And then I hear it.
A voice.
Thin.
Scated
“Please stop.”
My blood turns to ice.
I move faster, feet silent now, instincts kicking in without thought, every muscle coiled tight.
I round the corner into another alley and see her.
Surrounded.
Three guys-maybe college-age, maybe older-towering over her, crowding her against the brick wall.
One has his hand on her arm, rubbing slow circles into the fabric of her sleeve.
Another has s her dance bag dangling from his wrist, smirking like he just found a new toy.
The third stands behind her, too close, breathing down her neck.
I catch the tail end of their ugly laughter, their words slurring together.
‘C’mon, baby… what’re you to scared of? You’re in toft..
**You’re out here alone… what were you expecting?”
Penny’s face is pale, her mouth trembling, tears glassing over her wide eyes
And something inside me
I move before I think.
Before I breathe.
Before anything else matters.
Three steps and I’m there, towering over them, my body a wall between her and them.
They all turn, startled, sizing n me up with the cocky confidence of drunk k idiots who’ve never lost a fight they didn’t pick fair.
One of them-hag still dangling from his hand-steps forward, sneering
“Get lost, old man,” he says, laughing
I crack my knuckles,
“You have one chance,” I say, voice low and lethal, the calm before a storm.
“Or what?” the one touching Penny sneers, squeezing her arm hard enough to make her flinch.
It’s the last thing he does.
In a flash, I grab his wrist, twist it back sharply until h
The second one funges- he cries out, the bag dropping to the ground with a clatter.
I dodge easily, plant a fist in his gut, watch him crumple like paper.
The third besitates too long-
I shove him hard against the wall, the
, the breath leaving his lungs in a startled wheeze.
In less than ten seconds, all three of them are on the ground, groaning, clutching themselves, wide-eyed with the kind of fear that only comes when you realize too late you picked a fight you were never going to win.
I turn, planting myself between them and Penny, during them w every inch of my body to try again.
They don’t
They scramble to their feet and run, cursing and tripping over each other, disappearing into the shadows.
I stand there for a second, breathing hard, hands clenched at my
And then I turn.
Penny stands frozen against the wall, shaking so hard I can see it from here, her hands trembling, her lip quivering, tears spilling over onto her flushed checks.
My chest twists, hard and painful.
I step toward her, slow and careful like approaching a wounded animal, but she doesn’t move.
Just stands there, shivering, small and breakable and so much braver than she should ever have had to be.
And 1-
I don’t know what the hell to do next.
The second those gas disappear down the alley, the second the danger is technically gone, I turn hack in her-and the anger, the fury, the adrenaline that’s been barely held together inside me finally snaps loose.
She’s standing there, small and shaking and trying to look heaver than she feels, and something about it-something about her-makes the anger hit even handles,
“What the hell were you thinking?” I hark, stepping closer before I can stop myself, the words taw and sharp.
She flinches, just barely, but lifts her chin, trying to stand taller, trying to meet me head-on even though she’s trembling so hard I can see it in the tense lines of her body.
It only makes me angrier.
“You could’ve been hurt,” I snap, slamming my palm into the wall just over her head, the crack of impact echoing down the alley.
She gasps, shrinking back instinctively, and I lean in, every muscle in my body thrumming with barely contained rage.
“You could’ve been=” I break off, breathing hard, swallowing the word that almost slips out-killed-and clenching my tightly my knuckles ache. my sides so fists at my
“You’re so stubborn,” I hiss, the words falling like punches. “You think you’re invincible? Because you can walk home alone for ten minutes and get lucky that no one-
She stares up at me, wide-eyed, shaking, her hands fisted at her sides, trying so hard to look defiant.
Trying and failing
“You’re a spoiled little princess who doesn’t have a clue how dangerous this world is,” I bite out, the words coming too fast, too sharp. fueled by something hotter and uglier than anything I’m ready to name. You think you can do whatever you want and nothing bad will happen because it hasn’t yet. But the world doesn’t work like that. People like you-*
I stop.
Because she’s trembling so hard now that her teeth are almost chattering, her lip quivering despite how hard she’s clearly trying to lock it down, to hold herself upright in front of me.
I slam my eyes shut for a second, breathing in through my nose, forcing the surge of rage back down into the pit of my stomach where it belongs.
Islam my hand harder into the brick wall one last time, the vibration crawling up my arm, grounding me.
When I open my eyes again, I step back, just slightly, just enough to give her air.
“You can’t be reckless with your safety,” I say, lower now, rough but controlled, dragging the words out slow and deliberate like they’re custer me something. “You can’t
She blinks up at me, tears spilling faster now, but she drags her sleeve across her face, forcing herself to stand straight.
‘I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking in the middle.
It twists something inside me.
Something deep and awful and protective in a way I don’t want to think too hard about.
|I exhale sharply and mutter, “Come on.
I start to turn, walking a few steps toward the mouth of the alley, but I hear the faint stumble of her feet behind me, the scrape of makers an uneven ground, and when I glance hack over my shoulder, the’s off halance, for hag slipping from her shoulder, her knees backling hurt. slightly
I mme last, catching her by the elbows, steadying her.
The second my hand closes around her arm, she winces.
Not dramatically.
Not even audibly
Just the sharp little intake of breath, the quick stiffening of her muscles under my grip.
I frown, looking down at where my fingers curl around the delicate curve of her arm-and that’s when I see it.
The bruise.
Already darkening
Already blooming red and blue in the faint shape of fingers along her pale skin.
Rage slams back into me so me so fast I almost See red.
I let go instantly, stepping back like I’ve been burned.
“Let me see,” I say, low and rough.
She hesitates, wide-eyed and wary, like she thinks I’m going to yell at her again.
But after a second, she sighs and pushes the sleeve of her bolero down, revealing the full ugly shape of it.
It’s worse than I thought.
It’s not just a handprint.
It’s angry
It’s deep.
The asshole squeezed her so hard he left a mark she’ll probably still have days from now
My fists clench, the urge to find them and finish what I started burning bright and blinding through every inch of me.
Without thinking, I start walking toward the direction they ran.
I’m halfway there when I feel her.
Tiny hands grabbing at my forearm, trying to hold me back with all the strength she bes, which isn’t much, but it’s enough to make me stop.
“Asher,” she says, her voice shaking, her fingers tightening. “Don’t leave me.”
It guts me.
More than anything else tonight.
I turn slowly, looking down at her. they way her hands cling to me like I’m the last solid thing left in world that’s falling apart.
At the way her eyes still glassy with tears-plead with me in a way that goes way deeper than just don’t fight them.
Don’t leave me alone.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.