10 comments/ 3799 views/ 8 favorites Finding You Bk. 01: When Souls Collide By: MysweetDragon1969 A beat up, half dead Datsun B210 raced down the highway, its engine whining like an old sewing machine with a brick on the foot pedal, leaving behind a blue smokescreen in its wake. The steering wheel shook so badly that the young woman in the driver's seat had to keep her fingers wrapped tightly around it, white knuckled and hanging on for dear life just to keep the car pointed in a somewhat straight line. She glanced at the clock display and grimaced, pushing the accelerator a little further to the floor in hopes of coaxing more speed out of the tired, four-cylinder engine. The little car gave a wheezy cough of protest then shot forward, startling its surprised driver. The engine screamed, making sounds that Tabby knew in her gut probably weren't normal, but she wasn't about to question the much needed burst of speed. She had a funny thought that if her poor car could talk, it would have been chanting: "I think I can, I think I can..." as it chugged down the highway. Tabitha swore when she saw the time, squinting at the display that was pulsing from barely legible to black, and with a sinking feeling, saw that she was going to be late getting to work...again. "Fucking stupid car!" She slammed her palm in frustration against the centre of the steering wheel, not worried about sounding the horn. That particular option had given up the ghost months ago, along with the radio and the right turn signal. The beater hadn't wanted to start tonight and it had taken her fifteen minutes of fighting with it before the engine had grudgingly turned over and stayed running. Unfortunately, judging by the fluctuating brightness level of the dash lights and the clock that kept fading in and out of view; it looked like her alternator was in the process of waving bye-bye to her too. The engine coughed again and the car slowed noticeably, despite Tabby practically standing on the gas pedal. Apparently that little burst of speed was all the little car had in it tonight. The harder she pushed it, more likely it was becoming that she was going to need a miracle in order to get to work at all. "Please don't stall! We're almost there! Just a little bit farther baby, you can do it!" She sent her fervent prayers and optimistic sentiments up into the stratosphere, hoping that some kindly god was looking down on her and might happen to hear and take pity on her. She could seriously use a dose of good luck right now - something along the lines of a new job or maybe a Ferrari. A Ferrari would be really, really nice, at least she could get to her shit job in style. She grimaced, the pleasant daydream going up in a puff of smoke. Reality sucked - like really sucked. Tabby knew that the closest she would be getting to her daydream tonight, would come in the form of a tow truck and most likely getting her ass handed to her when she got fired for being late again. The way the car was behaving pretty much put paid to that daydream not happening any time soon. The bar and grill where she worked as a short-order cook had recently been sold and the new owner was a colossal prick. She'd already been late five times in the past three weeks and he'd given her a warning that if it happened one more time, she'd be out of a job; a crappy, stupid, menial job that the jerk knew she desperately needed, and now her crappy, stupid, shit-box of a car was going to lose it for her. "Fuck my life," she yelled, urging the car to keep moving and stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the ominous tendrils of white smoke beginning to escape from under the hood. The car limped the next few miles, sputtering and wheezing like a saturated accordion and making horrible noises that attracted strange looks from the occupants in other passing cars. Tabby shrunk down in embarrassment and hid behind her steering wheel, blowing out a relieved breath that she hadn't been aware that she'd been holding, when the sign for her exit finally appeared up ahead. She sniffed, a suspiciously sweet odor was wafting into the car from the vents and she groaned in dismay. Going by the humid reek of hot metal that was getting stronger by the minute, exiting off the highway couldn't happen fast enough for the little car. Sure enough, as soon as its bald tires skidded on to the exit ramp, the dash lit up like a Christmas tree as the engine temperature soared and the engine warning light blazed briefly into life then faded away, settling into pulsing, half-heartedly in an attempt to get her attention. She didn't need the pathetically glowing light to tell her that she'd pushed the old car too hard this time. The cloud of white steam escaping from under her hood was doing that job just fine. Well wasn't that just craptastic? She would have closed her eyes, if she hadn't been driving. Oh come on, really? What next? The wispy smoke dashed her hopes and told her that she and the car were running on borrowed time. Tabby mentally willed the car to just get her to work. Please, pretty please, with high octane fuel on top? She didn't know if begging would work but she was so badly out of opinions that it was the only thing left that she could actually do. She merged on to the city street and immediately slowed down. Her car shuddered and groaned alarmingly as the stress on the engine abated, but the temperature light remained stubbornly on and steam was pouring out even thicker, warning Tabby that all was not copacetic under the hood. She nursed the car for a few more blocks, immensely relieved when the garish, neon sign for Jack's Bar & Grill finally came into view around the last corner. Tabby pulled into the parking lot just as plumes of white smoke began billowing out from under the hood. As if it could sense the end of the line, the engine gave one last phlegmy belch and then stalled. She coasted it into a parking stall, thankful that the little car didn't need power steering and she could still guide the vehicle enough to park it out of the way. Barely able to see, she grabbed her purse and bailed out of the driver's side door in a rush, afraid that the car was going to blow up or catch fire. After sprinting a few yards away, Tabby stopped and glared back over her shoulder at the useless pile of metal that used to be her only form of transportation. "Stupid, piece of shit car," she muttered sadly, shaking her head in utter dismay. Nick, one of the bartenders on shift that evening, and a close friend of Tabby's, was loitering off to the side of the building and was watching the commotion with a raised eyebrow, while he puffed on a cigarette. He sauntered across the lot, curiosity and concern written all over his way too pretty face. "Problems?" he drawled with his smoke dangling from the side of his mouth, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous sight. "Nope, it's supposed to do that, asshole," she snapped back sarcastically. He lifted his hands up, warding her off and had the audacity to laugh. "Really, Nick? Can't you see..." she pointed accusingly at her car that was in the process of steaming and hissing like a geyser. "...how incredibly fucked I am now?" "Whoa! Easy there tiger, I was only trying to be friendly, Tabs." He took a long draw off his cigarette and blew the lungful of thick smoke straight into the air above his head, setting loose a series of smoke rings that Tabby would have found impressive had her life not been in the process of imploding. "Sorry about the beast, BTW," he mumbled apologetically. She