My stomach dropped. “He’s here?”
“In the basement,” he answered. “So…I don’t really get it ’cause yer tits don’t look nearly as big as the girls at the strip club, but Nick gets what he wants so…let’s go.”
“No.”
The word was out of my mouth before I really considered the ramifications. The stupid oaf took several seconds to process what I’d blurted out. When he did, he moved fast. He rounded the corner of my bed as I crawled atop it to get away. There was nowhere to go except the corner. He’d beat me to the door should I run for it.
“Nick’s top dog around ’ere,” the man grunted as he clamoured toward me across the bed. “And I’m gonna get on his good list by bringing him a little treat and yer not—”
His hands reached toward me. I pressed myself in closer to the corner of my room, praying I disappeared into the peeling wallpaper. I could smell the liquor on his breath, practically taste the sweat on his fingertips. I braced myself.
The doorbell rang as the tip of his finger brushed my neck, making me recoil.
He pointed a beefy finger at me, jabbed it between my tits.
“Yer not goin’ anywhere. D’ye hear me?”