Her gentle Beast

The danger of the streets

*Isadora*

As I walk past his now empty table I notice two fifty dollar bills stuck under the empty glass. I smile to myself and pick up one of them, folding it and slipping it in my pocket.

“They are both yours”. I hear Rob’s voice behind me, as he starts washing the table next to it.

“He left me a hundred dollars, for three drinks ?” Is this a way to show me how nice he would be to me if I said yes to his illicit proposition ?

“He likes to tip the staff, that’s just how he is”. Rob says with a shrug.

I hesitantly pick up the other fifty. “Did he tip you too ?”

“Yup, I got a hundred too”.

Okay so he is not making a difference, that is a plus in my book. He had stayed at the table up till closing time today. But I had noticed him checking his phone quite often, like he wanted time to go faster and the evening to end. But I mean he could just have left, no one was keeping him here.

And why did he keep looking at me ? I mean it wasn’t in a way that made me uncomfortable, which I easily get when men ogle me. It had been rather subtle actually and I don't even think anyone else noticed. But from the moment he walked in his eyes had left a feeling of a gentle touch, gracing over my cheek, caressing the nape of my neck, brushing over my lips.

I had been sure he would bring up his offer again when I brought him the third tequila after he had signaler me to and I had been ready to tear him a new one and make sure he would never ask again, but to my surprise he hadn’t uttered a word, he just smiled at me as I put the glass down.

But that gaze, like he could read my mind and pull every secret from the depth of my soul.

I just know that he had me blushing badly, which annoys me to a great extent and I almost hoped he would bring up the offer, just so I could focus on being angry with him. I have gotten plenty of offers like that here at the bar, most of them from men who had gotten one too many drinks. But he had not had a single drop of alcohol, not here at least, and he seemed sober, so I can’t even excuse him with being too drunk to moderate himself. What hurts the most when men act like that is the lack of respect.

Why do I even care ? Castor has said from the start thatna girl like me working in a bar in the poor part of town is sure to get all manners of offers. I started out trying two other jobs before taking this job. First I was a bag girl at a supermarked, but the man owning the store kept brushing accidentally up against me and asked me to come into his office to talk about ways I could get promoted. So I kinda found myself fired for my hand accidentally brushing hard against his face. The other one was at a dry cleaner, but turns out I suck at sewing on buttons and things like that.

I do hate the unwanted attention from men that I get here, but at least the salary is better than the other places and the rest of the staff and the owner are really sweet.

My parents would have hated this, but it is not like my father left me with many options. No pack will hire me as a nanny or servant, not after what my father did. To the pack wolves me and my brothers are all pariahs whom they prefer to see disappear forever.

When we are done getting the bar ready for tomorrow we all follow the usual routine of locking up and saying goodnight before I make my way out into the street. Like last night I am hit with worry and disappointment as Castor again turns out to be a no show. I can’t help but wonder what he is so busy with that he is forgetting me and our agreement that he is to pick me up. I swear to myself that I won’t stop asking before he tells me, when he shows up that is.

I am sure it is more of a risk to just stand around, so I start walking briskly down the street. I do however pull the small dagger from my bag, mostly because it makes me feel more safe when I hold it in my hand. Just like yesterday I get that weird feeling of someone gently touching me in a protective way.

Not even pausing my steps, I turn to walk backwards as I peer into the darkness and shadows. There is no one there as far as I can see, but I can’t shake the feeling of someone observing me.

Whipping my body back around I lengthen my strides and quicken my pace. My knuckles are going white from gripping the knife so hard. Hopefully Castor will make an appearance at any minute now. Even a taxi would be a welcome sight, I would happily spend some of my tips to get driven home safely.

I can’t help looking behind me for every few steps, but there is still no one to be seen. Seriously I need to stop worrying, it’s Castor’s fault with all his warnings, leaving me near paranoid. He was against me taking a shift that ends this late, but it was the only one available.

Without warning my wrist is grabbed, fingers digging into my tendons and an arm wraps around me like a steel wire.

With a panicked scream,still on my lips I am pulled into a dark alley. So I do the only thing I can to try and save myself by slashing the knife after my attacker, feeling nauseous when I feel it strike something.

“Oh no you didn’t b***h. You made me bleed”.

As my head connects with the hard wall I feel like a cartoon character seeing stars. Pain, fear and dizziness mixing into a weird feeling of not really being here. My legs turn to jelly and I feel myself fall.

From what sounds like far away, maybe in another dimension I hear a deep feral growl. Then a weird sound … wood splintering ? Then a grunting sound and footsteps coming closer.

Something big and warm … a hand ? Gently slides beneath my head. “Hey beauty hold on, stay with me”.

His voice is on the edge of desperation and I feel a need to do as he tells me, but darkness pulls at me and I can’t fight it.