Turning on my heels I asked the bar tender to go restock the bar as I made my way into the back storage room. Often times when I wasn’t in town I had my manager take over everything. But when I was here I nearly took control of things.
I could hear Troy behind me tussling around the bar area to follow me to the back. I increased the speed in my steps to dodge his efforts of catching up to me. “Don’t follow me!” I announced pulling the storage room door open and flicking on the light.
Troy rushed in behind me gripping my arm in the process. I swung around in anger preparing to slap the shit out of him. Pushing me in, he kicked the door behind him with his foot and pulled me into him. His breathing was so heavy that I could feel the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes were pierced with anger, tension, and then I saw that familiar stare. Passion.
I turned my face away from his cutting off our eye contact and whined the words, no! Pulling myself away from him I felt the weakness in my efforts to escape. Was I trying to get away or did I really want him to force me to look back into his eyes. Could I possibly play with the idea of allowing this man back into my space again, into my heart, and into my life? It had been years but something was different this time. This time I felt a sense of urgency.
With his left hand he reached for my chin and turned my head back towards him. I first snatched my face out of his hand and he quickly gripped my chin again forcing me to look at him. He pushed me backwards against the wall and whispered my name, “Nitrah!”
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