The Honeytrap Heartbreaker

2.

"CLIVE!!"

"I didn't hit her that hard!"

The bar felt completely empty but when Ella woke she was surrounded by faces.

"Name honey, what's your name?"

There was a short, bossy lady leaning over her with a flashlight and pulling her eyelids open.

"Ella, Ella White."

"Okay Ella White, can you tell me what happened?"

Images flooded into her head. Darkness. Then Clive angry, walking towards her, dragging her to the ground, but that didn't happen, no, it was his fist, pounding into her face, then the glass smashing behind the bar, darkness flooded her brain again. She was in the back of a car, upside down, the front seats were empty, the iron stench of blood all too real.

Ella bolted upright and rubbed the side of her head where she hit the floor, there was a small bump but she was petrified by the images she'd seen in her head, her pulse was racing and her breathing got quicker and deeper.

"Ella calm down, you're okay now. I just need to know what happened."

"Nothing, nothing happened, I need to go." Her voice trembled over the words.

"Miss we need to check you over at Hospital, you might have concussion."

Overwhelmed and ticking into fight or flight Ella jumped to her feet and ran out of the door.

She could hear them calling after her but she couldn't stay there any longer. The further she ran the closer the ocean breeze felt, eventually she slowed to a walk and regained composure. The beach was beautiful at this time of night, although it couldn't have been that late because there was no one around apart from young couples who were strolling in the sand and the occasional street dealer (it was Miami after all) meaning the bars were still open. Ella walked onto the sand and looking back the lights glistened against the moon, it was such a remarkable city, filled with so much tragedy. Miami was had one of the highest crime rates in the whole of the US, mostly guns and drugs, to most people it would be their worst nightmare but for Ella it was an escape. No matter what you do here someone has always done worse and unless you're in a gang or running drugs no one cares who you are.

The walk home took about three times longer than usual but Ella was grateful for the time to think. It wasn't the first time she'd been hit, although usually it was the woman or their best friend that had been bought along that were throwing the punches, it was the look of anger in his eyes when he threw his fist towards her, all too familiar. Ella put it down to being part of the trade and she was very lucky he caught the side of her head and not her face as it was very difficult trying to lure men into a false sense of security when your eye resembled a plumb. She locked the apartment door behind her, tossed her clothes onto the floor and fell into an exhausted sleep with Frankie at her feet.

Once again the morning rose was bright and brash and Ella was woken by Frankie slobbering over her face. She pushed Frankie away and sat up, her head was pounding but that could have been partly down to the rum not the man punching her in the head. She put on a crop top, leggings and trainers, strapped Frankie into his harness and headed out on her morning run. The beaches were so different in the daylight. Kids and dogs swarmed the sands as parents watched on from their sun loungers. The vendors came out in full force selling all sorts to any tourist they could find: sunglasses, jewellery, gaudy t-shirts and genuinely anything that someone would be willing to waste money on.

People always mistook Ella for a tourist, she stood out like a sore thumb with her Oxfordshire accent but she was so used to the lifestyle here that she was happy with that, it meant nobody ever took the time to get to know her. She would occasionally meet people in bars or restaurants but she'd never leave a number or offer to meet up again, that was the kind of person she was. The only people she truly knew in Miami were her Grandma, Julie the shopkeeper and Adam whose granddad was in the same retirement home as June, and Frankie if he counts. Ella would do her weekly shop every Sunday morning as soon as the shop opened and Julie worked most Sundays so over the last five years that she'd lived here they had become friends. Julie was old enough to be her mother and she did have two kids of her own but Ella liked her because she never asked personal questions, just rambled on about how much trouble her kids were getting in at school and how her partner really deserves a promotion but no-one will take notice. She was the friend Ella needed, no pressure, someone who just wants to rant about their own problems but that was pretty much the complete opposite of Adam.