Page 61 of UNAwere

‘Oh my god, I love your hair!’

‘Thank you!’ I tell her. ‘I love your earrings!’ They’re big hoops with woven beads framing their circumferences.

‘Thanks, babe!’

I go into a stall and relieve myself. When I come back out, the women are gone, and I wash my hands, rubbing them across my face to try to rid the heat I can still feel in my cheeks. A part of me can’t believe I’m sitting in a bar with Jude Briggs, sharing beers and a cigarette, and learning more about his past. But another part isn’t surprised, after everything we’ve been through and the amount of time we’ve spent together these past eleven days.

‘Hey, you,’ a voice says when I’m leaving the bathroom.

They’re separated from the bar by large pot plants and a stylish screen. I stop in my tracks and turn to the source of the voice.

A man is standing by the entrance to the women’s bathroom. He’s tall and skinny, and I immediately smell the alcohol on him.

‘Oh. Hi.’

‘Don’t you look cute?’ he says.

‘Thanks.’

He smiles drunkenly, stepping forward. His stubble rasps against the inside of my wrist when he snatches my hand, rubbing his mouth along my skin.

I grit my teeth, feeling my entire being recoil, and pull my hand back.

‘Oh, um, let’s not do that,’ I say, trying to sound light-hearted.

‘You smell so fucking good,’ he says, voice slurred. He steps in closer. ‘You’re after a good time, aren’t you?’

‘Whoa. Uh, no, definitely not.’ I take a step back.

‘You should know better, then,’ he says. ‘Coming here, smelling like this. You’re just about ready to start.’

I screw up my nose, pushing at him again. ‘Can you please get away from me?’

‘Oh, c’mon… Let’s have some fun.’

I try to edge away, but he has me pressed up against the screen. There’s a plant in my face, and we’re fairly hidden from the main room. My heart starts to race. I feel my nails extend, my canines lengthening. But the man seems to take these signs as a signal to continue, because he groans and presses himself against me.

I suck in a breath, pushing at him.

‘Please, stop.’

‘Your scent isn’t telling me to stop.’ He opens his mouth against the hollow of my throat, exactly where Briggs did, and I revolt at the idea of any other man except that grumble bum of a bodyguard laving their tongue there.

‘Get off me!’

‘Shhh,’ he drawls. ‘It’ll be fun.’

His mouth opens again, but this time I feel the scrape of teeth. I try to push his face away. I don’t know what’s going on, but all I know, instinctually, is that he cannot bite me.

‘Stop!’

I push his head from me, covered in his foul-smelling saliva, and watch as he stumbles back from the screen. He hits the wall of the bathroom and lets out a huff, half-smiling, his eyes unfocused.

‘You’re no fun,’ he complains.

I skirt away while I have the chance, reeling as I try to wipe off his spit with my cardigan. I find myself in the bar’s main room, the loud music filling my ears. I glance around, vision blurry with tears, panting. My heart’s racing again, and I’m pressing my lips to stop the sobs clawing up my throat.

I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want the sanctity of a quiet room and a bed to burrow myself in. I make my way through the groups of bodies crowding the bar. It’s busier now, and there are people everywhere, so many scents, so many faces. I stumble to a wall that’s sitting in a dark corner and collapse against it, chest heaving.