"Oh, Mr. Reynolds!" I gushed, practically dripping with false enthusiasm. "It's such an honor to have you here. Let me pour you another drink! Here's a toast to you! Don't forget what we discussed."
By now, I was starting to feel dizzy, and the pain in my abdomen grew sharper. I remembered the doctor's warning after my D&C that I shouldn't drink any alcohol. But I was far past that now.
Glancing out the window, I realized Caleb was gone.
The spot where he had been standing was now littered with cigarette butts, but he was nowhere to be found.
Had I lost my bet?
Before I could dwell on it, Mr. Reynolds moved closer, rubbing his hands together as his eyes raked over me. "Miss Dawson, you're feeling hot in all those clothes? Let me help you take them off, baby girl."
He reached for me, pulling at my clothes roughly.
Panic surged through me as revulsion crept up my spine.
Slowly, I moved my thumb towards the emergency number 110 on my phone, ready to call for help.
But in the next second, my phone was snatched away and thrown aside, followed by a burning slap across my face.
"You filthy whore! Do you think you can call the cops on me? Be grateful that I even want to sleep with you!"