sighed, "No. I'm sorry, Nick. You don't deserve having your head bitten off just because I'm fucking late again and Jerry's going to flip his shit when I get inside." A lock of her unruly, curly hair fell in front of her eyes and she pushed it away, suddenly overcome by the urge to just plop her butt down and start bawling. She stared hopelessly at her car, still belching gouts of white smoke. "Think it'll be okay? I mean, should I call the fire department or something?" "Nah, white smoke's nothing to really freak out about, probably just popped a hose or something," he sniffed the air. "Smell that? Sweet, kinda smells like cake? That's just water and antifreeze. Nothing's on fire. Now black smoke, that would be bad, but this shit's nothing to panic over." He paused and the two of them stared helplessly at the dying, little car. He happened to glance down and noticed something that Tabby had not. "Uh oh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he shook his head, directing Tabby's attention to the growing puddle of oil spreading out from underneath the front of her car. "I think it might be something more tragic than a blown hose, honey. Me thinks your faithful steed has run its last race. Looks like you might have blown your engine." Tabby just groaned, glaring daggers at the car and feeling hot tears pricking at her eyes. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" she asked forlornly. "Come on, darlin', we might as well go face the music inside. We'll figure it out later. There's no need to stand here and watch it go through its death throes." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hugged her to him and led her around the back of the building to the kitchen's employee entrance The minute she stepped inside, her boss, Jerry, pounced on her, red faced and puffing like an old steam engine. "What the fuck time do you call this, Tabitha? Your shift started twenty minutes ago and we're swamped!" He was tapping the face of his wristwatch so hard that he reminded Tabby of a spastic woodpecker. Tap, tap, tap, tap- because everyone knows that that's how you make time rewind, don't you know? "Hey Jerry, give the girl a break, man. Her car just beached itself in the lot and died. It's a miracle she got here at all." Thank god for Nick, ever the peacemaker! Tabby could have kissed her friend, grateful to have his support. "Not my fucking problem," Jerry bellowed, displaying a jack-o-lantern smile full of yellow stained teeth the size of piano keys. "The bar full of hungry patrons out there and the fact that my lazy ass cooks can't be bothered to fucking show up on time IS my problem though!" He grabbed an apron off the prep table and threw it angrily at Tabby. "Get your ass in front of that grill and start frying." He pivoted on his heel and began stalking away then stopped and threw a dirty look over his shoulder at Tabby. "We aren't finished here, Tabitha, see me after closing." He stormed across the kitchen and shoved through the swinging double doors that led into the bar area, barely managing to avoid smashing the doors into the face of a server returning with a tray full of dirty dish ware. Tabby's heart sunk - like cannonballs tied to her ankles kind of sunk. The last thing she wanted to do was get stuck alone with her boss. When the abusive dick wasn't yelling at her, belittling her or trying to make a sleazy pass at her, his hands had a tendency to get a little too friendly for Tabby's comfort and it creeped her out. She shuddered at the memory of his overly friendly hugs and casual pats on her backside that he passed off as jokes; he always managed to find an excuse to infringe on her personal space, making her feel crowded and uncomfortable. Having to face Jerry on her own was a prospect that goaded something heavy and restless to begin squirming in her belly, making her feel slightly nauseous. Jerry wasn't a handsome man. In fact, he was the type of guy that handsome sized up at birth, then took the zero and left town; except he didn't know it. The view through Jerry's rose-coloured glasses made him believe that he was the proverbial God's gift to women and that every female wet their panties just for the opportunity to spend time in his presence. Medium height, an inch or two shy of six foot, Jerry had the look of a man that had spent too much time chasing vices that took a heavy toll on a body. Deep lines covered his forehead and were etched into skin that resembled worn shoe leather, the result from being bathed in toxic tobacco smoke for decades. Unhealthy eating habits had expanded his middle-age spread into an unhealthy paunch that overhung his belt in a way that strained the limits of the buttons of his shirt to keep it under wraps. His greying hair had thinned to the point where he'd resorted to the dreaded "comb over" in a lame attempt at hiding a hairline that was in full retreat, as if that could hide the shiny scalp that lay beneath the sparse strands. His vanity blinded him to reality and he could frequently be found preening in front of a mirror in his office, combing and re-combing his hair like some 50's teen idol - he had the attitude, all he lacked was the hair...and the looks...and possibly the youth to pull it off successfully. Of all his vices, Jerry's drinking habit was the one that affected everyone around him the most. It was also the one that worried Tabby the most. He drank way too much, on a frequent basis, and it showed in his permanently flushed cheeks and reddened nose. It was a habit that he didn't bother trying to hide, believing that it made him look more masculine and he was rarely found without a glass of bourbon in his hand or nearby. Jerry's drinking wasn't a problem for him - it was a problem for everyone else. The more he drank the more aggressive and belligerent he became so that by the end of each night, the staff gave him a wide berth as he lumbered around the premises looking like a dyspeptic gorilla spoiling for a fight. The florid glow already high on Jerry's cheeks was a warning to Tabby that her boss had begun his drinking early that night - a fact that didn't bode well for the shape he was going to be in by closing. Maybe he'd just pass out and forget, Tabby hoped. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd done it and Tabby really prayed that history would repeat itself tonight. Let him drink himself into oblivion so that she could sneak out and avoid the confrontation after work. Dealing with a sober Jerry was normally all sorts of unpleasantness. On a good day the guy was an abrasive, arrogant, chauvinistic pig, but drunk and pissed off? Tabby shivered as a finger of dread scraped its pointy nail up her spine. The drunker he got the more unpredictable and dangerous he would become. Dealing with him in that state would be like playing blind man's bluff with a cobra. "Where's Mica?" she asked, suddenly noticing the conspicuous lack of the other cook that should have been on that evening. Nick took one last drag off his cigarette and then flicked the still glowing butt out the door, sending it hissing into a bucket of stagnant water that sat besides the building. "He's at home. He called in sick, got the flu or something." He cocked a commiserating eyebrow at Tabby, "You picked the wrong day to be late, sugar-pie." "Yeah, because I planned it that way..." She hurriedly stashed her purse in her cubby, wrapped the apron around her waist and headed for the grill. The printer sat buried under a mountain of paper, happily grinding out more order tickets. Tabby swore under