‹ Prequel: Phobia.
Phobia
Outside
The music was loud, it was the kind that seemed to thump through you. I’d asked around, pressed myself against plenty of guys, let them rest their hands on my ass, pretending to drink the alcohol they brought.
Nothing.
Well not nothing, plenty for Gordon to go on but nothing for me, no word about any serums, any drug that could be Jonathon's. It obviously couldn’t be in circulation amongst the lower classes, but then it had never been cheap. I shouldn't be expecting so much, there was still a strong chance that Gordon had been right, and myself very wrong. I frowned, brushing past a couple of scantily clad girls as I headed towards the door, the alley at the back was where any serious dealing really went on and I was determined that tonight wouldn’t be a complete waste for me.
I smiled, making sure my cleavage was on display as I headed towards one guy I recognised easily as a dealer, he was quite young and had all his teeth so having to practically sprawl all over him wasn’t as painful as it could have been.
“What you looking for?” He asked, strong east-side accent present. I grinned, moving so I was in-front of him, one hand resting gently on his chest as I lean on my tiptoes, making sure my body pressed against his, “What have you got?” he smirked, listing the usual, his hand slipping slowly down my back and causing me to fight back a cringe.
And you wonder why I hate most people. They’re revolting.
“No, no, I heard there’s something else, like...” I bit my lip as I drew back slightly, pretending to be far more intoxicated than I was; although I had allowed myself several cheap cocktails since I had arrived. His eyes held mine, and I could see he was debating kissing me. I turned slightly away as if I was thinking, “It’s like…beautiful, like an injection, this serum thing, kind of stuff they used to sell years ago.”
His hand dropped instantly and he shook his head. “I wouldn't sell that shit, you seen what it does to you?”
I shook my head slowly, pouting but trying to hold back my disappointment “Well, you know where I can get it? I can make it worth your while.” He did kiss me then, a mix of vodka and cigarettes invading my mouth. It wasn’t bad. In all truth I was starting to enjoy it when his hand slipped down my back again, my chest tight against his own. I’m so starved for any sort of physical contact half of the time that this sort of occurrence is becoming far too regular. In fact, he murmuring about a condom against my lips when the night draws to a very sudden close.
“Lisa!” We both ignore the man at first, and I’m far too slow, the alcohol dulling my senses before I realise what’s happening. “Mate,” the dealer retracts his lips from mine, “Fuck off alright?”
It quickly dawns that I have no idea of the name of the man I’m entwined with, but unfortunately I had already given him the one I was claiming was mine, and it certainly wasn’t Lisa. “Nah, nah.” The other man is drunk, but he’s not a stranger and by the time I’ve finished scrambling through memories to try and work out how I know him he’s come over, still slurring. “Lisa babe, how’s stuff going? You never got back to me. You heard what happened right?!”
“Seriously dude, you better back the fuck up.” The dealer is still coming to my defence, but you can practically see the suspicion forming and I try to untangle myself from him. “Sweetie, you’re confused.” I try and mediate, although my stomach is starting to turn uncomfortable.
“No, I’m not! What is your problem?” His eyes are wide, pupils dilated. He’s not just drunk, he’s off his face. “Back up or I am going to hurt you.” Finally the dealer lets me go and I take a step back, hoping the panic on my face doesn’t completely betray me. I should just run away, people are starting to look. The comments fly back and forth a few more times before the dealer huffs and rolls his eyes shoving the guy hard into the wall and turning back to me.
“Why does he keep calling you Lisa?” I shrug but it’s not convincing, I know that and his eyes narrow. “Hows he know you then Isabelle?” He says my latest pseudonym and it’s all I can do not to cringe.
“I don’t know!” Exclaimed it doesn’t sound much more realistic than if I had just muttered it. “Come on baby, he’s off his head, ignore him. Don’t let him spoil our fun.”
A different tactic and I can tell I’m close to swaying him when the drunkard speaks up again. “Isabelle now is it?”
I bite my cheek hard to stop from storming over and hitting him. “Knew it were you, she comes around right? Couple of years ago now, says she wants in on my deal – I let her and two days later the fucking SWAT team are on me. Then she just fucking vanishes.”
