Exotic

~ better safe than... ~

The time it took to get out of the city, we were both silent, save the ragged breathing and general sounds of life. By the time Reece pulled over, I had managed to drag myself to sitting, with my knees pulled up under me and my naked arms wrapped around my torso. I couldn't meet his gaze when he flicked his eyes off the road. I just stared down at the goose-flesh of my thighs. I heard a soft tapping and turned my head just enough to see Reece texting an unknown number. I didn't have the mental energy to ask who, at a time like this.

More silence, and then Reece started to shift about. A few seconds later, I was being passed an olive-green fleece jumper that smelt like oil. "Put that on while the heater gets going."

I accepted it without thanks and pulled it over the dress. It caught on my hair, which reminded me I was still wearing my wig. I dragged it off my head, dropping it onto the dashboard in front of me and running shaking fingers through my hair. My dry bangs fell like curtains over my eyes.

"What do you need?" Reece asked. "Food? Home? Police?"

The word police shocked me into reality. Of course, I wanted the police. Of course, I wanted Peter punished. But as I rolled the idea over in my head, imagining the questions they'd ask, the samples they'd take, and how I looked; the short trim of my dress, the makeup, the bare feet, and just how drunk I'd show up as if tested. They'd ask how I'd gotten into the club, they'd ask who had been serving me without an ID, they'd find out about my history there, Jamie could get in trouble, so many people could get in trouble... and all of a sudden I wasn't so sure. "I... don't know."

"Did you know the guy?" he asked without missing a beat.

"Not really..." I responded dimly, and then with a hint of offence, "Not how you're thinking."

"I'm not thinking anything," Reece met my eyes in the mirror-like front windscreen. I looked away first, raising a hand to my right cheek. It was tender to touch, already beginning to swell. My teeth were all in their rightful places, but I could still taste blood on my gums.

"He's done it before," I said softly.

Reece turned in his seat. His eyes were wide and furious. "He's hurt you before?"

I was taken aback by his outrage. "No. No, my friend. He hurt my friend."

He relaxed a little, reaching up a hand to scrub his eight pm shadow. I saw two of his knuckles were split. "I don't suppose your friend reported this?"

I shook my head.

"I'm not going to make you do anything," he assured me. "But some people don't stop until they're stopped. Now we can go home, and you can think about it..."

"No," I said decisively. I had to put aside everything else; Peter couldn't get away with it again. Scaring him away from Crescendo would only push him towards other victims. My pain was multi-layered, scratches on the surface, bruising on the inside, humiliation at my centre. But I didn't want to waste time he could use cleaning himself up and finding an alibi. "No. Let's go now."

Reece nodded and turned over the engine. I pushed my arms through the sleeves of his jumper, then pulled it over my knees. The fleece was like a warm blanket soaking up my panic. The smell wasn't unbearable. If I was honest, its familiarity was another layer of comfort. Slowly, my stomach unclenched, my jaw relaxed, and I stopped shaking as the cabin simmered to room temperature.

"How'd you find me?" I asked in a whisper. I wasn't sure he'd heard me before he answered.

"Your mate... Aaron," he turned the wheel carefully, a smooth arch around a corner. "He came knocking soon after you left. We split the places you might be between us. Been looking since."