Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Until three weeks ago. When the flowers started showing up.
I try to tell myself it’s all in my head. I’m stressed out, creating this paranoia. I’m broke. And if I don’t figure out how to pay rent next month, I won’t have a place to call home. Russell always gets what he wants. If I don’t give in to his demands, I’ll be out of a job. Maybe I can convince him to extend my contract until I—
A large hand ropes around my neck, pulling me back into a hard chest. A scream rips from my throat, only to be silenced by the hand squeezing over my mouth. Adrenaline pulses through me as I attempt to fight out of my captor’s hold. I kick back, trying to land between his legs, but he twists us, slamming my body against the brick building. “Please, don’t hurt me,” I plead, but my voice is muffled. He doesn’t reply. His mouth is close to my ear, his hot breath skating along my earlobe. He brushes the tip of his nose to my neck and inhales, smelling me. “Please, I don’t have any money.” My bravado slips, and a tear snakes down my cheek. I don’t know what he wants. Is he going to hurt me? Kill me?
He takes another breath and grinds into me, his erection thrusting against my lower back. My stomach churns. Bile threatens to expel from my throat. I thrash against him, but he’s too strong. He thrusts harder, smashing my forehead against the brick. Sick moans of pleasure fill the space around me as he grinds harder against me. His thumb digs deeper into my neck, and tears rush down my face. He leans in, and I cry out as his tongue presses into my cheek, dragging up my face and licking at the wetness.
Regret washes through me like a tidal wave. Why did I stupidly walk to my car alone? Why can’t I live a normal life and not be such a failure? I choke on my own sobs when the sound of his zipper lowering echoes in the alley. He maneuvers himself, his rough hand briefly letting go of my mouth, and grabs at my yoga pants to tug them down my legs. A hoarse scream rips from my throat, and he covers my mouth tighter. I catch the side of his palm, biting down, and he grunts and thrusts me into the wall. My head makes contact with the brick, making me dizzy, and I lose my grip on his hand.
“Hey—hey! What’re you doing? Hey—get off her!” a man’s voice comes from behind us, and my heart stops. My assailant freezes, his hand suddenly still, and then the coolness of the night air hits my back as he drops me and takes off.
“Holy shit. Are you okay? Did he—fuck. Hold on. I’m calling nine-one-one.”
I fall to the ground, curling into myself. I don’t say anything. My savior presses his hand to my shoulder, and I flinch. “Sorry, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re okay. He’s gone.” Warmth cocoons me, and I open my eyes to see he’s covered me with his jacket. “My name is Vince. What’s yours?”
I don’t answer him. I just want to disappear inside myself and never come back out. “It’s okay. I’m going to sit with you until the police come, okay? Are you hurt?”
My forehead is throbbing. Blood drips from the wound caused by the brutal impact of the brick wall, and there’s no doubt I’ll have bruises from his tight hold around my neck. But I don’t say anything. I lay in the fetal position while the stranger talks to me until we hear sirens.
***
The nurse releases the cuff on my arm, noting my blood pressure, when the door to my room crashes open, causing the poor woman to jump. Fay, my best friend, and her fiancé, Theo, storm in. The moment she gets a glimpse of me, she bursts into tears. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Fay throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I groan at the burst of pain, and she quickly retreats. “Oh my god, I’m sorry—Jesus, Mindy. Did they find the guy who did this? Where are the police? Let me talk to them—”
“Fay, why don’t you get off her and take a breath?” Theo says, reaching for her, but she swats his hand away.
“Not until you tell me who did this. Are you okay? And don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lying. You don’t look okay. Your neck—your forehead—” She starts choking on her own sobs.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” She cries harder.
“I am. Thanks to Vince. He saved me. Who knows what would’ve happened. . .” My thoughts wander to the sick possibilities that could have played out if he hadn’t decided to take out his garbage at that moment.