Drug Dealer starts staring at me with a far deeper scrutiny. “Coincidence.” I keep my voice as steady as I can. “Besides, anything you got you deserved.” I can’t help that bit of scorn, it flood out from behind clenched teeth. The dealer shifts, “You a cop?”
“No.” I answer, honestly for a change. “I’m not a cop.”
“She’s a fucking liar!” The drunk man laughs, “She ask for something man? Then offer to suck your dick to throw you off?” My heart is in my throat, and the adrenaline is starting to pump down my legs. I need to get out of here.
I freeze instead and the dealer manages to grab hold of my shoulders. One of the woman, as scantily dressed as myself vanishes back inside the building; she’s going to tell someone what’s happening. “What the fuck are you doing then? You selling people out?” I shake my head mutely, panic drowning me.
“You know what they doing to rats around-“ He doesn’t finish, I take a chance and wrench one arm free, my fist flying straight into his face. There’s a loud crack and a pained murmur that sounds a lot like bitch. I don’t wait to find out, I shove past another guy who’d been enjoying the show and try to vanish in the maze of alleyways.
My heels are terrible on the slippery, damaged cement and I slam into a corner, swearing under my breath at the pain in my hand and now in my ankle. I can’t pause for long, shouting has began back in the direction of the club and there’s no chance they’ll be satisfied just letting me slip away.
I would not be going to any clubs in that area for a long time.
Pushing myself off the wall I start again, limping pitifully now and muttering every insult to myself I can think of. How stupid was I? Ridiculous, so, so very stupid. After a few minutes I come to a half decent road, Regent Street and start along it. I need to get somewhere they either won’t find me; or that is too well lit and populated to try anything. There are no streets like that around here, I’m close to the bridges and subway that leads you to the Narrows. Very few sane people hang around here at two am.
I’m another block away, ankle screaming in protest when the yells start again. Closer this time, louder. I try to run but after a few steps I have to slow again, the stabbing striking right up my leg. I’m still swearing to myself, the panic not subsiding. As I cross a road, intent now on heading to a dingy motel I know is only another block away I see the drug dealer and some other men, a couple large, bouncers if not anything worse.
Why aren’t they giving up? A few years ago they would have, after a bit of a chase. But tensions are so high now; with the Dent Act prisoners are thrown away with little chance of parole. Most of the time no chance. The relationship between police and the more unsavoury sectors of the city are the worst I think they’ve even been. Not that the Mayor would ever give that thought credit.
Any little thing could set them off, would set them off. I should have brought my gun out, pulled it on them – that might have scared them away. Instead I reacted like a complete imbecile. I knew the fact I was female wasn’t helping, and that only increased the fear radiating through me.
Around the next corner I halted, a statue. Several others were coming straight towards me. I’d been led, perfectly into a trap. I was the mouse and they were cats, forcing me down the right streets and turns until I was easy prey. I don’t have anything, no gun, no knife – not even my phone with Gordon’s number on. He wouldn't be able to get here in time; their pace is increasing and images are flickering behind my eyelids.
I’m imaging what they might do and my lungs seems to be so constricted I’m choking. It’s a panic attack, and my vision is growing blurrier, causing the approaching men to turn into a horrifying mass. It’s not even worth trying to run, it will piss them off more, and whatever is coming will be worse.
Again I can easily imagined myself bloodied and torn.
The men behind me stop suddenly, my heads' been whipping back and forth so fast it’s aching. I can’t fathom why until I hear the blare of the siren, it’s a short sound, a warning and the blue lights appear around the corner. A cop car. I let out such a deep breath of relief that I feel faint again. They don’t want a run in with the police, not when the penalty can now be so high. They all stop, and there’s a second before they all try their best to look casual, to look like they weren’t about to pounce. The police car stops, and the racing of my heart slows with it. They wouldn’t be so stupid as to see anything but the truth, the men would leave and I’d do literally anything I had to to get a lift the hell away from this part of town.
The officer in the passenger seat swung the door open with some force and popped into view. “We have a problem gentleman?”
“Nah man.” One of them I don’t recognise waves him off, although the smile he tries to put on barely stretches his lips. “Just off home.”