her breath and began tearing them off and putting them in order. She wrapped her long hair into a loose ponytail, covered it with an uber sexy hair net and scanned the waiting pile of orders to see what needed doing first. Thank god someone had had the forethought to get the grill and fryer turned on. At least everything was warmed up and ready to go. Nick blew her a kiss and headed out of the double doors into the cacophony of the packed bar, giving her a quick salute before he disappeared. She laughed, then headed into the big walk-in cooler, retrieved a tray of burger patties that she'd made up the night before and a snagged bag of chicken wings on her way out the door. The patties hit the grill, sizzling happily on the hot metal, while Tabby dumped the wings into a huge, stainless steel bowl. Working from experience, she tossed them with spices and flour before dumping them, perfectly coated, into an empty fryer basket. The next few hours passed in a blur as she settled into a rhythm, feverishly keeping up with the nonstop orders and sending plate after plate out to feed the hungry patrons. It would figure that they were actually busy tonight, something that was happening less and less lately. Without Mica to help, Tabby was a whirlwind of energy, doing the job of two people, dashing from the grill, to the fryer in a carefully orchestrated dance. Good at her job, she worked efficiently to get the orders filled before the complaints could start. Hopefully that would help sweeten Jerry's mood. Thank god, Jack's only served up basic bar fare - burgers, wings, fries etc. Most were pre-made and frozen, saving her a ton of prep time. She'd tried to convince Jerry to return to the fresh, homemade fare that had made Jack's so popular with the locals, hating the institutional quality of the food now, but all Jerry cared about was his bottom line. He figured that the patrons would be too drunk and stupid to realize that they were paying good money for the same, low quality crap that they could have bought at the local Walmart for a fraction of the price. Unfortunately, the customers weren't as dumb as Jerry believed, and it didn't take long for Tabby to notice the drop in the kitchen volume, and the increase in food coming back with complaints. So long as Jerry had bourbon in his glass, he didn't seem to care about much of anything else and ignored her suggestions entirely. His actual words were: "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours. Leave the running of the business to me and you just worry about the cooking, sweetheart." Tabby had wanted to slap the condescending smirk right off his face that day. If it wasn't for the fact she needed the job, she would've have been quite content to let the arrogant prick shoot himself in the foot with his own stupidity. Oh well, at the rate they were losing business, Jack's would be closed in six months anyway. It was probably a good thing that she was going to be fired after working tonight, all things considered. A rush of dread caught her at the thought of being unemployed and she swallowed against the sour taste of panic that surged up her throat. Don't think about it, Tabs, she coached herself. Focus on what's in front of you and worry about that when it happens. She threw herself into her job, refusing to think about anything else other than the task at hand. She didn't need the distraction when there was so much to do. Losing herself in the routine of her job, Tabby pushed her worries to the back of her mind, determined to just get through the next few hours. The printer finally stopped vomiting out tickets at ten to midnight, giving her ten minutes to finish up the last orders before the kitchen shut down for the night. Last call was announced and half an hour later, Nick popped back into the kitchen, dragged her away from the heat of the grill and out into the cool night air for a break. She slumped tiredly against the cool brick of the building, wiping the sweat from her brow with a damp bar rag, wishing she could just melt into the wall and disappear. Being busy had helped her temporarily forget about her conked out car and the imminent meeting with her mercurial boss. Outside, in the calm evening air, the wave of anxiety slammed into her, sapping the last shreds of energy she possessed. Nick tapped out a smoke and offered one to her, she refused with an absent wave of her hand and pulled off the ugly hair net, shaking out her sweaty hair. It felt so good to be out of the stifling heat of the kitchen that Tabby closed her eyes for a minute, content to just enjoy the cool night breeze. "You did good tonight, sugar-pie," he hugged her to him, kissing the top of her head. Nick was tall, blond and almost too beautiful for words. He reminded Tabby of a cowboy crossed with a supermodel, exuding sex and charisma with every move his perfectly formed body made. The man was built to fuck, she thought, and not for the first time. Finding You Bk. 01: When Souls Collide Too bad his gate didn't swing in her direction, she mused. She indulged in the comfort that his arms offered, needing something nice to dispel the bubbling anxiety and help her through the rest of the night. He tickled her playfully and she crumpled against him, laughing and beating at his chest with her small fists. "Quit it!" she wheezed, wiggling away from his fingers. "Isn't Brian due here any second?" she accused him. "You don't want him to see you fondling me like a blow up doll and have him think that you've suddenly gone straight do you?" Nick gave her a saucy wink and rapped her shoulder with his knuckles. "Sweetie, if I were straight, I'd be taking you home to bed for myself tonight." He paused and pretended to have just had a brilliant idea, a sneaky smile creeping across his lush lips. "On second thought, Brian probably would love that. You game?" Tabby blushed, even though she knew he was joking - or at least she hoped he was. With Nick, it was hard to tell sometimes. Being openly gay didn't stop him from flirting and teasing her at every opportunity, but she knew it was just teasing. Nick did not do chicks - his words, not hers. His partner though, was pansexual - taking whatever was on tap whether it came in the form of a male, female or some shade of grey in between. "Thanks, Nick, but I think I'll pass." She sighed and looked into the kitchen door, her misgivings rising up and making her insides feel like they just rearranged themselves upside down. "That's a shame," he quipped. "Showing up with you in tow would have earned me some serious brownie points! Brian likes you." He waggled his eyebrows at her in a suggestively lewd manner, took a long drag on his cigarette and then grinned at her. She knew by the mischievous glint in his sparkling blue eyes that something dirty and wildly inappropriate was about to come out of his mouth. He nudged her and said, sotto voce, "We could get drunk and make you the filling in a manwich! Imagine the fun!" "Nick!" she giggled in mock outrage and punched him in the shoulder. He painted on a wounded puppy expression, pouting prettily at her and she sighed. "You're incorrigible, you know that? I'd better get back inside and finish the clean up. I really don't want to give Jerry another reason to rip me a new one and I don't want to be here all night." A sleek sports car pulled into the alley that ran behind the bar, illuminating them in its bright headlights. Nick beamed and waved at the driver, adoration for his boyfriend softening his features. "I can stay if you'd like, Tabs. I don't mind, for