04~On The Run[1]

[Emily]

After spending the night thinking of what to do, I concluded that I needed to find him. It was the only thing I could think of at the moment.

I was scared of one thing, though: rejection. Would he deny the fact that this baby was his? I would only know the answer to that if I did find him. So I went to the club where I’d met him that night.

The place was noisy and filled with people, just like the first time I’d been there. A few people lay passed out on the ground. I tried my best not to step on any of them. Making my way to the bar, I sat on one of the stools just like the last time.

The bartender was serving a couple a few feet away from me. I turned to look at them and wished I hadn’t. The man had his back to me.

A woman with dark blonde hair had her arms around his neck while her lips were pressed against his. She made weird kissing sounds, making me want to get up and leave, but I remembered why I was there.

The bartender seemed used to this and served them their drink without sparing them a glance.

After he was done, he turned to me and smiled like the last time. I smiled back at him.

“Do you remember me?” I asked, moving closer so he could look at my face.

He stared at me, bewildered. Then he let out an ‘oh. ’

“Surprisingly, I do,” he said while frowning at me. I ignored the change in his expression and asked, “I need your help with something.”

He raised a brow and asked, “With what?”

Clearing my throat, I continued, “Do you remember the guy I met here the last time?” My voice was low as the words came out of my mouth. I didn’t want anyone to eavesdrop on our conversation.

“Surprisingly, I do. And I wish I didn’t, but I’m going to give you a piece of advice: leave.”

I stared at him, confused. “Why? Do you know where I can find him or get a number to call him on?”

Hissing, he crossed to the other side and dragged me to a storage room closer to the bar.

“Are you not listening to me? I said, Leave!” His grip on my hand was firm, and I tried to pry his hand off me, but it was useless.

“Why should I?” I yelled, not understanding what was happening.

Releasing my hand, he sighed and started pacing the room in deep thought. His actions confused me and scared me at the same time. What the hell was going on? Did he know him? Was the stranger someone not to be messed with?

He stopped pacing and turned to me. “ I’m a bartender,” he said as though I didn’t already know that. “My job is to serve drinks, okay?

I don’t involve myself in other people’s businesses, even if it’s right or wrong. You look like a nice young lady, so I will advise you to forget about this man and carry on with your life.”

Every word that came out of his mouth pissed me off. He did not know anything about me or what I was going through.

An inner voice warned me to pay heed to him, turn around and leave this goddamn club, but I ignored it.

“I have to meet him, damn it. I must meet him.”

He stared at me as if I were a fool. “Was the sex that good, bitch?” he spat out.

I gasped, shocked at the degrading words and what they implied. I was no wh*re!

“You have no right to speak to me this way, you jerk! I only asked for your help, not to spend a night with you.

If you won’t help me, then leave me alone.” I was so angry that it made me want to cry. How dare he say such words about me when he didn’t even know me or the reason why I was here?

Not apologising for his words, he spat, “Suit yourself then,” before leaving the room and going back to serve customers who were patiently waiting for him.

Coming out of the storage room, I passed through the crowd on the dance floor and made my way to an empty sofa at the back. Sitting down, I thought of what to do next as my eyes scanned through the crowd.

I sat there for a while, thinking, until a wave of nausea overtook me. I got up and rushed to the washroom, but it was too crowded. Having no other option, I rushed out the back door that led to an alleyway behind the club. I reached it just in time as I threw up against a wall near a big trash bin. I wiped my lips with my shirt sleeves after I was done.

It was something I’d never do on a normal occasion, but some situations called for drastic measures. Getting up from the ground, I turned to head back into the club when the door suddenly opened and scary, muscled men in black suits walked out.

There were about ten of them. I was a few feet away from them and not in plain view because of the trash bin and the dimly lit bulb, whose light rays didn’t even reach where I stood. What made me kneel and hide behind the trash bin was a lean man who had been dragged out by one of the men. His clothes were wet and bloodied.

He looked as if he could pass out any moment now.

Someone stood in front of the open door, watching out for anyone or probably waiting for someone to show up.

There seemed to be some sort of argument as voices rose in a heated exchange. I paid attention to what was being said, trying to understand what was going on. The men in black were asking the beaten-up man for the boss’s money.

The man only pleaded and asked for more time, to which he was given further injuries, if the groans that followed his pleas were an indication of that.

The situation didn’t look dangerous to me. Tired of waiting, I rose from the ground and almost came out from where I stood until I saw the man being shot twice in the head.

It happened so fast that there were no sounds, not even the sound of the gunshot or a painful cry from the man who now lay lifeless on the ground. I fell back to the ground and knelt, frozen in the tiny space as my hands shook slightly.

I tried to control the frantic beating of my heart as the sound of a body being dragged filled the air. I was too scared. I clutched my bag tightly, praying that I’d be able to leave there unharmed.

I peeked through the side of the trash bin and saw a van at the entrance of the alleyway. Its boot was opened, and the dead man was roughly carried and thrown inside as if he were nothing.

The men checked around the place, finding nothing unusual and slowly began to leave.

It seemed my prayers had been answered, and I’d be able to leave here still alive until ‘August’ by Taylor Swift filled the air.

I was going to die.