Ana Oliveira

Present Day...

You know when something scares you so much that suddenly everything seems to go silent? I was no longer in a crowded bar with people chattering away; I found myself in a dark limbo where two viperous eyes promised to devour me.

Josiah was seated in one of the VIP lounge chairs, surrounded by Harry, Isa, and a bunch of tattooed bad boys, looking like one of those rock clubs every city had. They were the kind of people you could have two thoughts about: either they were cool and you wanted to be part of their group, or they were assholes you needed to stay away from. I always went with the latter.

He looked good, sprawled in the chair with his legs spread, back pressing against the backrest, and a bottle of water held between his large fingers. Between sips, he stared at my flirtatious object of interest. His gaze was intense, filled with promises of death. Josiah was dressed in black pants, matching boots, and a night-colored shirt.

“I tried to warn you he was here, but you weren’t listening,” Luana whispered, stumbling over her words.

“Shit!” I murmured, scratching my head.

“Wow! It’s been ages since I’ve seen Josiah, and suddenly, he appears like he came out of the sewer.”

Luana’s comment made me chuckle. I was so engrossed in my flirtation that I didn’t notice the group arriving. Fate loved playing these tricks, didn’t it? What were the odds he’d come from Tijuca, where we lived, to the same bar I was at in Lapa at the same time? Damn!

“What’s wrong?” the guy I was flirting with asked. “Do you know that man? You’re looking at him like he’s your boyfriend…”

“No. He’s just her asshole cousin!” I explained, standing up from the chair. “One moment,” I said. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

I needed to get out of there. I walked around, switching feet, looking around for a sign indicating the bathroom. When I realized it would be impossible to read anything because my vision was slightly blurred from the distance, I flagged down a waiter, who pointed me down the corridor to my destination.

As I noted that to get there I’d have to pass by the “VIP” table, I saw Isabela clinging to Josiah’s lap. The girl didn’t notice me as she laughed with one of the burly guys handing her a cup with some bluish drink. Several tables were placed in front of the sofas, filled with buckets, some with spirits and energy drinks, others holding various beer bottles. Ignoring the burning sensation in my eyes and the lump in my throat from that scene, I walked past them, lowering my head to avoid being seen by anyone in that disgusting group.

I turned into the narrow corridor, bumping into a citrus-scented male chest. Looking up, I saw a white smile with thick, outlined lips, and froze. I knew what was coming next:

“Look who’s here!” Harry shouted, grabbing my shoulder as I tried to escape his grip. “The crazy…”

“Get lost!” I snapped through gritted teeth.

I heard Isabela make a comment, causing snickers among Josiah’s crowd. I clenched my teeth. I just wanted to run away from the burning stares behind me, from the stupid jokes whispered amid the chaos of Josiah’s friends.

“Calm down, crazy girl!” Harry said, stepping aside with his sleazy swagger in dark jogger pants and a terribly low-cut shirt, showcasing his chest muscles and silver nipple piercings.

I ran to the bathroom, pushing open the red door with force and reaching the vast black marble countertop in front of a large mirror. Damn! I felt cornered when I was near that group of ravens. I was so nervous that my hands were shaking. I stared at my reflection, panting, noticing I was a bit sweaty, with mascara slightly smudged, probably from tearing up when I saw Isabela making out with him…

I didn’t know how things had gotten to that point between the two of them. I didn’t know if they were in a relationship, friends with benefits, or if they only did that when I was watching. But they did, and it always affected me.

I breathed, trembling, trying to calm down, then noticed the wet patch around my left breast.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I whispered, entering a stall and grabbing a wad of toilet paper.

I tried to dry the cropped top from the outside, and when that didn’t work, I repeated the gesture from the inside.

“Damn it!” I yelled, tossing the paper into the toilet and flushing the metal handle on the wall. “This was supposed to be the perfect night…”

I left the stall, washed my hands at the sink, and dried them, trying to control my urge to freak out. When I looked at the stains in the mirror, I jumped slightly. Josiah entered the bathroom and leaned against the red door with his muscular arms crossed. My heart started pounding so hard it felt like a drum in my ears. I stepped away from the mirror, scared, staring into his gaze and mysterious expression.

“Don’t come in here!” I warned.

“Oh, really?” he mocked, raising an eyebrow. “I think I already have, haven’t I?”

“Get out of the way!” I ordered, clenching my jaw with anger. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m not moving, Sweetheart. You can scream if you want; my guys are outside holding the door. They’ll only open it when I say so,” he whispered, crossing his strong arms. “And I’m not in the mood to do that right now.”

I stepped back as he began taking slow strides toward me, the sound of his heavy boots contrasting with the soft music playing from the ceiling speaker. I took tiny steps back until I felt the cold brick wall against my back. He was getting closer. When I thought he would stop, because there was no more space left, Josiah grabbed my hips, lifting me and slamming me forcefully onto the black countertop.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to push against his chest.

He laughed when my push didn’t even tickle him. My whole body warmed up from his touch, and it was infuriating how he made me feel. I felt my blood boiling as it coursed through me, while his warm breath brushed my face, sending shivers across my body. Josiah didn’t remove his hands from my hips.

“And you?” he asked, smiling as he lifted his right hand to my face, using the back of his index finger to caress my cheek. “Left the Little One at home to get a hookup in Lapa? This wasn’t how you imagined being at twenty-two…”

His provocation hit me like a blow. I swallowed hard and fought to hold back the tears with fury. He knew me so well that he always hit the right points. I understood the mention of the past, speaking about how I imagined adulthood, my personal failures... But the lowest blow was mentioning my daughter.

“Don’t talk about her, damn it!” I shouted, tears streaming down my cheeks. “And don’t ever call her that again!”

“Not call her that? Call her what?” he feigned ignorance, rubbing his finger across one of my tears. I shuddered under his touch, trying to pull away, my heart aching from the closeness, the smell, the pain of seeing what he had become. I sobbed when Josiah brought his finger to his mouth, tasted my tear, and smiled. “Stop the drama, Ana! I only spoke the truth. You left the Little One with Marta to get some sex…”

Before he could finish the sentence, I slapped him across the face, hearing a sharp crack. I glared at his surprised expression with hatred, trying to push him away from my legs. Josiah smiled bitterly, running his tongue between his teeth, stroking his cheek while his eyes devoured me. I realized my pushes weren’t making him move.

“I’ve already said...” I murmured, slowly bringing my face closer to his, digging my nails into his shirt around his chest. “Don’t talk about her, and don’t call her like she’s not a baby! Just because you pretend Julia doesn’t exist, that she’s just a thing, that she’s not yours…”

“Shut up!” he whispered, contorting his face, trying to back away as if he had been struck.

Fueled by a surge of anger, I jumped off the countertop and shoved him against the wall with so much force that he almost lost his balance. His expression looked lost, dazed.