitude of bodies, passing vibrations from one finger tip to the other.
"That also means you take my offer for a dance," he said, warning bright in his eyes and I knew what he meant. Do as he said or there would be consequences for both Abby and me. I didn't have to see the two guys she had been trying to point out earlier for me to picture what they looked like now. I knew who they were all too well, and my heart rattled clumsily at the thought of her near any them.
"Where is she," I demanded, pulling my hand of the arm he still clutched to my chest. His eyes flashed technicolor under the strobe lights and it set off a feral blaze in them.
"You should know. She's your friend, isn't she?" He smirked as his fingers pried themselves lose of my aching bicep and pulled both my arms up around his marked neck. His right hand pressed against the middle of my back and the other gripped the bottom of my shirt, his fist digging into the bottom of my spine. He started to move along with the song, sticking his knuckles hard into my back when I didn't. I winced.
"It doesn't have to hurt as long as you don't resist. Make this easy on yourself, Ramona. At least for your friend's sake."
I didn't know what to do. I almost answered him with questions such as: "What are you talking about?" or "I don't know you, how do you know me?" and also, "Do you really think girls go for the abusive, gang banger act? So far, it hasn't done a damn thing for me except some partial bruising, and I don't feel myself about to swoon." I decided the dumb act wouldn't abet the predicament I was in and neither would me being a smartass. I bit my tongue and very hard.
"Dance," he demanded, his strong hands emphasized his command roughly. I bit my tongue harder as I complied, moving slowly with him. I felt disgusted physically, mentally, and emotionally. I remembered how sickened I felt to be near him when he had my hair tightly wrapped around his fingers, forcing my head back as the machete pressed against my throat. This was worse because I had less of a choice then than I did now. I could get him off of me if I wanted, but I had to think of Abby. Her life may be relying on me whether she realized it or not. I wouldn't risk it.
He didn't say anything, and I was too afraid to speak up, worried I might ask or say the wrong thing. His eyes never left mine and we glared murderously at each other. My hands balled up into fists around the collar of his shirt as the song continued and I felt myself getting lightheaded; I wouldn't be able to take much more of this.
"I think we may have some unresolved conflict between us," he breathed into my face, "and I don't know how you plan to settle it, but if it's a fight you want, I'm more than willing to give it to you."
"You're so arrogant to believe I want just you?" I finally found my voice. He didn't seem caught off guard, or anymore crack-brained angry for that matter, as he smirked down at me.
"Well, if we had met under different circumstances, I'm sure I would be."
"I highly doubt the circumstances would have to be different for me to feel the same way."
"That's exactly it, Ramona," he had me by the nape of the neck now, burying his fingers in my flesh. "They don't have to be different in order for you to be the same stupid bitch you were almost a year ago. You see your friend killed and you're messin' with the exact men who did it. Do you think yourself an intelligent person?"
"I don't think intelligence equals into it."
"What does? Cold, hard vengeance? You wanna play rough with the big boys, sweetheart?"
"I want back what you took from me."
"And what is that exactly, your innocence? Peace of mind?" He stopped moving and so did I. He brought his face closer to mine, his beard brushed against the side of my jaw and his breath was hot on my neck, "I don't give back what I take, but if you want compensation for your loss…," he stopped and his fist loosened from my shirt, dropping down below my waist. I went rigid as his hand slid down my thigh just below my skirt. He let out a deep chuckle, "I know more than a few ways to repay you."
I pushed against his chest fiercely, gaining temporary freedom before he pulled me back to him, smashing his mouth against my ear.
"You fuck with me and I'll kill your fuckin' friend and your family! You hear me? I've got enough problems without some bitch, hell-bent on petty revenge, trying to pick a fight with me and my boys! You don't wanna fair reparation, that's fine. Stop coming around my neighborhood, looking for us like you're begging for trouble or you might just end up worse than your fuckin' little friend!"
"Fuck you! I'll fucking kill you and your piece of shit friends!" I screamed, sobbing helplessly. I was losing it and I couldn't sustain the control I had earlier.
