Last Night

Part 26

I guess I should feel relieved that I was escorted back to the first room by Mustache Man instead of Mr. Don't-Touch-My-Suit. His creeper vibe was through the roof and making my skin crawl. Not that being with his lackey was much better, but at least I didn't think I had to worry about him getting handsy with me before his boss had a chance.

Handsy, well, I guess technically I ought to be afraid. According to that wonderful security footage, I now knew what to expect from a monster like his boss and how he'd already been all over me.

My stomach turned at the thought of that creeper's sweaty hands gripping my chest and sliding down my thigh. I twitched as my body started dry heaving where I stood.

Mustache Man turned around to grab my arm, but I shied away from his touch and just used the non-mirrored wall to support myself.

He apparently didn't relish the idea of getting vomited on either so he held back and waited for my episode to pass.

Several heavy lumps hung in my throat even after my stomach stopped fighting back and my arms resembled a cactus with all the hairs on end.

"Let's go," Mustache Man finally said and clamped his hand around my wrist. He tugged me away from the wall.

If only my hairs would prick him like a thousand needles...

I refused to stumble into him or be dragged like some helpless child so even though my body wanted a break, I pushed it upright and shoved one foot in front of the other. This whole mess might be Ian's fault, but I would not rely on him to rescue me. He's done more than enough damage. Plus, who knew if I could really trust him not to eat me?

He did buy me after all.

I wonder when he was going to feel like bringing that up.

We stood before the door and I counted the seconds until he finally decided to open it. I considered pleading with him up until the moment I felt his hand slip behind my back and slide down to my butt. Then he pushed me inside the room.

"Knock if you need the bathroom," he said, staring after me with an obvious lustful eye. "And you may want to change your mind about telling us where Mr. Daniels lives. Mr. Blue will be back in a few hours to, uh, question you before this evening's appointments. If you still need further questioning, I'll offer up myself and my skills to get the answer he expects."

Then he slammed the door shut behind me.

"That's surprisingly kind of you," I muttered under my breath, partially afraid he'd come in if he caught wind of the snarky response. That was when the stench hit my nose. "Oh, shit. Nobody cleaned that up?"

The room was chilly so the smell could've been worse, but knowing I was going to be trapped in here for hours with that did not help reassure my stomach. If I was going to be honest with myself, nothing was reassuring to me other than I was definitely in the darkest time of my life.

Thanks Ian.

I should probably turn on the lights now. There was scheming to do and vomit to clean up and both of those are difficult to do when you can't see what's available to you.

With one hand covering my nose, I reached over and found the light switch. What a blessing! It worked. That was when I made my way over to the dresser. I half expected it to be filled with crack cocaine or something equally distressing and useless to me. But to my surprise, there was a collection of men's clothing, specifically collared shirts like what Mustache Man had on. A smile crept over my lips as I grabbed two of them and ran over to my smelly mess.

After wiping the area clean with those shirts and stuffing them back into the dresser, I felt vindicated as well as more clear-headed. Now I could try to find a way out of here and I had less than two hours to do it.