Page 34 of A New Days Don

Panic.

Fear.

Pain.

All strike me at once. My vision fades in and out as I try to focus on the here and now. This reality. The dealer is waiting, head tilted curiously. The ground is covered in garbage and cardboard, even though there is a massive dumpster pressed against the wall of the adjacent building. The worn bricks fade to something more familiar. Blurred pale bricks stained red with my blood.

Massimo heads for the dark depths, but I stumble, my feet planting firmly into the sidewalk. He turns his head to face me, those coffee-coloured eyes burning with forbidden desire.

“No.” The word is simple and firm. Despite the panic flaring inside, I manage to keep my mind from fracturing at the reminiscent sight.

Massimo’s dark eyes burn as he glares down at me, “What do you mean, ‘No?’”

I look to my right to see a woman dressed in a skimpy pair of denim shorts that do nothing to cover her round bum and a white tank top that has been cropped to show off her mid-section. Her dyed red hair is long and wild in untamed curls. Her eyes meet mine with curiosity, making me feel more exposed than ever.

“You go with him. I’m going to chat with a few of the ladies on the corner over there.” I point to the street corner where the red-haired woman is currently standing, now muttering something to the group of women around her.

Massimo’s brows furrow and my stomach sinks. He looks ready to reject me, but, for the sake of the fragile seed of confidence that has taken shape, I don’t let him get a word in, “Buddy will be more interested in speaking without me, and I think I can convince these women to chat if they believe I am interested in their work.”

“No. We go together. This isn’t–” The moment I cut him off, Massimo gives me a deathly look, clearly not used to being shut down.

“What this isn’t, is my first rodeo dealing with criminals or sex workers. Go get your drugs and get him to talk. Meet me over at that corner when you’re done.” I shift under his intense gaze, my body buzzing with unshed energy.

“You do not leave that corner unless it is to come to me. You so much as walk to the other side of the road and I swear, Mila.” Massimo growls, his threat thickening the air around us. The last reaction I expect to have is one that pools warmth between my thighs.

My cheeks flush, embarrassed all over again, “Are you threatening me?”

“Test me, and we will see.” Is his only response. He slips into the shadows of the alleyway, leaving me to gawk at his retreating figure.

“I remember you,” The voice is soft, feminine, yet raspy from years of overuse or smoking.

I gasp, making Massimo turn, eyes meeting mine with caution. But when I brush him off, he continues whatever he is saying to the drug dealer. I turn to see the redhead who had been eying me from down the street. Pockmarks line her arms and chest from an adverse reaction due to drugs, but the scarring all looks old. I meet her jade-coloured eyes, stress lines gracing her soft face.

“Who are you?” I keep my voice steady as I take in her dishevelled presence.

She nods down the street, “Not here.”

It’s the opposite direction to where Massimo had ordered me to stay, but when the mystery woman disappears around the corner, I chase after her. Following her until we stop in front of a club. The raging music fills the busy street. Only it’s not any club. When I look up at the illuminated sign, my world tilts on its axis. I stumble, and the female grabs my arm to keep me standing.

Le Cochon Rouge

The Red Pig

I would remember that name anywhere. That name haunts my hazy and twisted nightmares. The same ones I wake screaming so hard my throat goes numb. It isn’t some generic name like Two Amigos or Jimmy’s Bar. It’s distinct and unforgettable, for it was the place where my world fragmented into tiny pieces, and I haven’t been able to put myself back together since.

“I knew it was you. Ya don’t forget a night like that.” The woman says, her voice sounding distant as I try to gather my footing. My reality feels more distant than ever, but when her hand grabs my bicep, it pulls me back to her.

I swallow the acidic bile rising up my throat as I pull my gaze from the taunting sign and to her frail features, “What do you mean?”

More watery noises come from her, and the ground seems to try to open up beneath me. I brace myself on the building, shuddering as faded memories try to resurface.

“Are you okay?” The redheaded woman takes a step back from me, eying me cautiously.

“You were there?” I whisper, my voice cracking. She nods. I try to sift through the noise in my head. I have a witness. She’s a witness. What do I do? What do I—

“Please, I don’t remember much from that night anymore. Can you tell me what you know? Everything and anything.” I gasp, the air not flowing into my lungs, no matter how hard I try.

“Years ago, I was paid for a quickie in the alley ‘round back. The man was drunk, and I was high on whatever I was given that night, but he slipped me a fifty, so I took him there. Before he could drop his pants, I seen ya layin’ there. I screamed, and the man ran. I carried ya to the nearest hospital, left ya there. I couldn’t go in with ya, or they woulda taken me in. I never knew what happened to ya.” She explains, but each word blurs into the next as my eyes dart between hers. She was there. She’s the one who brought me to the hospital.