“Well, you make sure you get there safely Gents.” The police don’t want bother either and the men murmur but start to move away. “You need a lift anywhere ma’am?” I nod shakily, in that instant only becoming aware that I’m shivering all over.
The alcohol in my system is no source of comfort anymore and instead I just feel sick. “You come sit in the back sweetheart.” He speaks again when the others are out of earshot, “We’ll take you where you need to go. You hurt?”
I shake my head again, “No, no I’m fine thank you.”
“Here.” He moves around the vehicle, his arm hovering around me rather than touching as he raps on the drivers window. “Blake, open the back please?”
Gordon’s new little buddy doesn’t say anything to me until he decides they need to pull over to get gas and he asks his partner to sort it.
“No wig this time then?” I take several seconds to answer.
“No.” I clear my throat, hating how weak it sounds. I’m exhausted, all the adrenaline and energy has seeped from my body and I feel like I could fall asleep in an instant. I’m too drained to even be angry at myself anymore. He shifts and I can see his eyes in the rear view mirror. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yup.”
“Right then.” His fingers drum a pattern on the wheel and the other officer sticks his head back in the car to grab his wallet. “Want anything?” I shake my head as Blake speaks to him and he vanishes again. “I’ll take it whatever you were doing was pretty unsafe.”
“You can take it however you want. Nothing to do with you.”
I catch his smile out of the corner of my eye. “Should be less hostile, considering you’re in the back of a police car.”
“You should be less nosy.”
“Not nosy.” He says a little sharply, before I can tell he’s composing himself. “Thought Gordon told you not to do anything stupid.” I go to speak but he cuts me off, waving hand, “I know, I know… butt out.”
My stomach is churning and the headache between my eyes is growing, not at all helped by his persistent questions. I don’t blame him for having them, I just don’t want to hear it.
“Regardless, it did look like you were right at the end of doing something stupid.” I snort, although it catches in my throat pathetically and sounds like a sob. I swallow hard, I will not cry.
“Maybe I’m a whore.” I said stiffly, words clogging in my throat, “You might have spoiled my evening.”
“Morning.” He corrects, as if on impulse. I pull a face that I imagine he mimics. “That address you gave us, how close to your actual place is it?”
Pouting I give him that, not surprised he saw through the deception, “Couple of streets.”
“And you’ll go right home, nothing stupid?” My reply is through gritted teeth but he seems satisfied. “Good. Take my jacket.” I feel my brows furrow, confused for a moment. He sighs, twisting in his seat and unbuckling himself, leaning as much as he can and grabbing the fabric beside me. “Take this, it’s freezing. You already look half dead.”
“Gee, thanks.” His eyes scour over me and I feel uncomfortable, vulnerable. “Alright,” I take it a little forcefully from him, slipping my arms into it. “Thank you. I’ll drop it back at the station tomorrow.”
“No worries.” He doesn’t sit back down, and that sickening hint on concern on his face is far too much.
“I said thank you. I’m not going to steal it.” I all but bark and this does make him move, the leather squeaking. “Not suggesting that.” There’s another pause and he taps again. His partner is taking the piss and I’m getting agitated, my head hurting more with every passing minute.
“Drugs was more of your thing wasn’t it?” I’m sure I’ve misheard him when he speaks.
“What?”
“Nothing much.” I shuffle into the middle of the seat so I can glare at him properly.
“No, by all means Officer. What the fuck are you talking about?” He smiles a little at that, creases forming next to his eyes. “Looked you up is all, earlier on. Knew you looked familiar.”
“What the hell has any of that got to do with you?!”
“Wanted to know why Gordon trusts you. Unlike him to have people like that. Thought he was on the straight and narrow.”
I scoff loudly at him, “Oh yeah, and how honest is snooping through files?”
“Public files. I was interested.”
I’m boiling over, the flame flickering within me. “That’s none of your goddamn business! You sneaky fucking…” The car door opens and I slam back into my seat, my breathing heavy and my jaw tight. The tension is obvious but the other officer doesn’t say a word, dropping me where I had said and nodding as I offered a stiff thank you.