"Nah, baby. You're on my side of the track now. I say who lives, I say who dies. This isn't your war anymore," he growled, giving me one last derisive grin before pushing me away, making me stumble backwards into a group of people. He broke his way through the swarm of the dancing crowd, disappearing.
I rushed through the crowd, desperately searching for Abby everywhere. We had to get out of there and now. I was losing my composure. Livid and hysterical at the same time, I stumbled around the club calling Abby's name. A few people gave me weird looks, but most just assumed I was piss-ass drunk and laughed me off.
I needed to calm down. I couldn't let Abby see me this way. I didn't want her to know anything was wrong. I wouldn't let her in on anything that was happening. I had to keep her as safe as I possibly could and telling her about what had just happened just a mere few feet away from wherever she was would not be protecting her. I swiftly found my way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face several times. I leaned against the counter, gathering any morbid reason I had for going on with my life and dried my face.
Don't think like that, you have a reason for living and you know it, I thought. A throe of sadness swept through me when I realized that it was neither my family nor friends anymore. I walked back out into the club.
"Abby!" I screamed when I saw her walking away from the bar and towards the dance floor. She was alone.
"Mona! Where were you? I looked everywhere for you!" Abby looked furious that she hadn't been able to find me. She had no idea I had been going crazy knowing she had been with a couple of Billy's guys. Thank God she hadn't left with any of them.
"Listen, I think we should go. I drank too much and got sick," I lied to her, hoping she'd see how sick I really felt.
"Oh, okay. I'll get us a cab. Come on," she grabbed my arm and helped me outside as she dialed for a taxi on her cell phone. When she had made the arrangement, she pulled me to the side of the club, leaning me against it. Cool air blew around us and dried some of the sweat that poured off of my body.
"You look horrible, Mona. I'm so sorry. You should have let me know earlier," Abby said as she brushed some damp curls from my face.
"Did you talk to those guys?"
"What guys?" A confused expression came across her face.
"The ones you went to talk to while I danced," I continued taking in deep, ragged breaths.
"Oh, yeah! Yeah, I talked to them. They were really nice, but kinda scary at the same time. Both had that bad boy thing going on, you know? Sorta hot."
"You didn't exchange information with them or anything did you? You didn't go off with them?" I didn't know why I was asking. If they really wanted to get to her, they'd find their own way.
"I got their numbers," she whipped out her cell phone again. "The older guy had a weird name, Heco. The other guy's name was Joe. Wanna see a picture of them?"
"What? You took a picture of them?" I asked, grabbing the phone from her. I looked at the screen to see Abby standing between two men, smiling happily and completely oblivious to the fact that she stood between the exact men who had killed our late friend, Delia. I recognized the thin man as Joe on the left; he wore a smug grin that looked just like his dumbass brother's. The other man, apparently Heco, I had not known exactly what he looked like until now. He was of Hispanic decent, with a bald head, goatee, and tattoos matching Billy's. He did not smile and his eyes were hard. He had an arm wrapped around Abby's waist, his free hand faintly flipping the phone off; I figured it was directed towards me. My hand tightened around the phone.
"Hey, easy on the merchandise. I told you to come talk to them with me!"
"Abby, don't ever call those guys. Don't answer their calls. Don't have anything to do with them. Do you understand?"
"What?" she gave me a confused look.
"Just do as I say. Those guys look dangerous and after what happened to Delia… I just don't want you to get hurt either. Please, promise me," I pleaded with her, taking her hands.
"Okay, I won't," she promised, looking hurt and worried. She fiddled with her cell phone for a moment before showing me she had deleted both their numbers and the picture of the three of them. "See? Are you okay?"
"Yeah… I just need to go home," I sighed, closing my eyes and fighting back the urge to vomit.
There would be serious hell to pay. Billy Darley and his gang weren't going to threaten my friends and family with the intention of getting away with it. I already let something happen once, and though I wasn't strong then, I sure as hell was now. Billy thought he had the blunt end of the blade, but in reality I was right there with him, pushing my own sharpened point directly towards his cold-blooded heart. I wasn't going to wait any longer.