moral support and all that." To protect you, is what his body language said. He was just as worried about leaving her with Jerry as Tabby was over being left. "That's okay, Nick. Go on, I'll be fine," she replied, not really wanting an audience for the humiliating ass-chewing she was going to receive. Plus, she knew that Nick's boyfriend was only in town for two days before he was scheduled to fly out on a business trip. He deserved some quality time, even if she was freaking out about having to deal with a drunken Jerry on her own. Besides, the ass wouldn't actually do anything other than yell and embarrass her anyway. "Brian's waiting for you and I'm going to be stuck in there for at least another hour." "You sure, darlin'?" Tabby nodded and pulled the door open to go back inside. "Go on, Nick." She stood up on her tip toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Have fun with Brian you big perv. I'll text you in the morning and maybe the three of us can get together for pancakes and you can give me the gory details." He gave her a tentative smile, not reassured by her casual attitude. "Okay then, if you're sure. I'll talk to you in the morning, sweetie." He gave her a quick hug then ran over to his boyfriend's car, skillfully dodging the numerous puddles that dotted the alleyway. He somehow managed to fold his lanky frame into some semblance of an origami human and climbed into the small car. Both men smiled and waved to Tabby as they passed by her and she watched the taillights disappear out of the alley, leaving her alone with a mountain of worry that she couldn't ignore any longer. It was time to go and face the music. Tabby returned inside to find the mess waiting for her and sighed tiredly. Most of the appliances were either already off or waiting patiently for her to come clean them and the constant thump of music had finally subsided - a not so subtle hint to those lingering in the bar, that they'd be tossed out to find their way home soon. Some of the waite staff had gravitated into the kitchen, hanging around the prep table and snacking on a plate of nachos that she had made up for the staff with whatever ingredients were leftover that wouldn't keep until the next day. They fell on the food like a pack of rabid hyenas fighting over a carcass, laughing and joking with each other as they unwound after a busy shift. Tabby just nodded, shot them a smile, but didn't have the energy to be social. She still had tons of clean up and prep to get through for tomorrow, even if she wasn't going to be there, and then there was Jerry to deal with. As if on cue, his loud, obnoxious, bray of laughter carried into the kitchen; Jerry's slurred voice making some crude remark that was followed by a squeal of outrage by a female patron. One of the busboys had been spying out of the rounded window and started hooting with laughter. "It looks like old Jerry is going home with his dick in his hand again tonight, people!" He announced with glee. "Judging by the slap that blonde he's been dogging all night, just gave him, she finally must have gotten fed up of Mister Grabby hands' slimy moves." Great. That's all she needed, Tabby groaned inwardly. He's going to be a miserable bastard now and will probably be feeling vindictive after being shot down by that woman. This fucked up day just keeps getting better. Tabby's mind was so full of worries and stressing over so many things that her head had begun an incessant throbbing right behind her eyes. She did not want to face Jerry alone and that fear kept twisting in her gut like a restless snake, making her feel like throwing up. I should just quit, he's probably going to fire me anyway, she thought while she scoured off the burnt-on food stubbornly stuck to the grill with a pumice stone. The scratchy, gritty sound set her teeth on edge and made her intimately aware of the pounding headache that was growing in intensity. She'd actually been too busy and distracted to even notice how much her head hurt, but now that she did, it wouldn't be ignored any longer. "What a fucking night," she murmured, doing one last look around the kitchen and double checking that the fryer and grill had been properly shut off. The kitchen had emptied out while she'd been occupied cleaning the grill, all that remained on the plate was a scattering of tortilla crumbs with bits of melted cheese gluing the fragments into a crusty mass. A stray black olive riding shotgun on a jalapeño slice reminded Tabby's stomach that it hadn't seen food since she'd eaten a stale piece of toast with peanut butter when she'd woken up in the morning. It rumbled and gurgled embarrassingly loud in the quiet room and she rubbed her belly, wishing that her bank account held enough money for a burger from a drive-through on her way home. The way her finances stood at the moment, if she stuck her debit card into a bank machine, air would rush in to fill the void that was all that was left in her account. Food would have to wait until payday, unless she could mooch something off of her friend, Petra, when she got home. If she got home, that was. There was still the problem of her unexpected lack of transportation. Tabby hadn't quite figured out how she was going to manage that feat with her car having turned turtle in the parking lot. She gave a little laugh at the silly picture of her Datsun flipped on its roof waving its bald, mismatched tires helplessly in the air. Stupid, stupid, stupid fucking car. She glanced towards the swinging doors in time to see the lights in the main bar shut off, the view past the round glass windows going black with the exception of the glowing exit sign lit up on the far end of the room. A second later, Jerry shouldered his way through the doors, a cash register tray in one arm and a tumbler of amber liquid in the other. He glared at her with eyes that were just a little too shiny for him to be anywhere in the vicinity of sober and he got a speculative look that made Tabby's skin crawl. There was something slimy and reptilian about the way his eyes narrowed, matching the crocodile smile that slithered across his thin lips. He took a swig from the glass and licked his lips slowly, making Tabby's stomach clench in disgust. He placed the cash drawer on the stainless steel prep table then strolled slowly in her direction, making a theatrical show of inspecting the cleanliness of the kitchen. He hummed and harrumphed, dragging a thick, meaty finger over every surface, shooting disapproving frowns her way to make sure that she was paying attention to his performance. Every so often he'd stop and take a long swallow on his drink, watching her over the rim with raw avarice in his beady, little eyes. His glass finally emptied and he discarded it with an exaggerated sigh, on the metal table, disappointment clear on his features. He pointed at her, his index finger drifting away from its intended target like a broken compass. "In my office...now!" he slurred and then burped loudly. He smacked his lips together again with a disgusting wet sound and swayed like he was standing on the deck of a boat. "Can't we just do this out here, Jerry? I have a few more things to finish up and we can always talk while I do them." Stall, Tabby! Her senses were picking up a dangerous vibe from the man and screaming for her to bolt, to put as much distance between him and her but he wasn't having anything of it. "Your file is on my desk and I need it so get your ass in there now! We need to discuss your future here, girl." Tabby swallowed hard, hoping the shaking