Stubborn But Broken

Chapter 9

"You can't look at every man I serve like you're going to murder them, Theron." I glared, "They won't tip as well."

He scoffed, eyes immediately softening when meeting my own, "When have I ever done that, Alora?"

"You were literally just doing it two seconds ago, smartass."

Theron chuckled, "I don't want them flirting with you."

I groaned, shoving his shoulder before walking back to the kitchen. I'd been comfortable with my thoughts, re-stocking the desserts and juices until I heard an agonizingly familiar voice.

When I went to tend to my customers, I did my best to look preoccupied, indifferent. But I could hardly focus on the man in front of me as he asked for a meal I forgot to write down, too distracted in the silence between syllables of a man who's tortured me for years. I finally glanced up and my stomach dropped, Jason and Theron were laughing together. Did Theron know who he was talking to? Maybe Theron forgot what he looked like? I couldn't make sense of it, but I was pissed. Theron had fallen for Jason's trickery in a matter of minutes, acting all casual after everything I'd been through.

But it wasn't until I heard on sentence, one stupid fucking sentence, that had the plates I'd been collecting fall from my grip.

"We can't accept anymore customers at the moment, we are closing soon. But you are welcome to join my girlfriend and I for dinner." Said Theron.

Had it not been for the person Theron spoke to, I would have been focused on being referred to as his girlfriend. But Theron had invited my abuser, to his fucking house. For motherfucking dinner?

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Lines formed between Jason's brows. Fake. Fake. Fake concern.

"Yeah," I mumbled, collecting the shards with my bare-hands because that's how out of sorts I was. Within moments, I had sliced through my hand and tears threatened to spill from my eyes. Great. Just fucking great. And I locked myself in the bathroom, wanting time to slow, stop, and speed up all at once. How could Theron do this to me? He knew everything, and yet invited the pervert to be in a closer range with me. My hand was shaking as I bandaged the other one, thankful for the kitchen's medical kit. My chest heaved with each exhausted breath and I fisted my hair to tug at it. Startled, I tripped over my foot, slamming myself into the wall as I heard a knock at the door.

"Alora? The restaurant is closed. We can head home now." Theron's voice leaked of care.

Shit, How long had I been in here?

"Alora?"

I unlocked the door, stomping out from the bathroom out of the store, the man strode after me. I got in the car, slamming the door as he sat in the driver's side, turning the keys in the ignition.

"I had to finish closing before I could tell you, but Jason is—"

"Yeah, I was there." I rolled my eyes, sitting on my injured hand in hopes not to discuss it. I was far too angry to say things I wouldn't regret so I kept quiet. So did he, until we'd pulled into the driveway.

"Alora, I need you to understand—"

I caught sight of Jason's parked car. "No! Don't talk to me right now, Theron. I can't deal with this. I'll be in your room while you have drinks and shit with my abuser." I hopped out, storming into the house.

Although as I rushed up the stairs, I realized I wasn't the only one here. A large number of men stood at Theron's bedroom door. What the fuck? Before I could scream, someone had shoved a hand on my mouth and grabbed me from behind. I soundlessly kicked at my captor but they'd walked me into the bedroom.

I counted seven and the only chance I had to survive was to screech for Theron.

"Fuck off, you're scaring the shit out of her, Zimen." A man with pale hair whispered harshly.

"What was I supposed to do? She was going to scream." The man—Zimen, retorted.

I had stopped fighting, giving up with a sense of lingering curiosity. From the outside, they looked like cold-blooded murderers. So their genuine demeanour caught me by surprise.

"It doesn't look like Theron told her the plan." Another piped up.

Theron? That had my eyes widening. What did Theron have to do with this? The men varied in clothing, wearing dark coloured shirts and leather jackets. They looked like... a biker gang?

"You're chill, we won't hurt you. But you gotta be quiet, alright?" The man's hands went up in defence. "I'm Tyran. We're Theron's buddies. You're Alora, right? And that man downstairs, he's Jason Delcasso." Tyran informed.

"We're on your side," the pale haired man spoke again.

I nodded against the hand clamping my mouth shut, before I was slowly released. Call me an idiot, but that's all I needed to believe them. Let's just hope I will not die because of this.

A booming laughter came from downstairs, startling me. I had never heard Jason laugh so loud.

"Sounds like the drugs are kicking in." Zimen snickered.

Before I could respond, my name had been called from the bottom of the stairs. Jason wanted to see me. I looked at the group around me, fear enveloping my features. Then I heard footsteps. Jason's heavy steps I had memorized in a state of danger. I briskly swung the door open, enough for solely my body to slip through, before marching toward the stairs.

"Sweetie,"

My face scrunched.

Theron raced up behind him in attempt to form a distraction, "Jason, I need to get your opinion on my car's new engine. She roars once you get her going,"

I stepped back as Theron guided the wobbly pervert down the steps. Jason stared back at me, morphing the discussion of a car into a sexual innuendo. "That one's quiet, holds her breath through the whole thing. You know, I always wanted you to be more vocal, sweetie."

And all hell broke loose.