"I don’t wanna do this," I repeat.
"You’ll love it," Mick says in my ear. "You’ll love having all your tiny holes stuffed." His hands are still on my breasts, pawing. Asshole doesn’t even know what to do with a woman’s body.
It's then that a surge of clarity pierces the drunk fog in my brain. The full magnitude of what they're proposing hits me. Gang rape. That's what this is.
Panic rises in my throat, my heart slamming against my ribs. I can't do this. I won't! With a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, I swipe Mick's hands away and lunge for my dress and Cruz’s laminate on the floor.
"What the fuck, Wends?" Jett shrieks as I elbow him in the stomach.
"What the fuck, Jett?" I blurt out, taking a step back.
My eyes dart to Mick, who’s observing us with cool indifference.
Clem is laughing while sipping on a beer. "Real feisty, that one," he comments.
"Relax, baby girl," Mick says, unbuttoning his shirt and taking a step in my direction.
I glance around the bus nervously while clutching the dress and the band pass. I have to go through Jett and Mick to get to the door.
"I’m leaving," I declare and start walking.
Jett puts himself in my path and grabs at my shoulders. "You’re not. We’re gonna have some fun."
"It won’t be fun for me." My tongue feels heavy, and I don’t sound like myself. The part of me that’s scared understands that I’m at a disadvantage here, and if they want to fuck me, they will, and there’s not much I can do about it. But my drunk mindalways likes to make everything attainable, and my focus is on the door.
"It’s not like you’re a fucking virgin, Wends," Jett slurs.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I shove at his chest with my fist to put some sort of distance between us. My head’s spinning and I’m shaking. It’s the fear and the anger that’s raging through me. "You want that fucking vodka deal so bad? Huh, Jett? So bad you’d let those stupid jerks gang-rape me?"
"Whoa, whoa, honey, don’t call things what they aren’t," Clem's voice drifts lazily from the couch, thick with false calmness.
"We’re all adults here," Jett adds, leaning in my direction. "Just having a good time."
"You." I stab my finger at him, but my heartbeat is fast and uneven, and it’s hard to speak all of a sudden. "You’rehaving a good time." I spin around toward Mick, who dares to inch closer. "And you! Don’t you fucking dare touch me again."
The air is so taut with tension that even the leather couches seem to exhale unease. Jim Morrison's gravelly hymn wafts from the hidden speakers, dancing against ears that are already too raw from shouting disputes. Every surface feels sticky—a blend of old whiskey spills and unspoken threats lingering beneath fingertips. And there's a pungent scent—cigarettes smoldering down to ghosts of themselves, mixed ominously with something sharper—sinister sweetness that’s almost like betrayal distilled into aroma.
"I think you should chill, Wends," Jett speaks.
Mick, the old crank, nods toward the table, where a solitary white line of cocaine waits to be sniffed. "Why not take the edge off, darling? It’ll feel better."
"Shut up!" I snap, needing a moment of silence to put my thoughts together. My eyes dart around the bus, measuring thenarrow spaces on either side of Jett’s frame. He’s not a big guy. I can easily knock him down. A knee to his balls and I’m free.
"Don’t be a difficult cunt, beautiful," Mick hisses. "Your boy here said you’re cool."
"I told you to shut up!"
I need to get out of here. I can’t breathe, and I won’t be able to stand on two feet for much longer. I can feel the pull of gravity amplified by the effects of the alcohol.
Jett says something else, but I'm not listening anymore. I snatch a half-empty bottle of beer from the table and crack it against the edge. Glass shatters. Beer spills to the floor and onto my boots.
"The fuck, Wends!"
"Hey, there’s no need for that," another voice says. I can’t tell if it’s Mick or his sidekick. My vision is swimming. They’re all just blurred shapes now, sounding like robots.
I punch out the broken bottle into the empty space in front of me. "I’ll fucking maim you if any of you motherfuckers tries anything."
I press the dress and the laminate to my chest and make a break for the door. Sheer terror propels me forward, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Jett's furious shouts chase after me as I burst out of the bus and sprint through the cool night air, wearing nothing but my bra, panties, and boots. But I don't stop running. I can't. All I know is that I have to get as far away from that nightmare as I can.