that vibrated her from the inside out wasn't obvious to Jerry. His eyes held an excited gleam under the sheen of drunkenness that unsettled her. She should go. She really should go...right now. Just leave and screw the job, but rent was due in a week and her cupboards didn't have enough in them to even interest the cockroaches. She needed the job and had to at least try to save it, if she could. But Jerry's odd behavior was making her seriously nervous and Tabby wished she had taken Nick up on his offer to stick around. The bar was empty, everyone had gone home - it was just him and her left and that wasn't a good situation for Tabby to find herself in. "You deaf as well as chronically late?" he barked at her. "This is your last warning, girl. If you want to keep your job, you'll march that pert little ass of yours into my office so that we can have our little chat!" He was puffed up with his own importance, pointing towards the open door of his office with an imperious finger. Tabby took in a shaky breath that felt like she was breathing in a lungful of sand particles, then started across the kitchen to Jerry's office with him following her much too close for her comfort. He mumbled something under his breath that she didn't catch and definitely didn't want to ask him to repeat, so she ignored him and stepped into the office, which was little more than a glorified, windowless closet that functioned as Jerry's base of operations. She felt immediately claustrophobic in the cramped space. The claustrophobia ratcheted up into panic when Jerry stepped in behind her, startling her when he pulled the door closed and she heard the lock click into place. "Wh-why are you closing the door, Jerry? There's no one here but us now." Tabby's heart rate was racing like a scared rabbit at having suddenly found herself in an untenable situation. Jerry had at least a foot in height and at least one hundred pounds over her much smaller frame and now, he was blocking the only way out of the small room. He was so close that she could smell the stink of perspiration and alcohol coming off him in reeking waves, turning her stomach. He gave a low, mean chuckle and sidled past her, brushing up against her back as he pretended to edge by. He went behind his desk and dropped his weight into a beat up, leather, executive chair that groaned alarmingly as his bulk stressed the limits of its cheap, plastic frame. "The cleaners are due in any time and I'd like privacy for our little chat." He leaned forward, resting ham sized forearms on his desk and indicating to a chair placed in front. "Sit," he demanded coldly. Tabby slowly lowered herself stiffly into the seat, her back ramrod straight and her knee jittering and bouncing with anxiety that she couldn't completely hold inside. Deciding to take control of the situation she blurted out, "I'm so sorry that I was late again, Jerry. My car..." "I'm not interested in your useless apologies," he interrupted, his hand slicing the air to silence her. "The fact is, I need to be able to count on my staff and you keep letting me down, girl. Your tardiness put my balls in a bind tonight. We had a packed house and neither of my cooks could be bothered to show up. I lost money I can't afford because you were late." He straightened up and gave her a devious, appraising look. She could practically hear the wheels in his head spinning with anticipation and got a very bad feeling. "I brought you in here so that we can discuss how to rectify this situation." He sat back in his chair, a calculating smirk on his face. His eyes were shark-like with ravenous intensity and greed, making her squirm in her seat as they tracked down her chest and lingered over her breasts. Her stomach plummeted through her feet, getting a sudden, nasty idea of where this meeting was heading. Confirming her fears, one of his hands slid backwards on the desk's surface and dropped out of Tabby's sight. Movement in his upper arm suggested actions were happening below the level of the desk's edge that Tabby didn't want to know about. Oh my god. Is he... stroking himself? She gagged on sour bile that scalded up her throat. Holy fuck, I need to get out of here! Jerry's eyes shone, openly ogling her breasts as his arm moved with rhythmic jerks. He grunted, his face tensing then going slack as his big body shuddered and his eyelids fluttered to half-mast. Tabby didn't need to see behind his desk to know that he had just jerked off and had come in his pants. She felt dizzy with fizzing terror and sick to her stomach with fear. Jerry breathed theatrically, his heavy eyes never leaving her for a second. An oily smile slithered across his lips, satisfied that she had comprehended the point of his little performance. "Yes, I think we can help each other here. Don't you?" He stood slowly up and Tabby sucked in a breath, horrified at seeing the damp spot soaked into the front of his trousers, sitting right on top of the outline of an erection. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. She jumped out of her chair but barely made it a few steps before he was on her. For a big man, Jerry moved like a pit viper, whipping around the corner of his desk and grabbing a handful consisting of her long hair and the back of her uniform shirt. He hauled her backwards, the burning shock of her hair being viciously pulled made her cry out in pain. He yanked her off her feet and flung her bodily back into the chair, knocking her breath from her lungs with a loud exhalation of air. "Now why did you have to go and do that?" he whined like a petulant child, his little piggy eyes shining with a malevolent disapproval. "We were just having a friendly conversation and you had to go and ruin it." His eyes grew flinty, fixating on her with dangerous intent. "And we were just getting to the good part." His words were perfectly enunciated and cut the air like a razor. "Don't you want to hear the good news, Tabitha?" He spat her name with so much derision in his voice that it chilled her to the core. Fear blossomed inside her as the realization of how much trouble she was in hit her with the force of a ballistic missile. It was then that Tabby understood the grave miscalculation that she'd made. She had badly underestimated his state of drunkenness, initially hoping to use his inebriation to her advantage. It was apparent to her now that the devious bastard had been putting on a show to lull her into a false sense of security. The ugly, brute of a man looming over her was stone sober and had played her for a fool. Her stupidity had gotten her trapped alone with a calculating predator. Tabby felt real fear fill her chest, making her heartbeat race and skip in a sickening dance of terror. She was in way, way over her head. "What do you want from me?" she asked, afraid of the answer. He grinned wolfishly, displaying his oversized teeth and perched his bulk on the edge of his desk, his hand going back to the bulge in his pants and rubbing it. "I'm a reasonable man. We can help each other out here. You need a job - I can let you keep yours." He beamed, magnanimously. Stroke went his hand over the front of his stained trousers. "You need a car - I just happen to have one that I could give you use of." Stroke...stroke. "All I'd want from you in return, is to fulfill a few, let's call them: 'favours' for me, okay?" Stroke...rub...groan. He was putting on a show for Tabby's benefit, getting more aroused as he reached the point of this discussion. "We don't have to be enemies here, Tabitha. Wouldn't you prefer to be friends?" His