Marnie groaned as she heaved air into the toilet, yet again. Withdrawal was a bitch.
“Marnie, are you okay?”
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling at the sound of Jessica's voice. What does this sneaky girl want? She'd been riding her ass all week, like they were Siamese twins tethered at the hip. Marnie teetered precariously on the edge of telling her to fuck off. She didn't want, nor need, a babysitter. With her skin crawling and the night sweats she'd been having, she just wanted to be left alone.
I will not smoke weird black tar.
I will not smoke weird black tar.
Not unless she bought a bag of it. She flushed the toilet and exited the stall. Ignoring the wide‐eyed stare the fair‐haired girl was giving her, Marnie turned the faucet on.
“Are you pregnant?”
She frowned at her in the large wall‐length mirror. No, bitch, I'm sick. I need fifty ccs of heroin stat. She smiled at her joke then shook her head in response to Jessica's question.
“What do you say to going out with me and the girls tonight?”
Dancing. Strobe lights and jiggling bodies pressing against each other flitted through her mind. Ugh. Any kind of movement made her want to go back into the stall to continue dry heaving.
“No thanks, I'll pass.”
“Is this because you're allergic to alcohol?”
Her lips twisted into a wry smile. So this is what he'd been telling them.
“Come on. You can come watch me get shitfaced. I hear I'm hilarious.” Jessica gave her a wide beauty pageant smile.
“Alright,” Marnie dried her hands, and then exited the bathroom.
She locked onto a pair of gray eyes and muttered an expletive under her breath. Danny leaned against the stucco wall. His lean body filled out a gray track suit. He pushed an elbow off the wall, blocking her advance.
She backed away from him, unsure of the flicker of fire dancing behind his eyes.
“How long do you plan on dodging me?” His lips quivered into half snarl, half smile. It was as if his body was literally at war with itself.
The stucco cut into her skin above the scoop of her tank top, as she backed deeper into the wall. His arm came up above her head, making it so she couldn't escape him this time.
“I'm not dodging you.” She'd been doing her best to make herself scarce.
Ever since she trekked to that alley, Marnie had been kicking herself. If Danny knew she'd gotten high, he'd make good on his promise and leave her in Miami. All she needed was a few more days to ride out the nausea, involuntary dripping of her nose, and the shake of her hands. All the signs that would scream to Danny she'd broken her promise.
His eyes combed her face, searching. She willed her nose not to run for a few seconds.
“We need to talk about where you went last week.”
“I told you, I went for a walk.”
“For three hours?” His thin eyebrows formed hills.
“I got lost.”
“Damn it, Marnie.”
She could feel the heat of his disappointment on her lips. Although she didn't want it to, a tear escaped, marking her cheek like a scarlet letter, branding her shame for him to see.
Please don't give up on me.
He opened his mouth again and she knew she was damned, but his lips snapped shut, and the fire extinguished from his eyes. He closed them as if he was deep in thought. For a moment they stood there, with only the sound of breathing to distinguish them from lifelike statues.
“I know things are tough, but you can talk to me.” His snarl turned into a soft smile and he pulled back out of her personal space. The breath she was holding escaped her lips.
“We're doing something amazing here, aren't we?”
She looked up. It wasn't a rhetorical question. The friendliness in his eyes made her want to believe, as he did, she could get sober. She nodded.
He touched her arm, and then joined her against the stucco.
“Marnie, I want to trust you, but you have to trust me as well.”
“I'm here, aren't I? Of course I'm trusting you.”
“Accepting, but not trusting. I'm not your keeper, but wandering off without telling me doesn't work for me. You're free to do whatever you want, but if you're tired of spending your life leaning over a toilet, you need to start trusting me.”
His hair fell into his eyes and something in her opened. She remembered the night she'd begged for his help. Put your hands in the life of someone else.
She opened her mouth, but the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut made her freeze. Jessica exited the bathroom and made a beeline for Danny.
“Hey, the girls are going out tonight. Do you want to come?”
Danny turned to Marnie. “Are you going?”
Marnie grabbed a black tank top covered in silver sequins and donned it over her jeans. Jessica eyed her when she entered the breakfast nook of the tour bus.
“Nice top, don't you have a skirt to go with it?” she wrinkled her nose and tilted her head sideways.
Marnie blanched and retreated back to her room.
“I'm so like her mother now, right?” she heard Jessica chuckle in a hushed tone.
Naw, she screwed her lips, my mommy wouldn't even let me douse you if you were on fire, bitch.
She scanned her duffle bag, trying to recall what Danny had bought on her shopping spree. She settled on a long, black, cotton A‐line dress, and a washed out blue denim jacket. Let them say what they want. She wasn't dressing to impress.
The other girls eyed her warily when she returned, but she stared through them.
Jessica threaded an arm through the crook of her elbow and whispered in her ear. “You look nice. Would you like me to braid your hair?”
Marnie arched an eyebrow. The humidity had warped her straight tresses into a frazzled mess. She supposed it would look better braided. “Do you know how to French braid?”
Jessica nodded and Marnie sat down to let Jessica's thin fingers play in her hair. Once Jessica was done, Marnie patted her head, admiring Jessica's handiwork in her compact mirror. Maybe Jessica was right. She did look halfway decent with the black dress and her hair twisted into a French braid that rested lazily over her shoulder.
Marnie followed the girls off the bus and piled into the SUV with the rest of the crew. Danny put a cigarette to his lips and flicked the ninety‐nine cent lighter. She froze. The sight of the yellow flame sent a chill up her spine. Her mouth watered as the cigarette glowed under the careful heat of the flame. She squirmed, her juices flowing. An image of the foil of heroin leaped into her mind. Her hands started twitching. She licked her lips, wiping back droplets of saliva forming at the corners of her mouth.
