Agastopia

“Please continue, Lavender.”

It is then that I realize I've stopped dancing. I think I'm on verge of a claustrophobic attack. Without saying anything, I turn for the door, ready to leave and get as fast away from him as possible.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” he says, and I snort and grab the door handle. “Try me.”

“If you leave, you will earn no money. If you stay... Well, you know how well I pay for something I want.” his words stop me in my tracks, and I absolutely hate it.

“What are you doing here, Jim?” I ask, still not looking at him.

»I think I should be asking you that.«

»Tell me or I will call security.« I snap and finally look at him, to see a half-smile of his face. He leans forward. »I see you've grown some thorns. After all, I hear you've become Poison Ivy. You're not my innocent Lavender anymore.«

He sits up like he’s about to make a deal. »I want you back with me.«

»Go to hell-»

»Not now. Eventually. Now I'm happy if you just talk to me.«

»I don't give a shit if you're happy or not.«

He ignores anything I say and stands up. With his long legs, he's next to me in a couple of strides. He runs his hand through my hair. »Holy fuck, you're even more gorgeous than when you were with me. I didn't think that was possible.«

»Don't touch me.«

He runs his hand down my cheek and I grab it and twist it. »I said don't fucking touch me.«

He winces. »I can't believe I hurt you so much that you became a stripper.«

I snort and push his hand away. »You think this is because of you?« I can't help the laugh that escapes my mouth. »You poor little thing. How horrible your life has to be when your ego is three times the size of you.«

He ignores me. »I can help you. You don't have to do this. I don't want you dancing for other people. You can come back to live with me, and all will be forgiven and forgotten.«

»I don't need anyone to help me.« I hiss and he smiles. The feeling of ridicule and inferiority gathers in my chest like it always did when he smiled like that. It makes me want to vomit. Or cry. Or both.

»You're still stubborn. There might still be my old Lavender hiding in there.«

I can't help it. I shove him away from me, and he stumbles on his feet. For a moment, he seems almost afraid of me.

»Oh, baby.« he says. Then, still not having learned his lesson, he comes onto me, pinning my wrists to the door and pushing his face inches from mine. »You've got an edge. I love it. It's hot.«

I look away from him, my heart racing from anger and fear combined. He sniffs my skin. »The things I'm gonna do to you...«

I narrow my eyes. »Yeah. I don't think you will.« I look him in the eye and shove my knee up his crotch as far as I can. He yells out and bends over, and I kick him again into the ribs for good old times. »For better or for worse, right?«

»You fucking bitch!«

The door swings open and David barges into the room and looks at me, alarmed. »You okay?«

»No.« I shake my head. I don't have to fake being upset. »He came onto me, really aggressive. I could barely get him off of me.«

»Don't fucking lie!« Jim shouts, but David's already handling him. He doesn't bother with a warning – he's not really good with words. Jim shouts out again when his hands are pinned behind his back. »She's a fucking psychopath! She attacked me!«

David tightens his grip. »Shut the fuck up. And don't lie about her.« He smiles at me. »Marissa's the sweetest girl here.«

I smile back and watch him take out my husband.

***

"See you tomorrow, Marissa." Sasha kisses my cheek as I walk out. David stands by the entrance of the back door, supervising the situation. The watchers almost never appear in the back because you cannot get here from the front of the building, you need to move around the entire block. Still, it's a precaution I approve of.

The night is fresh and clear and the air feels good on my skin. I pull my hoodie over my head and make my way towards the apartment. It's only a five minute walk so I usually walk. Besides, there are very few people, if any, outside at three in the morning. The sound of wind is interrupted by a deep male voice which immediately ruins the good mood of finishing your workday.

»Lavender.« Oh, fucking hell.

»Jim, I'm really tired. Go away.« I say, immediately annoyed. I continue walking, but hear his steps follow me.

»No. I'm not you. I don't just let people go. I have a heart.« he's slurring his words, obviously drunk. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. “Do you have any idea how much respect I lost when you left me? People just assume something’s wrong with me if my wife disappeared. And it’s logical they did. You’ve single-handedly ruined my reputation.”

Of course this isn’t about me. It never was. I was never a person. I was an asset, an accessory that would help him on his way to becoming even richer than he was.

»Are you listening to me?« he asks, and I pick up my step, but hear him pick up the pace, too. A very slight feeling of panic rushes through me and I try to calculate if David might still be outside the building if I change the direction and head back.

The chance is very slim – I was almost the last girl out.

»Stop, Lavender. Tell me why you left.«

»I'm calling the cops if you don't stop following me.«

»Why the fuck did you leave me!?« he shouts and I almost fall. Knowing that my apartment is really close, I grip my keys in my pocket and start to run, but somehow, he manages to catch up to me. I blame my short ass legs.

His hand wraps around my wrist and he harshly yanks me toward him. »I'm taking you back with me.« he declares and I feel blood rush from my head and the adrenaline release in my veins.

»The hell you are.«

He starts pulling me with him, and my instinct kicks in as I punch him straight in the nose. He groans and lets me go when he takes a step back. I turn around and start sprinting away, but don't get too far before his arms wrap around my waist and lift me up harshly. His grip is so tight that I cannot free myself, no matter how much I trash around. "Let me go!"

He laughs in response and says: "Shut the fuck up." My frantic brain is working a hundred miles an hour, trying to think of a way to stop him.

And then, I'm no longer in Jim's grip. I look around, alarmed, and see a very tall and broad man, dressed in all black, with a hoodie over his head and his mouth covered by a black cloth. He has a certain type of energy around him that keeps me taking steps away from him. He's terrifying.

The man grabs Jim's hand and judging by the sound Jim makes, either breaks it or almost breaks it. »Fuck!« Jim swings at him, but he stands no chance, and then, the man pulls out a gun and shoots him in the forehead.

Cold shock overflows my body and I cover my mouth to dim the sound of my scream. The man looks at me and his eyes meet mine. One green and one blue, I feel like they look straight into my soul.

I turn on my feet and run away, terrified.