fist squeezed around his erection and he licked his lips greedily. His breathing had picked up again, betraying his level of excitement and his eyes couldn't seem to keep their lecherous gaze off of her breasts. "W-what k-kind of 'favours' did...did you h-have in m-mind?" she couldn't help stammering, terror had turned her insides to quivering jelly and her mouth didn't seem to want to work properly. She had the uncomfortable feeling of being a cornered, wounded animal, being played with by a bored lion. Jerry's hand moved faster over his erection, excited by her fear and obviously getting off on it. He stood again and Tabby instantly recoiled, trying to keep away from him, but was trapped by the chair in which she sat. He laughed, a mocking, humorless, thing that spoke volumes of the kind of illicit ideas he had stewing in his twisted brain. Tabby couldn't breathe through the miasma of terror that the sound wrapped her brain in. He leaned in closer, one hand leaving his erection and drifting idly up her arm. She sat motionless, screaming inside at the disgusting feel of his fingers through the thin cotton of her uniform sleeve. "You see...my fat bitch of a wife doesn't fulfill her wifely duties for me anymore. Do you have any idea how hard that is for a man like me? Every day I slave at work and all she does is spend my money and watch TV." "W-what does that have to do with me?" Tabby asked, stupidly, but needed to keep him talking so that she could think. "In exchange for your job and the use of a car, I want you to take her place. I want you to be my little whore. Give to me what that miserable cunt denies me, whenever I want and," his mouth split into a sadistic, lecherous grin. "However I want." Tabby jerked in horror, shaking her head so hard her vision spun. "No! No!" His huge fists clamped over her biceps, squeezing hard and giving her a hard shake. "Now that's not being very friendly at all, is it, girl?" he growled, gritting his teeth loud enough that she could hear the scrape of tooth enamel. Before she could react, his hands left her arms in a blur and he grabbed at the two halves of her shirt front and yanked hard, sending the buttons pinging off of the walls and metal filing cabinet like shrapnel from a pressure cooker bomb. He took full advantage of Tabby's shocked state by clutching both her arms again quickly, before she had the sense to try to get away. He lifted her out of her seat and slammed her back flat onto his desktop, the impact making her breath whoosh out in the form of another strangled scream. The back of her skull impacted the hard surface with a sickening crack, bouncing a couple of times from the force of the hit. Her vision blurred and greyed out, leaving her stunned and helpless. Pain exploded like a nuclear bomb in her head and she almost threw up from the eye-splitting agony. She moaned, head lolling to the side and fought against the giant hands trying to pull her into unconsciousness. Finding You Bk. 01: When Souls Collide He just laughed and leered at her, face alight with sick triumph. "You still owe me for the aggravation you've caused me, bitch." His eyes darted to her bra, which was heaving with her rapid breathing. "And you're not leaving here until I collect...with interest!" Tabby went rigid with terror, her blood turned to liquid ice and made her veins burn with cold fire scalding them. Heart-stopping fear paralyzed her muscles, rendering her a prisoner in her own body. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. Her thoughts had scattered like a bag of marbles dropped onto the floor, skittering and rolling away before she could collect them, leaving her in a state of absolute panic. Raw, primal fear overwhelmed all her senses and pushed her to the verge of hyperventilating as her lungs spasmed, unable to inflate properly. A loud, buzzing static had filled her ears, tricking her into believing that a swarm of angry bees had taken up residence inside her skull and a hazy, gray fog thickened and encroached on her field of vision. Her terror was putting her in real danger of passing out, leaving herself vulnerable and at Jerry's mercy. "Think!" A familiar voice, not her own, yelled from inside her head, cutting through the chaos roaring in her ears. The voice distracted her momentarily from her fear and drew her away from the blackness that was trying to steal consciousness from her. It sounded so much like her twin brother, Troy, that she thought, for one brief, precious second, that he was actually in the room with her - even though the rational part of her brain knew that he couldn't be. "Come on sis, use that big brain of yours before that pig of a man takes something from you that isn't his to take!" "Troy!" she sobbed in relief, searching for the source of his voice. "I don't know what to do! He's too big, too strong. I can't...I can't fight him." "You have to stop thinking like a victim, Tabby! It's going to get you killed," he scolded her, disappointment lacing his words. She imagined that she could see Troy's blue eyes cutting through the storm clouds swirling poisonously in her mind, the familiar irises glowing brightly with his fierce love for her. The more she focused on the memory of her twin, the more real he became - until she thought that she could see a shadow of him hovering just out of reach. As her mind drifted through the dreamscape, she imagined that she could feel strength flowing to her through the mysterious connection that had been created in her mind. She clung desperately to that tendril of hope, using it to dispel some of the terror that had gripped her. "He's fighting dirty, Tabs, so you need to do so as well. The rules don't apply now, this is life and death, sis. You're stuck in the middle of it and in a minute, time is going to catch up and you have to act before it's too late!" His voice was fading, retreating as the clouds thickened and pushed him out of her head. "Troy!" She called out, her dream-self throwing out a hand in hopes of keeping him with her. "Please...please don't leave me!" "Remember Tabs, fight dirty...Survive!" his voice echoed back one last time before his shadow vanished into the darkness. Tabby was thrust back into her awful reality by Jerry's rough hands groping at her bra, he was pulling it away from her chest and twisting it in an attempt to rip it from her. She heard the sound as some of the seams tore, but the material was stronger than it looked and wouldn't give. He had to settle for pushing it up her chest and letting her full breasts bounce out of the bottom. The instant that they were free, he latched onto them; pawing at them with rough hands and squishing them with his fingers with the wanton joy of a child playing with play dough. His fingers dug hard into her sensitive tissue, over and over until she was shrieking in pain and smothering under Jerry's immense weight. She kicked out frantically, but her legs couldn't connect with the way he was leaning on her. "Scream all you want, you useless cunt! There's no one around to hear you and I do love fucking me a fighter. Sure beats that cold fish of a wife back home!" Drops of putrid spit hit Tabby's face as he gloated over her. His hands left her aching breasts and he trapped both of her wrists in one huge hand, pinning her squirming body to the desk with them pressed into her stomach. With his free hand, he took stabs at grabbing at the button on her jeans, getting red faced with frustration when he couldn't get a hold of it. She was making it next to impossible for him by twisting and