Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Hey, baby! Who let you out all by yourself tonight?”
There’s a difference between being catcalled and being taunted, and what’s happening right now is the former. Most girls get used to it by the time they’ve hit puberty, if not earlier—men can really be pigs. It’s not hard to ignore them as I walk on, barely catching sight of a trio of men hanging out next to a car like they’re working on it.
“What, you can’t say hi? You know you should smile more,” another of the guys calls out, and I almost stop in my tracks and roll my eyes for all of them to see. Can’t they come up with something a little more original?
They might not be a real threat, but they remind me of something I forgot when I was angry and looking for a way out of the situation: I’m all alone, and there is somebody in the world who has made it their mission to threaten me. Maybe being out here alone at night isn’t the best idea. Our apartment is in a nice neighborhood, pretty safe, but all it takes is ten or fifteen minutes on foot in any direction, and things get a little sketchier.
Right now, I’m in a sort of business district. Only a lot of the shops are closed for the night—the grates pulled. It’s a bleak atmosphere, almost a little sad. I’m sure during the day the street is thriving, bustling, but now it’s dark and empty enough to send a chill down my spine. Still, it’s not completely abandoned. A few people pass on the sidewalk, and I shift to one side to give them more room, keeping my distance.
Behind me, something breaks, shattering on the ground. The sound makes my head snap around—reflex, that’s all—and when I’m not looking where I’m going, I bump into a wall.
No, not a wall. A chest. Just as firm and unforgiving as any wall, though.
“Oh, sorry,” I mumble, ready to step aside and keep going.
But he stops me, matching my movement, a barrier of unyielding flesh.
When I get up the courage to look into his face, the ski mask that covers it makes me fall back a step while a gasp lodges in my throat.
Without saying another word, he grabs my arm—rough, unforgiving—and shoves me into a narrow alley between two buildings. It’s completely dark, deep in shadow, the brick wall behind me icy cold. He shoves me against it hard enough to rattle my bones.
With one arm on either side of me, he’s holding me in place while I pant for air. The only thing I can make out in the darkness is his hard, cruel eyes. They glimmer down at me, and I have to look away, my heart pounding in my chest, my head spinning. I’m going to faint if I don’t breathe, but I can’t breathe. Not when he’s so close to me, close enough that I can barely take a sip of air.
“Please… Please, don’t hurt me,” I whisper, and the words sound ridiculous even through my panic. How pathetic and unoriginal.
And when he laughs, I know how pointless they were, too. Leaning in closer, his breath heating my skin and making me shudder in revulsion at the sensation.
“Just let me go,” I say, as if that would help. I doubt it will. People don’t walk around at night wearing ski masks because they’re feeling friendly. He wants something from me. “I don’t have any money.”
His short, sharp breath sounds surprised before he releases a soft laugh.
A scream shoots into my throat and is about to come out before his hand clamps over my mouth, stifling the sound. I wish I could see more of his face, as much as I don’t want to look into it. It would be easier if he looked more human, I think, but what do I know? My brain is looking for a way through this.
“Stop,” I beg when his other hand slides down my side, but it only comes out as a muffled whine. Now I’m afraid I’m going to throw up. Or maybe my heart will give out and I’ll die here and now in this dark, narrow alley where it’s so cold and the smell of garbage and urine are almost strong enough to overcome the smell of his breath in my face. Sort of minty, like he just chewed gum. It’s the one tiny mercy out of all of this.
He shakes his head, his fingers crawling down my hip, around to my ass. Tears roll down my cheeks and onto his hand while he laughs softly at my fear and disgust.
Suddenly, his touch is hard, unforgiving, almost brutal as he grabs my throat in one hand. Trying to protect myself, my arms fly up, and I dig my fingers into his arm. I try to push him away with all my strength, but he is too strong. With his free hand he pulls something from his jeans.