Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 154595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
“What the fuck is going on here!” a man yelled.
Suddenly the guy that had been pinning her to the wall was ripped away. It took all of her strength to stay standing. She heaved for breath, her body shaking as she watched the man who’d yelled slam his fist into Garbage-feet’s face, making him stumble back onto his ass. He turned as Fishy-breath ran at him, tackling him to the ground.
Oh no! He was probably some good Samaritan who didn’t have a clue what he was doing and she was going to get him killed.
Nope. Not on her watch.
She had to help. Frog-face was now up. All three of them were going to gang up on him. She glanced around, searching for something. The only thing she could think to use . . .
Was her purple velvet shoes.
Aww. Damn. Reaching down, she quickly took off her shoes as her hero got to his feet, pummeling his fists into Fishy-breath. Damn, he was good. Unfortunately, Frog-face was joining. Two against one was not fair.
With a loud scream, because, well, it just seemed appropriate, she raced at Fishy-breath. She jumped on his back, her shoes held tight in each hand as she tried to strike at his face.
He roared, spinning around and throwing her off. She landed heavily on her ass.
Ouch! Shoot.
He raced at her and she threw her hands up to fend him off.
This was bad. This was very bad.
But he never reached her. There was a pounding noise and someone yelled something. When she finally opened her eyes, she realized the alleyway was silent. Well, except for her breath. It sounded like she’d run a marathon.
Why couldn’t she get her heart to stop racing so much?
Her hand shook as she placed it over her racing heart. What was wrong with her?
She glanced around.
Fishy-breath lay on the ground. She didn’t know where the other two had gone. And her hero had disappeared.
Where was he?
Suddenly, she heard loud footsteps.
Gasping, she scrambled backward. Something squished under her hand. Gross. Probably a good thing it was so dark back here.
She swallowed heavily, trying to calm herself.
Was he going to turn on her now? Had he fought these guys off just to harm her? And why the hell wasn’t she running or screaming or something? She seemed to be almost paralyzed.
“It’s all right.” He moved slower, raising his hands in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you. Promise.”
She shouldn’t believe him. But he had fought off those assholes for her.
He turned to Fishy-breath, checking for a pulse.
“Is he . . . is he dead?” Okay, so she could speak.
“No, unfortunately.” He rolled Fishy-breath onto his front, then drew something from his back pocket before securing Fishy-breath’s hands behind his back.
“You’re sad he’s not dead?” she asked. She really wished she could stop shaking, she was starting to feel ill.
Do not vomit on your hero. Do not vomit on your hero.
He moved slowly over to her. When he was a few feet away, he crouched down, eyeing her. She wished she could see his face more clearly, but most of it was shadowed. She thought it was likely a nice face. He seemed like a kind man. He was probably just some normal guy who’d been walking along, having a normal night and then he’d gotten pulled into all of this.
A nice man who’d managed to run off three assholes.
“They attacked you. Likely would have raped you. Yeah, I wish they were dead. They don’t deserve to live. Two of the fuckers got away, but at least I have this one.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. She was starting to shake. Delayed reaction?
“Yeah, but think about the l-laundry.”
“What?” he asked.
“If t-they were dead, there would be m-more blood, right? And it’s s-such a nuisance t-to get blood out of your clothes.”
“Know a bit about getting blood out of clothes, do you?”
“Not really.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I know. It’s s-so annoying. I don’t know why I’m s-shaking now and not before.”
“Sometimes, when you’re in the moment, your adrenaline peaks and it isn’t until it’s over and you crash that you start to feel weird. Come on, let’s get you out of here in case they come back with some friends.”
Darn. She hadn’t even thought of that. He held out his hands and she slipped hers into them.
“Shit, girl, you’re freezing.”
“Adrenaline crash.”
“Or not enough clothing on. It’s freezing out tonight. You shouldn’t be in a light coat and dress.”
“Who a-are you?” she asked as he drew her to her feet.
“Gray Hawkins.”
“I’m Maeve Staples. T-thanks for helping m-me, Gray.”
He just stared down at her.
“Are you going to c-call the police?” she asked.
“No.”
“Oh. But you t-tied him up.” Her shaking was starting to ease, thankfully.
“Yeah, so he wouldn’t get away. Don’t worry about him. Or those other assholes.”
How could she not worry? But she guessed at least she wasn’t likely to see them again. What now? What was she supposed to do?