bucking her body beneath him, his own girth adding to the difficulty by making him have to do it blindly, unable to see past the rolling expanse of fat obscuring his line of sight. "Stop fucking moving, you miserable little bitch!" Out of patience, Jerry exploded in anger. Tabby didn't have time to react or move as his fist suddenly appeared in her peripheral vision a split second before blinding pain erupted on the right side of her face. Through the ringing in her ears, Tabby vaguely heard his voice. "Move again and I'll knock you out and tie you up!" he snarled at her, sending another shower of revolting spit into her face. The impact had made a constellation of stars burst in front of Tabby's eyes, stunning her, but it was the sadistic glee in his threat that had knifed through her panic. The terrifying possibility of being totally helpless with him had petrified her into stillness. Jerry grinned manically, keeping eye contact with her as he easily slipped the button through the tight denim and wrenched her zipper down. He was practically drooling when he yanked off both her jeans and underwear, working them over her pair of boots that he couldn't be bothered to waste time untying so that they could be removed first. She whimpered as cool air found the newly exposed skin of her sex and Jerry's eyes became shiny pools of obsidian as fevered lust made him look like a man possessed. "Now that's more like it," he hummed happily. "I'm going to stand up now," he growled in warning. "If you move so much as a finger, I'll tie you up and hurt you so bad that you'll wish you were dead." He gave her a humorless, condescending smile and patted the cheek where he'd punched her, chuckling as she gasped in pain. "All you need to do is lie there and spread your legs like a good little whore. Do that and maybe I'll just fuck you and let you leave after. Understand?" Tabby could tell by the deranged gleam in his eyes that his promise was a hollow one, meant to buy her cooperation with the hope of freedom. She knew without a doubt that he had no intention of letting her leave that easily. Unable to extricate herself, Tabby just nodded numbly, potent fear sizzling through her nerves until she swore she could hear the crackle and fizz of arcing electricity. Even as she grasped for a way to escape, a sense of inevitable resignation crept over her, sapping her strength. An odd sense of detachment pulled at her like a dog straining on a leash, dragging her consciousness away from the brutal act that was fast approaching. Her only saving grace was the pounding agony in her face mixing with the overdose of adrenaline vibrating her nerves that kept her tethered to consciousness, and gave her something tangible to focus upon. This was it, her mind screamed. You're about to get raped and there's nothing you can do about it! "Fight!" Troy's desperate plea filled her head, breaking through the strange lethargy that was keeping her immobile. A mental nudge, as if her brother had just slapped her brain, brought a stab of shocking awareness rushing back. Tabby gasped and clawed her way out of the well of despair that had been sucking her down and she let righteous anger fill her with renewed energy. She would fight him, dammit. There was no way in hell that she was going to let this happen without making it as hard for the sick bastard as she could. If the end result was going to be the same, at least she'll know that she tried everything that she could possibly do to prevent it...even if the attempt only made matters worse. Anything was better than just lying there and doing nothing while a monster did unspeakable things to her. Her gaze shifted back onto Jerry, a new determination fueling her body. She would find an opportunity or a mistake or something that she could exploit to get herself out of this hellish situation. She would fight dirty. If he wanted her that badly, she was going to make it as hard as she could for him to get her. Oblivious to the epiphany that Tabby had just experienced, Jerry was too busy ogling his new prize. He was panting heavily, compulsively licking his thin lips with a lascivious hunger that made him look like a starving man staring at an all-you-can eat buffet. His shifting eyes disturbed and revolted Tabby, roving over her naked mound and flicking crazily between it and her bare breasts, as if he was torn between which of the two feasts he wanted to partake in first. His thick fingers fumbled, clumsy and uncoordinated, at his waist seeking to unbuckle his belt. His large belly and his proximity to her was making the task much harder than it should have been. He grunted in irritation and finally had to step back so that he could peer down, suck his gut in and work the belt out of the buckle. Tabby held her breath, suspended in a state of morbid fascination as he finally managed to undo the stubborn button on his pants and they and his boxers fell from his hips. Unrestricted, his semi-erect cock sprung limply forward and for a split second, Tabby almost let out a guffaw of hysterical laughter. The sad way the pathetic thing bobbed, reminded her of a broken jack-in-the-box, jerking awkwardly as it tried to inflate itself into some state of usefulness. Her moment of amusement disintegrated when a glob of something thick and white, slid off the end of his dick and fell out of her line of sight onto the floor. She gagged in revulsion, immediately reminded of the way he had masturbated in front of her earlier. Tabby fought with breathless, nauseating, panic, acutely aware that time and her chance for freedom, was speeding past and that she still hadn't found a way to save herself. That moment presented itself unexpectedly when Jerry stepped forward and leaned over to position himself between her legs. He didn't seem capable of peeling his eyes off the dark thatch of pubic hair between her legs and had bent down, extending his tongue as if to take a taste. It put him at the perfect angle for Tabby to see an opportunity to retaliate. Without thinking, she popped one knee up sharply, catching him by surprise. Her kneecap found its target and crunched with explosive force, into Jerry's bulbous nose. He howled in shock like a wild animal, bolting straight upright, bright red blood spraying everywhere and grabbing for his nose with both hands. Blood oozed through his fingers as he gave Tabby a murderous look. "You fucking bitch!" he yowled, spitting blood at her in a gurgling roar. Tabby saw her next opportunity open up and didn't hesitate to act again. The second he had stood up, his vulnerable groin had been left unprotected by the withdrawal of the bulk of his overhanging belly. Tabby retracted both of her knees up to her chest so fast they moved in a blur and then exploded her legs forward as if they had been spring loaded. Her feet hit his vulnerable crotch like a pile driver, making his eyes bulge from their sockets before he let loose an ear splitting shriek. She felt the fleshy thud reverberate up her legs as both boot heels slammed into his cock, shoved his testicles up into his body and smashed them like grapes between her heels and his pubic bone. The force of her strike shot him backwards while at the same time, he crumpled forward in agony. He lost his balance, careened off the chair by the desk and landed on the floor in a gasping heap clutching at his bleeding crotch and gagging on his own screams. With him incapacitated, Tabby didn't waste any time scrambling off the desk, pausing just long enough to level another brutal kick to the shrieking man's