I don’t calm down on the short walk, ankle still hurting and when I get back to my apartment I’m greeted with the sound of Anna throwing up.
Nothing.
Well not nothing, plenty for Gordon to go on but nothing for me, no word about any serums, any drug that could be Jonathon's. It obviously couldn’t be in circulation amongst the lower classes, but then it had never been cheap. I shouldn't be expecting so much, there was still a strong chance that Gordon had been right, and myself very wrong. I frowned, brushing past a couple of scantily clad girls as I headed towards the door, the alley at the back was where any serious dealing really went on and I was determined that tonight wouldn’t be a complete waste for me.
I smiled, making sure my cleavage was on display as I headed towards one guy I recognised easily as a dealer, he was quite young and had all his teeth so having to practically sprawl all over him wasn’t as painful as it could have been.
“What you looking for?” He asked, strong east-side accent present. I grinned, moving so I was in-front of him, one hand resting gently on his chest as I lean on my tiptoes, making sure my body pressed against his, “What have you got?” he smirked, listing the usual, his hand slipping slowly down my back and causing me to fight back a cringe.
And you wonder why I hate most people. They’re revolting.
“No, no, I heard there’s something else, like...” I bit my lip as I drew back slightly, pretending to be far more intoxicated than I was; although I had allowed myself several cheap cocktails since I had arrived. His eyes held mine, and I could see he was debating kissing me. I turned slightly away as if I was thinking, “It’s like…beautiful, like an injection, this serum thing, kind of stuff they used to sell years ago.”
His hand dropped instantly and he shook his head. “I wouldn't sell that shit, you seen what it does to you?”
I shook my head slowly, pouting but trying to hold back my disappointment “Well, you know where I can get it? I can make it worth your while.” He did kiss me then, a mix of vodka and cigarettes invading my mouth. It wasn’t bad. In all truth I was starting to enjoy it when his hand slipped down my back again, my chest tight against his own. I’m so starved for any sort of physical contact half of the time that this sort of occurrence is becoming far too regular. In fact, he murmuring about a condom against my lips when the night draws to a very sudden close.
“Lisa!” We both ignore the man at first, and I’m far too slow, the alcohol dulling my senses before I realise what’s happening. “Mate,” the dealer retracts his lips from mine, “Fuck off alright?”
It quickly dawns that I have no idea of the name of the man I’m entwined with, but unfortunately I had already given him the one I was claiming was mine, and it certainly wasn’t Lisa. “Nah, nah.” The other man is drunk, but he’s not a stranger and by the time I’ve finished scrambling through memories to try and work out how I know him he’s come over, still slurring. “Lisa babe, how’s stuff going? You never got back to me. You heard what happened right?!”
“Seriously dude, you better back the fuck up.” The dealer is still coming to my defence, but you can practically see the suspicion forming and I try to untangle myself from him. “Sweetie, you’re confused.” I try and mediate, although my stomach is starting to turn uncomfortable.
“No, I’m not! What is your problem?” His eyes are wide, pupils dilated. He’s not just drunk, he’s off his face. “Back up or I am going to hurt you.” Finally the dealer lets me go and I take a step back, hoping the panic on my face doesn’t completely betray me. I should just run away, people are starting to look. The comments fly back and forth a few more times before the dealer huffs and rolls his eyes shoving the guy hard into the wall and turning back to me.
“Why does he keep calling you Lisa?” I shrug but it’s not convincing, I know that and his eyes narrow. “Hows he know you then Isabelle?” He says my latest pseudonym and it’s all I can do not to cringe.
“I don’t know!” Exclaimed it doesn’t sound much more realistic than if I had just muttered it. “Come on baby, he’s off his head, ignore him. Don’t let him spoil our fun.”
A different tactic and I can tell I’m close to swaying him when the drunkard speaks up again. “Isabelle now is it?”
I bite my cheek hard to stop from storming over and hitting him. “Knew it were you, she comes around right? Couple of years ago now, says she wants in on my deal – I let her and two days later the fucking SWAT team are on me. Then she just fucking vanishes.”