“Are you alright?” Danny mouthed after taking the cigarette from his lips. His eyes formed slits and the smooth, tan skin on his forehead folded. She thought of the kiss that had left her dizzy. Why did he have to be so damn beautiful?
Tonight, a silk pullover hid the olive‐toned chest. A pair of black jeans and red and white sneakers completed the ensemble. A simple white‐gold bracelet adorned his wrist.
Marnie blinked, turning her attention to the window. The last thing she needed was for Danny to realize she was sick. If she could ride it out for three more days, she would be fine.
The seat groaned when Danny switched seats with Jessica. He now sat next to her. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“Is this a trigger for you? You can stay at the hotel. You don't have to go.”
Marnie shrunk under his inquisitive eyes. “I'm fine,” she said, returning her attention to the window. Danny resettled in the seat and patted her thigh. Bile rose in the pit of her stomach and she squirmed out from under his hand, scooting closer to the window.
Sitting across from Marnie and Danny, Candace bubbled with enthusiasm. “Okay crossed fingers,” Candace said, “that there will be some ballers in here tonight. Otherwise the kitty is staying in.”
“Ugh!” Jessica groaned. “Why don't you just put on a string bikini and place a sign on the kitty, that says, ‘will fuck for money'?”
Candace whipped her head around, casting an annoyed glance at Jessica. “You make it sound like I'm a gold digger.”
“I'm with Candace. If he can't afford it, he can't ride it,” Danny chimed.
“Thank you, Danny.” Candace grinned.
“So gold digger, how many drinks will it take to ride the kitty?” Danny said. His eyes swam with mirth and everyone chuckled at his joke.
Candace's mouth fell open and she mouthed, “Thought you were with me?”
“For me, it is not about money. I actually have to like a guy before he gets the kitty,” Jessica said.
“Oh, you want romance?” Candace rolled her eyes at Jessica.
“Not necessarily, more like love.”
“Fuck love and money. If you don't know what you're doing when it's time to go to bed, don't be surprised when I don't call you,” Danny said.
The male crew let out some wolf howls and every man gave Danny high fives.
“Sex is overrated,” Marnie muttered.
Like a scratched record, everyone stopped talking and looked at her. Marnie hunched down like a wounded puppy, avoiding their stares and resumed looking out the window.
“So as I was saying,” Candace resumed.
When they arrived at the night club, everyone except Danny and Marnie exited the van. As she got up, Danny rested a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back down. She shrugged his hand off.
“In your line of work, I imagine saying sex is overrated would be bad for business.” A sly smile lay on his lips, but an unspoken question lurked in his eyes.
Marnie glared at him and grabbed his shirt collar, bringing his face within inches of her own.
“Look,” she jabbed a finger in his face. “Don't sit here making jokes about me like you know me.”
“Okay,” Danny said softly. He held his hands up in surrender. Marnie released his collar and proceeded to exit the van, but not before he muttered under his breath. “You're a little nutty, aren't you?”
Marnie closed her eyes, breathing in the heavily blanketed scent of perfume and acrid smoky aroma of the club. I will not smoke. I will not smoke. Under her lids the highlight reel of last week's incident played on repeat. She saw herself flicking the lighter and drawing in the smoke.
Drink. You'll be fine after you've had a drink. She opened her eyes and weaved through the crowd, making her way toward the bar. The bartender made eye contact and she started to holler for the woman to give her a double whiskey but then remembered Danny's lame cover story. Curse him. She ordered a virgin margarita instead. In three gulps she downed the citrusy drink, smacked her lips as she enjoyed the salty rim, then raised her finger for another.
“Put it on my tab, Gabby.”
She gave the customer next to her a tight smile and sipped the second drink.
“Tough night?” He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair.
She looked at his ring finger, noting the lack of a wedding ring and the manicured nails meant he had disposable income. The lines on his face and sag of pale skin pegged him at forty years of age. Forty meant he would take twice the time to reach his pleasure as a twenty‐year‐old, which meant double the rate. But she caught herself, relieved to remember this wasn't her job anymore.
“More like month. I've been on tour for seven weeks.”
He looked at her and pointed to his ear. Marnie tried again, but he still had a puzzled look on his face. He got up and leaned over. She repeated herself for the third time into his ear.
“Well, maybe tonight I can help you put away your frustrations.” He tugged her hands toward the dance floor. “Come on, let's dance.”
“I don't dance,” she said, jerking her hands out of his grasp.
He stood back, swiveling his hips to the left and right, before he came behind her and grabbed her waist, his pelvis grinding against her.
“It's all in the hips,” he murmured.
Her mouth went dry, and she cringed at the feel of his jeans rubbing up against her.
“I don't want to dance.” She tried to move forward, but the grip on her hips tightened.
“Baby, just follow my lead.” He grabbed her around the waist and pressed her up against him. Sweat seeped through his silk shirt.
“Mmm,” he moaned in her ear.
He was getting hard underneath her. She looked around, but no one was paying attention to them. Fear leaped into her throat and she felt herself separating. Her body was there for sure, but she was on the outside looking in, and she realized this guy was going to nut on her at the bar. As if to agree with her, he ground into her harder and faster.
“Please,” she squeaked.
“Dude, if you don't back off right now, I'll crack this bottle over your head.” The voice came from the dance floor. Jessica approached them wielding an empty beer bottle.
Marnie's dance instructor stopped mid‐grind, held up his hands and walked past Jessica onto the dance floor. Marnie let out a sigh and collapsed against the bar.
“Are you alright?” Jessica said.