With mesh gauze wrapped around her wrist where the wretched dog had bitten her and make-up covering her bruised face again, Jessica found her way to Club Frixtion, which was just on the fringes of the Downtown area. It was about 9:30 in the morning, a beautiful sun-filled day to be out of the Gutters. In contrast to the Gutters, the sidewalks and streets were for the most part lacking piles of garbage. Businesses were up and running; booming really with towering skyscrapers that appeared to touch the clouds. Couples held hands; children played. People drove the latest cars here, including beta versions of the hover car that hovered just twelve inches off the road. Yet the hover cars were reserved for the wealthy of the wealthiest. People seemed happier here and this alone dimmed Jessica's esteem. When will she get the chance to be this happy? All she have known thus far, is pain and disappointment.

Mario was already there in front of the establishment, leaning against his black Audi police car waiting on her. "You know I could have gotten you here much earlier if you'd allowed me to pick you up," he said, taking off his black shades.

"Am I not here now?" She finally came to a stop near him, crossing her arms.

"What happened to your wrist?" He quickly noticed, taking hold of her right hand.

"I burned myself on the stove…this morning,” she watched as he held her hand tenderly in his hands; his facial expression saddened by her injury. Dear God, why is this man looking at my hand like this? It’s not a baby. Please make him let me go. “Like I said…the stove and I have never really been friends over the years. I have the scars to prove it," she then tried to laugh it off, pulling her hand away from his. "So, are we going inside or what?" She went on, hoping to change the subject. But Mario held his suspicion.

Little from this, they walked into the club and found a blond-haired man with a white shirt tucked in his blue Wrangler jeans pants. He was at the bar stocking and counting the liquor bottles with the bartender, who wore a sleeveless shirt to show off his huge, tattooed biceps.

"Sorry, we don't open until nine this evening," the man with his shirt tucked in his jeans informed them with a heavy Russian accent.

"I'm Detective Mario Reynolds. I'm with the Beacon City Police Department," he showed them his badge. "The woman beside me is Jessica Isaacs. Who might you be?"

"Nikolai Skalskyi, the manager. Detective, my business is already licensed. I have the documents to prove it—"

"No. That is not why we're here. Mr. Skalskyi, I'm looking for two missing girls. One of them is her sister. This was the last place they were believed to have visited."

"Detective, this nightclub is frequented by many girls. You will have to be a little more specific."

"Their names are Nelly Prendergast and Laurel Isaacs," Jessica stepped in front of the detective, pushing one of the missing person flyers of both girls in the manager's face.

"Like I said to the detective, 'many girls'," Nikolai arrogantly responded to her. The bartender, who was pretending to be busy stocking his bar shelves, then gave them a bad look from the corner of his eyes.

"I've noticed that this place is loaded with cameras. If you don’t mind, I want to take a look at your archival footage on March the thirty-first," Mario asked after looking in all the nooks and crannies of the club's decorative ceiling.

"Of course, detective... Just as soon as you present to me a certified warrant."

"Why does he need to present a warrant? We just want to see your footage of that specific night. My sister was here. That's a fact. We just wanted to see who she was with."

"Be that as it may, Miss Isaacs, I have to protect the interests of my business. Get the warrant and I'll let you see whatever it is you want."

"Urg! This is ridiculous," Jessica threw her hands up in the air.

"Come on Jessica," Mario compelled her as he turned around to leave. So, she bitterly left with him after some time panting. Nikolai and his bartender thereafter watched them with contempt as they left.

Back on the sidewalk where they were immediately met with the city noise yet again, Jessica asked, "That's it?! You're just going to give up?"

"I'm not giving up—"

"You didn't even stand your ground in there! What kinda cop are you?! Oh my God," she clasped her head, turning her back to Mario. "What am I going to do now?"

"I'm going to get that warrant."

"And how long will that take?" She turned around.

"Somewhere between now and tomorrow."

"We don't have that long. My sister could be dying while we wait."

"And you're certain this was the last place she was?"

"Yes. This guy she was dating told me so. He was the one who mentioned that she was with this guy. I told you this before."

"I remembered. I was just checking. But I don't know what else to tell you. Jessica, my hands are tied. I can't do anything without the warrant."

"Mario, I can't go back home and wait. I can't."

Suddenly, Mario looked down at her hand and saw three distinctive red spots on her white gauze. It was bleeding, he deduced, as the spots were not there ten minutes ago. Immediately, he took a firm hold of her hand. "These are puncture marks, aren't they?! You said you were burnt?"

