The music was loud in the bar. Avery smiled at the bartender, a cute guy with blond curls that fell across his eyes.
“Come on,” Harley said, taking her arm and pulling her towards a table where Logan and Kennedy were waiting, “he’s not your type.”
“Yes he is,” Avery purred, looking over her shoulder. He was staring at her. Avery ran her tongue across her lips and winked. Now he was smiling.
“Well I guarantee you are not his type.”
Avery turned back to her friend, the smile fading from her face. “Why would you say that? I mean really, how do you know, he might like a little strange every now and then.”
A waitress was heading their way, a tray of drinks in her hand. When she set one down in front of Avery, Kennedy said, “We didn’t order anything.”
The waitress nodded towards the bar. “From Ben… on the house.”
“We can pay for our drinks,” Harley said.
Lifting her glass, Avery nodded towards the bartender. From the side of her mouth she hissed, “Good lord, do you guys have to be such bitches? I thought we came out to have fun.”
“So did I,” Harley said.
“Well then loosen up some. The three of you act like we’re nuns or something.”
“It’s just that I don’t feel comfortable here,” Logan said. “I feel like everyone’s looking at us.”
Avery took another sip of her drink and then grabbed Harley’s hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”
Ben brought a second round of drinks to their table himself.
“I’m on my break,” he said to Avery. “Maybe you’d like to dance?”
“Told you everything came with a price,” Harley groaned as Avery walk onto the dance floor with Ben.
“Maybe it will be okay,” Logan said.
“With Avery, it’s never okay.”
“I thought you wanted to dance,” Avery joked. Ben had led her across the dance floor and into a room at the back. It was quieter in here, but she was beginning to feel nervous. Harley was right, she didn’t really know anything about him. He could be their century’s version of Jack the Ripper for all she knew.
“I really probably should get back out there… my friends will be wondering where I’m at.”
“What friends,” Ben whispered, kissing her neck. “I only see you.”
“Ben, no…” Avery pushed him away. “Thank you for the drinks, but this is moving too fast.”
“No, I don’t think so.” He pushed her against the wall and forced his leg between her knees. She screamed, but the music outside was loud and the door muffled her voice. Ben turned her around and shoved her face into the wall. She felt him tugging at her skirt, pulling it down. Then she heard him cursing. He bashed her head into the wall and she slid down, stunned.
“You’re a fucking man!” Ben screamed. He kicked her in the side.
“Please…” She tried to stand but he hit her in the face. Avery felt her nose break. She reached up and touched it. Pulling her hand back, she stared at the blood. Ben pulled his fist back, ready to hit her again.
“LEAVE HER ALONE!” Harley lunged at Ben, knocking him back against some shelves. Avery sank to the floor, relieved her friends had found her. Kennedy and Logan put their arms around her, helping her to her feet.
“Harley, stop,” Avery yelled. “He’s not worth it.”
Harley didn’t hear her. Ben had bounced back from the shelves and was charging towards her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife. She held it out as Ben dove, plunging it into his stomach.
“Oh my God…” Kennedy tried to pull Harley back, but she shrugged her off and pulled the knife out and then plunged it in again, twisting the weapon so it tore the wound open more. “Harley, stop!”
“We have to get out of here,” Logan said. Together she and Kennedy managed to pull Harley away. Dazed, Avery followed her friends out of the storage room. The dance floor parted as the friends made their way towards the exit. Harley was covered with blood.
“Is this what she looked like?” Detective Frank Cowan held up the rough sketch he’d pulled from his wallet.
“Yes… only her hair was red, not blond.” Carrie dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I told Ben there was something wrong with her. She kept saying we… we didn’t order anything or we can pay for our own drinks. It was creepy.”
“She was by herself?”
“Yeah.” Carrie lifted a shaky hand to her lips and took a puff of the cigarette she held between her fingers. “I know I’m not supposed to smoke in here, but everyone’s gone home…”
“It’s alright,” Frank said, pulling his own pack out and shaking one out for himself, “after what you’ve been through tonight, I think I can look the other way.”
“You have a sketch of her in your wallet. She’s done this before?”
“Yes.” The detective sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. He looked at the screen and then at her, surprised. “Well I’ll be damned. Would you mind coming down to the station? They just brought someone in that fits the description.”
“You bet I would.”
Frank led the waitress out and helped her into the back of his car. As they drove off, he pushed a button, locking the doors. Carrie looked out the window, puzzled. “Why are we heading towards the harbor? The police station is the other way.”
Frank glanced at her in the mirror, but he didn’t answer her. Carrie leaned back against the seat, nervous. Her hand brushed against something furry. Picking it up, she screamed. It was a red wig. Up front Frank spoke in a voice that was very different from his deep baritone. “It was supposed to be a simple girl’s night out. With Avery, nothing is ever simple. And I can’t leave witnesses.”
Word Count: 1,000