Drug Dealer starts staring at me with a far deeper scrutiny. “Coincidence.” I keep my voice as steady as I can. “Besides, anything you got you deserved.” I can’t help that bit of scorn, it flood out from behind clenched teeth. The dealer shifts, “You a cop?”
“No.” I answer, honestly for a change. “I’m not a cop.”
“She’s a fucking liar!” The drunk man laughs, “She ask for something man? Then offer to suck your dick to throw you off?” My heart is in my throat, and the adrenaline is starting to pump down my legs. I need to get out of here.
I freeze instead and the dealer manages to grab hold of my shoulders. One of the woman, as scantily dressed as myself vanishes back inside the building; she’s going to tell someone what’s happening. “What the fuck are you doing then? You selling people out?” I shake my head mutely, panic drowning me.
“You know what they doing to rats around-“ He doesn’t finish, I take a chance and wrench one arm free, my fist flying straight into his face. There’s a loud crack and a pained murmur that sounds a lot like bitch. I don’t wait to find out, I shove past another guy who’d been enjoying the show and try to vanish in the maze of alleyways.
My heels are terrible on the slippery, damaged cement and I slam into a corner, swearing under my breath at the pain in my hand and now in my ankle. I can’t pause for long, shouting has began back in the direction of the club and there’s no chance they’ll be satisfied just letting me slip away.
I would not be going to any clubs in that area for a long time.
Pushing myself off the wall I start again, limping pitifully now and muttering every insult to myself I can think of. How stupid was I? Ridiculous, so, so very stupid. After a few minutes I come to a half decent road, Regent Street and start along it. I need to get somewhere they either won’t find me; or that is too well lit and populated to try anything. There are no streets like that around here, I’m close to the bridges and subway that leads you to the Narrows. Very few sane people hang around here at two am.
I’m another block away, ankle screaming in protest when the yells start again. Closer this time, louder. I try to run but after a few steps I have to slow again, the stabbing striking right up my leg. I’m still swearing to myself, the panic not subsiding. As I cross a road, intent now on heading to a dingy motel I know is only another block away I see the drug dealer and some other men, a couple large, bouncers if not anything worse.
Why aren’t they giving up? A few years ago they would have, after a bit of a chase. But tensions are so high now; with the Dent Act prisoners are thrown away with little chance of parole. Most of the time no chance. The relationship between police and the more unsavoury sectors of the city are the worst I think they’ve even been. Not that the Mayor would ever give that thought credit.
Any little thing could set them off, would set them off. I should have brought my gun out, pulled it on them – that might have scared them away. Instead I reacted like a complete imbecile. I knew the fact I was female wasn’t helping, and that only increased the fear radiating through me.
Around the next corner I halted, a statue. Several others were coming straight towards me. I’d been led, perfectly into a trap. I was the mouse and they were cats, forcing me down the right streets and turns until I was easy prey. I don’t have anything, no gun, no knife – not even my phone with Gordon’s number on. He wouldn't be able to get here in time; their pace is increasing and images are flickering behind my eyelids.
I’m imaging what they might do and my lungs seems to be so constricted I’m choking. It’s a panic attack, and my vision is growing blurrier, causing the approaching men to turn into a horrifying mass. It’s not even worth trying to run, it will piss them off more, and whatever is coming will be worse.
Again I can easily imagined myself bloodied and torn.
The men behind me stop suddenly, my heads' been whipping back and forth so fast it’s aching. I can’t fathom why until I hear the blare of the siren, it’s a short sound, a warning and the blue lights appear around the corner. A cop car. I let out such a deep breath of relief that I feel faint again. They don’t want a run in with the police, not when the penalty can now be so high. They all stop, and there’s a second before they all try their best to look casual, to look like they weren’t about to pounce. The police car stops, and the racing of my heart slows with it. They wouldn’t be so stupid as to see anything but the truth, the men would leave and I’d do literally anything I had to to get a lift the hell away from this part of town.
The officer in the passenger seat swung the door open with some force and popped into view. “We have a problem gentleman?”
“Nah man.” One of them I don’t recognise waves him off, although the smile he tries to put on barely stretches his lips. “Just off home.”
