Page 10 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)
Dismissing her depressed thoughts, she splayed her fingers on the kitchen’s one-meter-long counter housing a reheater with a wall-mounted boiler above it.
Prepping chicken-flavored noodles wouldn’t take her long.
Next to the counter was the sol-bath and a slide-out toilet.
On the opposite wall was a flip-down table and chair, a dry-cleaning drawer referred to as a wash-box, and hidden closets.
At the very end was her bed, spanning the width of the cabin.
By the flickering lights, she had to assume she had a view—wasted on a blind woman.
She slumped. That smacked of bitterness. Which she’d been working on since her parents checked Jamie into some fancy rehabilitation clinic.
She stared at the view, trying to imagine what she’d see if she could…see. All while scooping noodles into her mouth. As meals went, she’d had better dorm food. But beggars couldn’t be choosy.
Who was her rescuer? She wished he’d given her his name. He was right to suggest installing sec cams. Though, she couldn’t see Celestial willingly spending that much. She couldn’t expect them to either.
After disposing of the container, she activated the sol-bath, rubbing her stuffed stomach. A nap maybe, then she’d dress and head downstairs to the club. She stripped out of her uniform and tossed it into the wash-box. By tomorrow morning, it would be clean and ready for her.
She swallowed, stroked her neck, then grimaced.
As a blind person in a new environment, the sting of bruises was far too familiar.
Other than that, she was lucky to be alive.
While she sat on the sol-bath plate, she let it spin her.
The scent of heat lingered but not that of sunbaked rock, nor the hint of lavender for those wealthy enough to purchase the better-quality sol-baths.
She pondered the state of her life. This was it.
She raised her arms so the ray could reach her pits.
Her hair tickled her chin, somehow disturbed when the air flow was minimal.
Gone were the days when a dye job faded.
Hers was purple to match her stage persona.
She didn’t care what color it was when she wouldn’t see it anyway.
Whether it suited her face or not didn’t matter either.
After her near-death experience, sleep would be elusive, so perhaps, arriving at the club earlier meant she could leave when her six hours were up.
Besides, if she stayed, the last hour would settle in her mind and deepen her depression.
There was no one she could talk to about it.
Dad would use it as the reason she should come home—that she couldn’t survive on her own, especially in space.
So, to work she’d go. Wiggling into her skintight jumpsuit took more energy than she possessed.
Minutes later, with her hair gelled flat and slippers on her feet, she took the pod to the basement.
The thump of a deep, resonating beat reached her.
In went her ear plugs to lessen the impact of high decibels on her hearing.
The bass traveled up through her feet, forcing her heartbeat to align.
“You’re early,” Cindy yelled, looping an arm through Tiny’s to usher her to the dance cage.
“Been one of those days, babe,” she said, plastering on a smile. “How’s the clientele?”
Cindy snorted. “The same.” She yanked on the lever to lower the cage, then helped Tiny step inside.
She was told purple lights strobed around her when she danced. It had to look good, or she would’ve lost this job. Informing Axel, her other boss, that she was blind had made no impact.
He’d almost sounded bored when he said, “Dancing doesn’t need sight, only rhythm.”
“Is my weight an issue?” she’d asked. By the rolls around her middle, she could only think she’d been stress eating. Food didn’t judge.
“No,” was his response.
She stood in a cage, only being lowered every hour for five minutes to rehydrate or for a pee break. Some waitresses asked her if she lost her mind up there. No, not when she wore no label. She doubted any observer would realize she was blind. None of that mattered.
Time flew by, measured in increments of pee breaks.
Many songs were her favorites, reminding her of days long gone.
Down she went, was ushered to the bathroom then handed a bottle of water.
Here, she didn’t need to count her steps.
With the milling crowds, the landscape was forever altering.
Axel hadn’t instructed his staff to help her, but a few had taken it upon themselves to do just that.
Depending on the shifts, she could count on Cindy or Liza or whichever bouncer was nearest.
With one more hour to go, Tiny sipped her water, gazing into the club at random. She had no idea how large it was, where the music came from, where the bar was, or what was below her cage. In the shifting darkness, she had to use her imagination.
Someone bumped her from behind, spilling water down the front of her jumpsuit. As welcome as the cool liquid was against her sweaty cleavage, she still hissed.
“Oh, so sorry, sweetheart,” a man drawled.
Her skin itched when he gripped her hip and tugged her against him.
“Unhand me, sir,” she snapped, shoving at his chest.
He didn’t smell bad except for the staleness of alcohol… His beer breath fanned her face, roiling her stomach.
Instead of releasing her, he pulled her closer. “Pretty little thing like you…” When he nuzzled her throat, her bruises stung.
She whimpered while squirming, trying to wriggle free.
“Hey,” Cindy said, grabbed Tiny’s arm, and yanked. “Let her go.”
“Go away. Lady Purple and I are just getting acquainted.”
Cindy huffed, the mint-scented puff of her frustration blowing across Tiny’s cheek.
Tiny stomped on the man’s boot, but her slippered feet had no effect. Parts of her that hadn’t been touched since med school pinged at his abuse. The urge to vomit gripped her, but she swallowed, shut her eyes, and prayed for help.
When cool air bathed her chest, the man’s hands no longer touching her, she almost sobbed.
Miracles do happen , she wanted to scream.
And twice on the same day. A fist connecting with the man’s jaw followed.
She staggered back, away from the scrambling of feet on a sticky floor.
When she bumped into a wall, she stilled, not sure where she was.
She hadn’t been this lost in a long while.
Fear coiled in her belly, and she squatted, curling into a ball.
When someone seized her under her arms, she cried out and swatted at the hands.
“Getting yourself into trouble again, cupcake,’ her hero said, the gentle humor in his voice welcome. “Maybe another job would be safer.”
She faced the direction of his voice, on the verge of gushing her gratitude. His words sank in, and she glared, instead. Another job? Was he kidding? Did he have any idea how hard it was to find work as someone ‘helpless?’
“Well, if you know of anyone hiring blind doctors, call me.” Her tone dripped venom and ingratitude.
There was no helping that. Exhaustion had stretched her energy reserves thin. Her neck throbbed, her throat was scratchy when she swallowed, and her willingness to face whatever life threw at her with as much dignity as she could? Farg, that had evaporated along with her patience.
“I see,” he said then laughed. “No joke intended. I may know of an ice hauler in need of a medic. You interested?”
She gaped, then snapped her mouth shut. Squaring her shoulders, she raised her chin as if to meet his gaze. “I might be.”
“We don’t need medical treatment that often, but it would be handy having you onboard.” He caught her fingers and pulled her forward. “Name’s Dieter, Finish your shift while I make a call. I’m gonna see what Captain has to say.”
She smiled. “For real?”
With a grip on her hip, he sent her inside the cage. “Would I lie to a blind woman?”
She didn’t get to answer when the cage cranked upward. Oh, Lord, she hoped he was sincere. Quitting would break Maddy’s heart. The woman had been nothing but kind to Tiny but leaving would save Celestial a security upgrade.
She danced by rote as excitement pinged through her. She was giddy, unable to draw deep enough breaths while she considered the possibility of being a doctor. It had been her dream for so long, and if she could find her place in the universe, perhaps her life could return to normal.
She’d never be the Tinika she’d been pre-blindness, but she might recover her lost joie de vivre . Her heartbeat scattered when the cage lowered. This was it.
Tonight, she might be packing.
Or sobbing.
Would her hero save her for the third time?