His gaze was cold, emotionless, and calculating as he studied me. A growing sense of unease flooded my body, making my pulse pound and my respiration increase. There’d been thinly veiled statements from him lately, pressure to do things that I’d been able to deflect, but didn’t know for how much longer.

When we first met he’d been kind, and I’d believed there’d been something worth having between us, but now I was just as certain it’d been wishful thinking. I’d been wrong about so many things.

One thing I was sure of- guys just wanted a piece of me. They would say or do what they needed until they got it, and then they were gone.

Bryan was the first to make me feel that way. I never realized how much I needed and took his approval for granted until it was withdrawn. My throat clogged remembering his callous dismissal of what I’d thought we shared.

What a stupid little girl I’d been.

Never welcome.

Never wanted.

My mother had been right all along.

A part of me, the part with dreams, the beautiful part, had been snuffed out by darkness. Fear had replaced hope and apathy had replaced fear until all that remained was this empty frame, a place card for the woman I’d once been, still pretty to look at, but hollow inside.

Martin grabbed my shoulders, squeezing just hard enough to hurt. I looked up at him, gritting my teeth together, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. I’d had to adapt quickly to survive his sadistic streak. He enjoyed breaking people down so he could control them. Most of the time he didn’t get physical, as long as I didn’t show weakness. It was strength he admired. My backbone. What remained of it anyway, that he respected.

“I’ve got some China White coming in tonight.” His coal black eyes searched mine. “I’ll bring you a bindle.”

“Alright.” My lips curved up into a thin caricature of a smile.

His answering grin was a travesty as well, feral and predatory. He didn’t even try to hide his disdain for me as he went out the door. Why should he? He had me. He knew that. He always seemed to know everything. Just like he’d known how susceptible I’d be to him and his brand of fake charm the first night we’d hooked up together.

I’d had an idea who Martin Skellin was before that night. His reputation had always scared me away, but after being tossed aside by everyone I’d ever trusted, I hadn’t really cared what happened to me or who I did it with.

I should have…

because although Martin was attentive in the beginning, using his influence to get me a job singing at a local club, his true colors began to bleed through shortly afterward. He was into some serious illegal shit. I woke up nights, seeing and hearing things that I wished I hadn’t. Suspicion became a reality that I tried but couldn’t ignore.

Then Tempest hit it big and Martin had a new game to control me, a more effective way to break me down. He began showing me articles and pictures of the guys and loved to point out what a big success they were without me. I tried pretending it didn’t matter thinking eventually he would give it up and move onto something else, something less painful, but he hadn’t.

Instead, he honed in on my weakest spot.

Bryan.

An explicit YouTube video of the infamous bad boy guitarist of Tempest became the final wrecking ball that demolished the wall I’d carefully built around what remained of my heart. The wall that had already started to crumble, the wall that wasn’t nearly as strong as I’d needed it to be.

After that I gave in and regularly took what Martin had offered before. I did whatever, whenever. Why shouldn’t I? Forgotten and abandoned by those I’d loved, it was inevitable where I was going to end up. Better to get it over with and fast pass the trip.

I learned to compartmentalize my life. I stuck the bad stuff into a box and pretended it didn’t exist. And when the needle was under my skin, when the drugs hit my bloodstream, everything else did fade away. I lost the will to care about anything. I stopped dreaming about the future, and settled for shuffling through the lucid times like the living dead until the next time I could get high.

I waited up late that night for Martin. He came back as promised, but he hadn’t come alone. Strader was with him. Tall and thin with a gnarled face, Strader’s brand of evil made Martin’s seem angelic.

I rose from the couch, pulling my robe tightly closed with one hand fisted over my chest. Outwardly I tried to project confidence. Inside my nerves were all over the place. It wasn’t lost on me that both men tracked my movement with anticipatory gleams.

This wasn’t good.

“I’ll just leave you two alone to discuss business.” Chin down; I hustled toward the back bedroom.

“I’ll go with you.” Strader’s mouth practically drooled with lascivious intent.

What? No!

Eyes going wide, I looked to Martin for help.

“No, wait.” Martin held up his hand. “Let me talk to her first.”

Strader looked like he was going to refuse, but then his expression changed. “Sure.” He gave me a lurid grin, gaze raking me head to toes in a way that made my flesh crawl. “But just so you know, it’s gonna happen, willing or not.”

And there it was. There was no longer any doubt what he wanted, what he had come to get.

Me.

My heart began beating so fast it felt like my chest was going to explode. It was extremely unlikely I would be able to convince Martin to change mind. He owed Strader a lot of cash. Being under Martin’s thumb had been one thing, becoming a disposable plaything for a man like Strader was entirely another. I’d reached the end of the road, and I refused to go further, deciding right then and there that I’d rather die than endure whatever Strader had planned for me.

But I wasn’t going down easy.

A deadly calm fell over me as I watched Strader give Martin a tight nod. “I’m going out to the car. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

As soon as the door shut after him, I turned to Martin, chin lifted, hands balled into fists at my sides. “I won’t go with him.” I was so proud that my voice didn’t quiver.

He laughed. “Like you have any choice.” There wasn’t an ounce of mercy in his eyes.

What a fool I’d been to believe a man like Martin Skellin had ever cared for me.

He reached for me.

“No,” I managed to rasp though fear had sucked the air from my lungs. I shook my head vigorously and took a step back.

A mistake.

“You strung out bitch.” Martin’s eyes flared. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me so hard my teeth clattered together and my thoughts became rattled. “You can and you will.”

“No.” My eyes burned, but I didn’t cry and I didn’t back down.

That’s when he lost it. I didn’t even see the blow coming. The force of the impact knocked me back on my heels. I tasted coppery blood in my mouth. He glared at me. I glared back, never hating anyone more than I did him in that moment. I went after him, pounding my fists ineffectually against his solid chest. He easily knocked my hands away and smacked my face again with his open palm.

I backed away covering my burning cheek with my hand. He’d hit me before, but he’d never looked at me with such malice. The entire left side of my face was a fiery blaze now. Frantically I retreated, looking around the room for something to defend myself with. Then he rocked me with another blow. His fist felt like a brick as it blasted into the left side of my skull. I reeled into a side table, knocking it over. Everything went black for a moment. When I blinked away the haze, I found myself on the floor with his body looming over me.

“Ok,” I mumbled. “I’ll go. I’ll go.”

Those lips I’d once thought handsome spread across his face into a dark as death smile. “Knew you’d see things my way.” He offered me his hand to lift me up. I offered him my left, but the fingers of my right hand closed tightly around the base of the broken lamp beside me.

As he leaned down, I swung it at Martin’s head with all I had in me. Brass and bone came together with a sickening crack. He lurched face forward into the carpet, and he didn’t get back up.

I fled down the hall and out into the night with just the clothes on my back and the engagement ring he’d given me to pawn.

Shaken by the memory, I shoved my trembling hands into my jeans and stuffed those dark thoughts back into the box. I leaned back against a column and forced myself to refocus on Tempest’s performance. The guys were well into their set now. They were polished and confident, and there was no awkward space where I’d once stood.