“Well, you make sure you get there safely Gents.” The police don’t want bother either and the men murmur but start to move away. “You need a lift anywhere ma’am?” I nod shakily, in that instant only becoming aware that I’m shivering all over.
The alcohol in my system is no source of comfort anymore and instead I just feel sick. “You come sit in the back sweetheart.” He speaks again when the others are out of earshot, “We’ll take you where you need to go. You hurt?”
I shake my head again, “No, no I’m fine thank you.”
“Here.” He moves around the vehicle, his arm hovering around me rather than touching as he raps on the drivers window. “Blake, open the back please?”
___
Gordon’s new little buddy doesn’t say anything to me until he decides they need to pull over to get gas and he asks his partner to sort it.
“No wig this time then?” I take several seconds to answer.
“No.” I clear my throat, hating how weak it sounds. I’m exhausted, all the adrenaline and energy has seeped from my body and I feel like I could fall asleep in an instant. I’m too drained to even be angry at myself anymore. He shifts and I can see his eyes in the rear view mirror. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yup.”
“Right then.” His fingers drum a pattern on the wheel and the other officer sticks his head back in the car to grab his wallet. “Want anything?” I shake my head as Blake speaks to him and he vanishes again. “I’ll take it whatever you were doing was pretty unsafe.”
“You can take it however you want. Nothing to do with you.”
I catch his smile out of the corner of my eye. “Should be less hostile, considering you’re in the back of a police car.”
“You should be less nosy.”
“Not nosy.” He says a little sharply, before I can tell he’s composing himself. “Thought Gordon told you not to do anything stupid.” I go to speak but he cuts me off, waving hand, “I know, I know… butt out.”
My stomach is churning and the headache between my eyes is growing, not at all helped by his persistent questions. I don’t blame him for having them, I just don’t want to hear it.
“Regardless, it did look like you were right at the end of doing something stupid.” I snort, although it catches in my throat pathetically and sounds like a sob. I swallow hard, I will not cry.
“Maybe I’m a whore.” I said stiffly, words clogging in my throat, “You might have spoiled my evening.”
“Morning.” He corrects, as if on impulse. I pull a face that I imagine he mimics. “That address you gave us, how close to your actual place is it?”
Pouting I give him that, not surprised he saw through the deception, “Couple of streets.”
“And you’ll go right home, nothing stupid?” My reply is through gritted teeth but he seems satisfied. “Good. Take my jacket.” I feel my brows furrow, confused for a moment. He sighs, twisting in his seat and unbuckling himself, leaning as much as he can and grabbing the fabric beside me. “Take this, it’s freezing. You already look half dead.”
“Gee, thanks.” His eyes scour over me and I feel uncomfortable, vulnerable. “Alright,” I take it a little forcefully from him, slipping my arms into it. “Thank you. I’ll drop it back at the station tomorrow.”
“No worries.” He doesn’t sit back down, and that sickening hint on concern on his face is far too much.
“I said thank you. I’m not going to steal it.” I all but bark and this does make him move, the leather squeaking. “Not suggesting that.” There’s another pause and he taps again. His partner is taking the piss and I’m getting agitated, my head hurting more with every passing minute.
“Drugs was more of your thing wasn’t it?” I’m sure I’ve misheard him when he speaks.
“What?”
“Nothing much.” I shuffle into the middle of the seat so I can glare at him properly.
“No, by all means Officer. What the fuck are you talking about?” He smiles a little at that, creases forming next to his eyes. “Looked you up is all, earlier on. Knew you looked familiar.”
“What the hell has any of that got to do with you?!”
“Wanted to know why Gordon trusts you. Unlike him to have people like that. Thought he was on the straight and narrow.”
I scoff loudly at him, “Oh yeah, and how honest is snooping through files?”
“Public files. I was interested.”
I’m boiling over, the flame flickering within me. “That’s none of your goddamn business! You sneaky fucking…” The car door opens and I slam back into my seat, my breathing heavy and my jaw tight. The tension is obvious but the other officer doesn’t say a word, dropping me where I had said and nodding as I offered a stiff thank you.
I don’t calm down on the short walk, ankle still hurting and when I get back to my apartment I’m greeted with the sound of Anna throwing up.