"I was. Now let go of my hand!" she tore her hand from his tight grip.

"You're lying. It was him, wasn't it?" Mario questioned her, but she stubbornly remained quiet out of shock of being confronted. "Look, I understand that you are afraid of him. But just say the word and he'll be in a cell today…before the sun goes down."

"No."

"I don't think you understand. You don't have to deal with his shit anymore. He could be out of your life for good. Just say yes," Mario literally was begging her.

"I do understand, and my answer is still no. Let me make something very clear between us. It is my sister that needs your help, detective. Not me. I'm not a damsel in distress. I don't need another man saving me, because, believe it or not, that is what he's doing."

"What are you talking about, Jessica?" He quickly frowned at her. "The man is inflicting physical harm to you for Christ's sake. He belongs in prison!"

"That is what you choose to see, but without him, I don't know how my sister and I would have made it this far. When I lost my job at a diner after it was shot-up, he was the only one there to help me up. At the time, Laurel was at risk of being taken away by the state and put into a foster home. I could not allow that to happen. She needed to attend school. We needed food...clothes. The bills needed to be paid. Tony was my only solution. Sure, he hits me around now and again, but what is that compared to losing my sister? She’s the only family I have left in this friggin world. I’d do anything to protect her…to give her the life I never had." She looked away towards the ground.

"No, Jessica. You deserve better than this—"

"Don't you think I know that?!" She looked him straight in the face. "I mean, don't you think I had plans...dreams...ambitions before all this? A life where I was successful and independent... A future where I didn't have to depend on anyone, let alone a man? Well, I did! But guess what, buddy, life happened. For once, I had to put my sister and her wellbeing first. I had to make the ultimate sacrifice. I had to take the back seat. That is the promise I made to our parents at their funeral...after they left us alone in this world."

"Not every man is like him, Jessica. Other men only want a woman who they can love with all their heart...all their soul. You don't have to settle for the worst," he spoke from his heart.

"I'm so sick and tired of hearing that—that there are 'better men out there, Jessica...that you deserve better, Jessica'. I'm so sick and tired of hearing that!"

"That's because it is the truth."

"Well, there is no guarantee of that. For all I know, I could be taking the devil upon myself... Someone much worse than Tony. No thanks, I'll stick with the evil I know 'til better come. Who knows? Maybe I'll be lucky, and he'll change," her face dropped.

"And what if he doesn't? What if you die waiting for him to change?"

"Well, I guess then that will be my downfall."

"It doesn't have to be," Mario said with much conviction, taking out a card from his brown leather wallet. "When I'm not busy catching criminals, I offer one-on-one boxing lessons at The Miracle Men's Gym and Boxing Club over on Union Street. I also teach self-defense and some mixed martial arts. You should stop by. Blow some steam off. If you're going to continue to live with an animal, you must at least know how to defend yourself should things get out of control," he offered her to take his card.

But she refused to take his card, saying, "Sorry, but I don't need your help."

"I've seen many toxic, abusive relationships like yours. Things almost always progressively get worse. So will you stop being so difficult and take the damn card? Please."

"I don't have any money to pay you."

"It's alright. It'll be on the house," he persisted, holding his hand out with the card.

"Why do you care so much?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"Why shouldn't I? Just take it."

Indecisively and cautiously, she went ahead to take his card and said, "No promises."

"Fair enough. Take your time, but know that I'll be waiting for you then. Right now, I'm gonna head to City Hall and see if I can get the warrant. But first, do you need a lift back to your house?"

"No, I have to meet someone soon around the corner," she said.

"Okay. I'll call you when I have the warrant," he opened his car door to get in.

"Okay," she agreed, watching him as he got in his car and drove off. Shortly after that, she stopped a taxi and went in. "Maryland Close," she instructed the taxi driver.

Just above her, five-stories up, was a private room in the club and Nikolai, with a phone to his ear, watching as the taxi drove away with her. In his ear, the phone was ringing until the person at the other end of the call answered, "What?" A woman with a strong French accent answered.

"They were here. They were asking for the two girls. I managed to send them away, but next time, they're going to come back with a warrant to search the club. What should I do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No, you didn't." A drop of sweat streamed down his forehead.

"Good. I'll reach out to my contacts in the BCPD."

"Okay," Nikolai said after the person had long ended the call. "It looks like I won't have to kill you and dump your bodies in the harbor after all," he then stooped down, smiling maniacally at Laurel and Nelly, who were both tied up and on the ground trembling with tears.

Up next- Chapter 5: Four Days Gone