unguarded face. He tried to grab for her leg but she'd anticipated that and kicked his hand away, catching him on the wrist so hard that she heard the stick-like sound of bone cracking. He howled again, curling around his broken hand and screaming in agony. "Hope it was worth it you bastard. Your cock isn't going to be good for anything but pissing out of now!" she screamed at him. Tabby snatched her pants off the floor and jumped for the door, leaving Jerry a bloody mess behind her. "You fucking...bitch!" he wheezed from the floor, doing a bizarre twisting dance that looked like he was attempting to curl up to the fetal position and trying to get to his feet at the same time. Blood streamed from his mouth and nose and more soaked through his trousers staining them dark, where her kick had done him some serious damage. "You're...gonna...regret this, you fucking bitch!" Unlocking the door, Tabby turned and spat at him, feeling a massive burst of satisfaction as she watched the glob of saliva hit him in the eye and slide down his cheek. "You can keep your fucking job and shove your favours up your ass! I quit!" Tabby left Jerry writhing and moaning on the floor of his office and raced through the kitchen, ruined shirt flapping like wings at her sides and her mind propelling her to go, go, go! Get away from here as fast as you can! Pausing long enough to grab her purse, Tabby burst out of the rear door and skidded into the darkened alley. She took off into the dark, blind panic making her legs pump like pistons. The only thought going through her head was the primal need for escape. She sprinted away, heedless of her nakedness and ignoring the grimy, cold water that splashed up her bare legs. The amber glow of street lights filtered into the darkness as the end of the alleyway approached and Tabby sped up, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be out in the open and away from the claustrophobic feel of the cramped alley. Her foot came down heavily, splashing into a puddle and startling a stray cat that had been scrounging for dinner in one of the trash bins. The hissing creature leapt in front of her, scaring Tabby into almost losing her footing as she half tripped and half jumped over the yowling animal. The fright slowed her long enough to realise that she was about to run out onto a public street wearing nothing but a torn shirt, ruined bra and a pair of boots. She hurriedly shook out her jeans and yanked them up her trembling legs. Thank god they were boot cut and passed easily over her boots or else Tabby might not have wasted the time to put them on. Even stopping for the minute it took her to put her pants on filled her with a sickening desperation to run. As she shimmied into her jeans, she kept looking behind her at the sliver of light that spilled into the dark from the open door of Jack's kitchen, fearing that Jerry would appear at any second. She glanced down to button her jeans and saw a scrap of white on the ground by her foot, her underwear had dropped into a puddle and she scooped them up and stuffed them into her pocket. Soaking wet and filthy, they were ruined but they were hers and she was loathe to leave anything of hers for Jerry to find; she'd toss them out herself when she got home. Pants on, the next problem she tackled was her torn shirt. The buttons were all but gone and some of the buttonholes had ripped when Jerry had pulled her shirt open. The only thing she could do was tie the two tails of her shirt front together, just like she remembered doing as a kid in summertime. It kept the shirt partially closed and at least covered her breasts that sagged out of the bottom of the ruined bra. She took one last look behind her and saw nothing but the empty alley. No sign of Jerry. She took off running again, exiting the alley and turning left, not knowing or caring where it took her so long as it was far away from Jack's. She ran and ran and ran, adrenaline powering her legs until her muscles threatened to give way. She stumbled and almost fell, before skidding to a halt, doubling over and gasping for air. Scanning the area, she tried to figure out where she was while waiting to catch her breath. A red, digital clock in the window of a bank across the road showed the time as 2:50 am and her heart sunk with despair at the sight. Transit buses stopped running at two...she was stranded and too broke to take a cab. Hot tears finally came, pouring out of her like a burst damn, riding waves of tremors so intense that her knees buckled and she dropped onto the pavement. She shook and cried on that deserted city street with only the glow of the street lamps and the big, Golden Arches of a fast food restaurant to keep her company. She cried for ten long minutes, succumbing to the fear and terror that she had had to bury in order to save herself. As her sobs slowly abated, she became aware of numerous sharp pebbles on the sidewalk, digging painfully into her knees. She pulled herself together, got to her feet and stumbled to a bus stop that stood nearby. Sitting tiredly down on the bench, Tabby tilted her eyes to the crescent moon and stared blankly into the night sky, her breath coming in hiccups from all the crying. She had never felt so lost and alone in her life and wished she could just fly away. Tabby sniffled and used the collar of her shirt to dry her tears. As flying away wasn't an option, she had better start trying to figure out what to do next. The night air was chilly, her open shirt letting the cool breeze in and she recalled that her jacket was back in her now defunct car. Shivering from shock and cold, Tabby knew that she had to do something and dug her phone out of her purse. She scanned her speed dial list and found her neighbor and best friend's picture. She pressed her smiling icon and waited for the call to connect. It rang and rang and rang and Tabby prayed that her friend hadn't stuck her phone on 'do not disturb' for the night. "Come on, Petra. Pick up!" Just as she was about to give up hope, Petra's sunny voice came on the line. "Hi'ya Tabs. What's the matter? Can't sleep?" she laughed, sounding suspiciously wide awake for the late hour. "Petra," Tabby could barely speak above a whisper, the urge to dissolve into a fresh round of tears pricked at her eyes and made them sting. "Tabs? Hey, what's up?" "I'm having a pretty shitty day. Can you do me a f..." Tabby's stomach convulsed the second that awful word came into her mind. Nausea roiled and streamed up her throat, forcing what little she had in her stomach, to spray out of her mouth and onto the pavement between her boots. Bitter stomach acid burned and choked her as her muscles rebelled against the vile word that had been on the tip of her tongue. She couldn't say the awful word that Jerry had used. She couldn't even think of it without getting violently sick. Favour. It was once a common part of speech that Tabby wouldn't have hesitated to use; now it sounded perverted, twisted and obscene - something to be reviled and feared. She was never going to be able to hear it again without seeing Jerry advancing on her, holding his dick like a weapon. A monster to haunt her nightmares. "Tabs! What the fuck is going on? Where are you?" Petra's shrill voice blared through the phone's tinny speaker, still clutched in Tabby's limp hand. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and put the phone back to her ear. "My car died," she croaked. "Can you...do you think you could come get me?" she asked, feeling her headache tighten around her skull like a giant's fist.