Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
It was something I probably wouldn’t have given too much thought to before. But now, I felt sweat prickling my neck as I climbed out of my car.
I eyed the dumpsters like the men would be hanging around there, beating on another one of my neighbors.
There was nothing. Save for the rustling and chewing sounds of, I imagined, rats, since the dumpsters had overflowed and spilled bags onto the ground.
My nose wrinkled at the rotting smells of hot garbage as I ducked my head and walked a little more quickly, feeling like I wouldn’t be able to breathe fully again until I was behind my locked door. After a sweep of my entire apartment, of course. It was another new ritual of mine that I hoped wouldn’t be hard to shake.
I was reaching to pull the scrunchie that had my key attached off of my wrist as I rounded the corner of the building.
I heard the breath of them behind me just a second too late to react.
By the time my breath sucked in, planning to scream, even if I didn’t know if anyone would actually come running, hands were grabbing my arms, turning me, and slamming me face-first into the brick wall.
Too fast to throw out my arms to brace myself, to push against the wall, to slow the momentum.
The pain exploded across my nose and spread outward, making my cheeks and eyes hammer with agony.
Tears flooded my eyes and streamed down my cheeks from the impact.
The hand shifted up to the back of my neck.
This time, my reaction was just slightly faster, turning just enough so that when the pressure was applied to my neck, it was my cheek that met the brick.
There was a jagged edge to some of the mortar between the bricks that scraped against my cheek. It was a burning type of pain that was quickly eclipsed by the throbbing pain still taking over my nose.
“You need to mind—“ the voice seethe, his spit touching the shell of my ear.
“Get the fuck away from her,” another voice interjected, making my heart soar even as the hands released me, as the presence of the other man disappeared completely.
I whipped around, my whole body shaking, searching in the darkness for my savior.
I don’t know what I’d been expecting. But a tall, scrawny teenager in clothes about five sizes too big was not the hero I’d anticipated.
His voice sounded deeper than his years. Which, judging by certain facial markers, I would put at only maybe fourteen.
“You okay?” he asked, moving closer.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, reaching up toward my face to grab my nose, feeling the blood immediately start to coat my palm and fingers.
“You should prolly get it looked at. My brother got his nose busted. Didn’t have money to go to the clinic, so he got this nasty-ass bump on it.”
All I managed then was a nod.
“Come on. I’ll walk you back to your car. No one’s gonna mess with you,” he assured me, and I heard a flicking sound that made my gaze move toward his hand, finding a serrated pocketknife in his grip.
“Okay,” I agreed, not knowing much except that there was no way I could make myself walk into that building, make myself a sitting duck in my apartment.
I fell into step beside the kid who, sadly, did seem capable of defending me if he should need to. But that was what this neighborhood did to kids who probably should have been doing kid stuff like playing basketball or video games. Not carrying knives and defending women.
“Why’d you take it down?” he asked as we walked.
“What?” I asked, trying to resist the urge to sniffle, not wanting the blood to trickle down my throat.
“The whiteboard. Why’d you take it down?”
That was him?
My savior was the kid I’d been bonding with via little sketches on my whiteboard?
“I got a message,” I admitted.
“Same kinda message you got tonight?” he asked, wise beyond his years.
“Kind of.”
“You need a boyfriend,” he told me, confident that a man would solve all my problems. “Or a dog,” he added. “Big, mean one.”
That was something I hadn’t considered. That I might have to give some thought to.
“This is you, right?” he asked as we got to the side of my car.
At my nod, he moved around the car, checking in the windows, even taking my key to pop my trunk and check that too.
“What’s your apartment?” I asked him when he handed me my key back.
“Why?”
“So I can drop by and work on some sketches with—“
“No,” he cut me off. “No, you don’t wanna come to my apartment. I can come to you maybe.”
“Sure. I’d like that. Maybe in a few days, though.”
“Yeah,” he said, wincing at my face.
“Thank you for saving me,” I told him, watching him puff up at the praise.