OLEANDER
"He won't bother you anymore," my saviour said, dropping his hand from my wrist like it burned him. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.
"Thank you," I whispered.
I didn't think he heard me until he paused mid-step.
"Don't thank me," he said, voice cool. "I'm just doing my job."
What the hell did that even mean?
I stood there, staring after him, confused. He didn't look back. Just kept walking until he disappeared around the corner.
So strange. So mysterious. And cold.
This wasn't the first time I saw him. Before he intervened, I had seen him countless times reclining outside the lamppost, smoking. He never attended class. I didn't think he was interested in it either.
He had walked past me so many times while Riley and his gang dragged me down the hallway, hit me, kicked me, and left me a bruised mess on the floor. Not once had he looked twice.
Why now?
Maybe it was a whim. Perhaps it was the guilt of him watching and not being able to do anything. Or perhaps today, I'd just gotten lucky.
I wasn't counting on being lucky again.
As students began spilling out of the building, I hurried to the bus stop, nerves buzzing. Riley might still come for me, no matter what the stranger had said.
I didn't trust his warning to hold.
The ride home blurred past—agonizingly slow, made worse by traffic. The driver was all rage and no patience, honking, shouting through the window, nearly clipping two side mirrors. But somehow, I made it back in one piece.
An envelope slipped through the letterbox the moment I opened the door. I bent to pick it up, my fingers brushing over the name and address. Knots formed in my stomach.
I didn't need to open it to know what it was.
But I did anyway.
Your rent is now five months past due.
The total outstanding balance is $8,000.
Contact the Management Office within seven days to discuss payment options. Possible arrangements include a payment plan or partial payment. If we do not hear from you within 7 days, your lease may be terminated, and eviction proceedings may begin.
Tears burned at the corner of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I clutched the paper tightly, the edge creasing. I was on the verge of getting kicked out of college and my home.
Heaven knows my landlord was the sweetest. He understood my situation and gave me too many grace periods. But he died, and someone else took over, then the grace vanished.
I barely had any money left at this point. Just a thousand dollars in my wallet, and I'd already been kicked out of two or three jobs. Why? For absolutely no reason.
They just didn't want me anymore. That was all that they said. Hence, my situation worsened. I only had one job left, but that itself could barely give me enough to eat in a month, much less pay the debt I was having.
If only I had died along with my parents, I'd have been free from all of these. Yet, mere wishing wouldn't save me from this debt. I needed to act fast.
—
I hate the Sunny Side diner.
Trust me, there was nothing Sunny about this hellhole, especially at this time of the day—10 PM.
It was filled with men who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, men who leered at women, objectifying them, and men—like the one presently I was serving, trying to, by all means, want to shove his hand into the ridiculous shirt that we were made to wear. Shirts that left our chest bare!
In the manager's defense, it was attractive. Of course, my breasts nearly spilling out of my shirt were attractive. To perverted men!
If only I had a choice, I wouldn't be here.
"How much for the night, whore?"
I swallowed hard as a hand rested on my ass. I turned to the man, Mark, a regular here. A scowl on my face. He grinned, showing off his yellow teeth.
"Come on, I have enough money and I can pleasure you well enough." His fat, slimy palm reached out, wrapped around my wrist, and tugged me into his lap, the iced tea in the cup spilling on the tray.
I gasped, trying to push out of his lap, but his hand tightened around my waist, trapping me.
"Stay," he leaned, and I gagged, perceiving the pungent odour of garlic.
"Unhand me, sir," I said politely through gritted teeth.
"And if I don't?" Mark asked, parting my hair to the side, and began to kiss down my neck.
I squirmed, leaning forward. "I'm going to report to the manager!" I said in a firm voice.
"I'd like to see you try, baby." He laughed, the sound grating on my nerves. "He'll give me to you himself."
Unfortunately, he was right. That bastard! Anything to please his customers, even though it was wrong.
I dragged in a deep breath as his hand kept wandering. Setting the tray on the table, I stared down. "Then, you leave me no choice but to do this."
I jammed the pointy end of my shoe into his feet. He yowled in pain, letting me go instantly, and I staggered out of his lap, breathing hard.
"You bitch. You'll pay for this!" Mark growled and rose to his feet.
My heart thumped loudly so that I could hear it. I had only thought about how to release myself, not how to fight back. At Sunny Side Diner, I'd lose my pay for the whole month if I had an altercation with a customer like this. That was if the manager, Isaac, was kind enough to let me stay and not fire me the first chance he got.
The worst? Everyone minded their fucking business. No one interfered, not even when you were getting killed.
Oh god. If only that stranger were here right now. But that wouldn't help my situation. I didn't want a fight to ensue that'd send me out of here. It was my only hope.
"When I am done with you, Isaac is going to give you as a whore to me, and I'll use you as I desire until I am done and pass you onto my friend and still have you again!"
My stomach turned, and I nearly threw up in my mouth as his four friends sitting near his table nodded their heads in agreement, their eyes slid down my body, undressing me.
He closed the distance between us, his hand clamped around mine, and he pointed to his leg. I gazed down, staring at his big toe.
It was smeared with blood.
"Lick it clean." He ordered, his voice thundering around the Diner, enforcing silence, and all eyes turned to us.
Then in the silence, a low voice hummed, countering, "She won't be doing such a thing."