“You did it…” I could barely talk, let along call her a fucking bitch.
Next thing, someone was practically carrying me to the back of the stage, where a man in a suit, smelling of strong cologne, held open a chequebook.
“This is—”
I interrupted Tania and spat out, “Satan. That’s who you are. You drugged me.”
“Obviously not enough it seems.”
“What did you give me?” My raised voice slurred.
“He’ll look after you. He’s a reliable regular.” Her honied voice made me want to slap her, but my arms felt like rubber. “Who knows, you might even like it.” From nice in that kindly aunt way to being a scheming, betraying bitch, Tania’s face had turned hard and ugly.
I stepped out of my heels, so I could stand up without swaying.
“I need to get my bag,” I slurred.
Tania followed me into the dressing room.
Cursing at my blind stupidity for taking those drinks, I struggled to walk. My legs had become anchors as the room spun.
Tania held out an envelope with cash, but when she saw me leaning against the bench, propping myself up, she slipped the cash into my bag.
I opened my mouth to say something when the stranger with the strong cologne joined us. His shoes creaked and his tie dangled onto my skin as he leaned close.
I shook as his wrinkled finger grazed my shoulder. His face went all blurry.
Clutching my bag, I had to stay alert, despite heavy eyelids begging me to curl up into a ball and sleep. But the stench of danger kept my blood pumping. That predacious, suffocating mix of cologne and depraved hunger thickened the air. Strangling fear squeezed my vocal cords, because for a minute, I thought I was in my childhood bedroom.
I picked up one of my shoes to use as a weapon, and when he turned to speak to Tania, I rushed out of the room and down the dark hallway towards the glowing exit sign.