*warning* mild abuse
Caroline Monroe stared at her reflection on the mirror of the staff's washroom, her eyes wearily eyeing the uniform she had on.
The top only reached a little above her navel, displaying a good few inches of her petite waist. The mini-skirt too seemed to cover only just enough, which never failed to catch the eyes of many customers.
Closing her eyes, she forced herself to shake away the unsettling thoughts. She needed the money â Tristan wasn't here anymore. And maybe she'd lied to her daughter about working at a diner, but she couldn't tell Eva she served at a pub.
Eva would've asked her what a pub was and Caroline really wouldn't have felt like explaining. Plus, this part of the town was always bad; it was no place to be if one expected chivalry or any form of decency.
Letting out a deep breath, Caroline walked out the smelly area and headed towards the bar counter, the humid air and sweaty scent attacking her instantly. She had to cut through the main booths to get there... And that's when she felt it again. Their eyes.
It irked her that she never knew where the stares were coming from, made her want to crawl back into a shell and never emerge.
Men, she couldn't help but think bitterly, the word soaked in disgust as it floated around her mind.
âYou'll get used to it,â a female voice said from beside her, âfirst few weeks are always tough for 'em newbies.â Caroline stared wearily at the redhead munching on her gum loudly, wearing the same skimpy uniform as her but who didn't seem as uncomfortable as Caroline herself felt. Maybe it just became easier with time.
Caroline hoped the other woman was right... If only time could fly by fast enough when she desperately needed it to.
The bartender pushed a tray of three shot glasses towards her. âLoner guy over there,â he motioned with his head towards a guy seated on a table at the centre of the rightmost half of the bar. Caroline blinked momentarily in surprise. The man didn't look like he belonged in this part of the town. Hell, she didn't believe he was from anywhere around this town at all.
Balancing the tray on one hand like she was supposed to, she walked cautiously but quickly towards the particular booth and settled the drinks in front of the stranger. His eyes, which were focused on his hands that were playing with his loosened tie, landed on her.
Grey. His eyes were such a piercing grey, Caroline could have sworn there was a storm brewing behind them.
âThanks,â he finally said. Yeah, Caroline thought, definitely not from around here. People from this part never thanked her when she served them â any form of politeness didn't exist.
She nodded and was about to turn away, when his hand closed around her wrist. She froze, waiting ... Waiting for some sort of reprimanding. Maybe she served him the wrong drinks. Maybe she didn't serve them quickly enough.
âI didn't catch a name?â He asked rather than stated and Caroline found herself being taken aback by this man once again.
âCaroline,â she found herself answering. âBut the ones who know me just call me Care.â
He lifted the corner of his mouth slightly, âwhat do I get to call you?â
And Caroline wanted to run away because of the way her eyes zeroed in on that smile of his.
âI need to get back to work,â she said in a small voice and he immediately let go of her wrist, shocking her yet again. Hurrying back to the counter, she was given another tray â this time to be served towards the small crowd of boisterous men at the opposite end of the bar.
She knew what was coming before she even took a step towards those men. But she did anyways when her thoughts strayed towards her little girl â to Eva. Innocent, quiet Eva who seemed scared out of her wits last night. At least there was nothing for her daughter to fear now. Tristan was gone.
Eva never suffered at the hands of him; she never knew pain and Care was thankful for it. It meant Eva could grow up without any trauma â that Eva's childlike innocence was still intact.
Care did believe so â that her daughter was not affected at all for she had never been on the receiving end of Tristan's rage.
And she continued to tell herself that.
She continued to believe in the notion of her daughter being unscarred.
And maybe it wasn't too late to give her a new life. So Care inhaled deeply and walked towards the designated table, placing the tray gingerly on the surface, intending to hurry away as fast as she could. There must have been at least five men at the table and they were all already drunk out of their senses; Care couldn't understand why they could possibly want more.
She was just turning away after serving them, when one of their hands wound roughly around one of her exposed thighs.
She shut her eyes tightly, hoping that it'd somehow calm her erratic heartbeats. She didn't know why, but perhaps it was out of desperation, she glanced towards the other end of the room. But the grey eyed man was gone.
âNew chick?â The man asked with a lazy grin, digging his nails further into her flesh. Care didn't wince â she'd endured worse beatings. But this felt different; Tristan had always abused her physically, emotionally and mentally â never sexually.
Few of the guys snickered.
âWhat? Can't speak?â He asked challengingly, dragging his hand further up and squeezing painfully before the table burst into roars of laughter and he removed his hand.
Ignoring the bile rising in her throat, she swallowed and walked away faster, the sound of their crude laughter ringing in her ears even long after she was out of earshot and in the small space of the washroom.
She closed her eyes. I'm doing this for Eva, she told herself, I'm doing this for Eva. She forced herself to remember that and ten minutes later, when the bar closed for the night, she was ever so ready to get out of there and go home.
And when she reached home and found her daughter curled up on the corner of the couch, a small part of her felt anger flare at the fact that she had to endure what happened at the bar for the very person lying in front of her eyes.
But an even bigger part of her melted at the sight of pure innocence and she bent down, placing a soft kiss on the forehead of a fast asleep Eva.
âSweet dreams, love.â
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Written; 28th March 2016
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Thank you for reading, commenting and voting âº
All I really, really want is to be able to reach out to people and be able to tell them its all going to be okay one day and this book is like a virtual/digital/cyber hug from me to them :')