Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
After my tears dried into streaks of salt settled on my cheeks, and my breathing faded to a hollow rhythm, she released me and pressed her soft palms to my cheeks. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me. There’s also nothing you have to tell me.”
God … I loved her so much.
Sniffling, I snagged a wad of paper towels and blew my nose, the unladylike sound buying time for me to muster enough courage to keep talking. “I stopped for gas. Went inside to grab a slice of pizza. Came out. And he was there. In a blink. Shoving me against the Jeep.” I drew in a shaky breath and spewed out the rest. “My bag with the pepper spray was in the Jeep on the floor. And everything Dad ever told me about escaping an attacker …” I shrugged. “It just vanished in a cloud of fear. I felt so helpless and weak. He shoved the tip of his knife into me and forced me to the side of the building behind a dumpster. Shoved me to the ground.”
I fisted my shaking hands and hugged my torso, hating the way my whole body relived that night.
“He put the knife to my neck and got on top of me. All I could imagine was my mom seeing it happen from … somewhere. I closed my eyes. And in a blink … he was gone.”
“Gone?” She tipped her head to the side.
“Yes. They found him not too far from the convenience store … dead. Someone slit his throat with the same knife he used while attempting to rape me.”
“Who killed him?”
Another shrug. I didn’t know for sure that it was Slade, so I didn’t say it was him.
“So … someone saved the day, but you don’t know who and they haven’t caught him … or her?”
I nodded.
Her lips twisted to the side, eyes narrowing as I practically heard the whirl of thoughts spinning in her head. “Who was the guy … the one who tried to rape you?”
“Some guy named Stefan Hoover. Twenty-seven. Lived in Nevada. No prior record. He had a wife and a two-year-old son.”
Rubbing her glossed lips together, Jessica nodded slowly while humming. “You need better skills.”
“I don’t think better skills will protect me. It’s not like I tried anything I was taught, and it failed. I just didn’t try. I froze up. You can’t really prepare for something like that to happen through step-by-step role-playing.”
“Then we don’t role-play.”
“I’m not following.” The stiff breeze through the window picked up as if to breathe understanding into my scattered thoughts. I shut it a tad.
“Do you have some good coverup?”
“Coverup as in makeup?”
Jessica nodded, eyeing me like a puzzle with several missing pieces.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because you’re going to need it. I’ll text you an address. Meet me in two hours, bring lots of water to rehydrate.”
“What are we doing?”
She took another sip of her tea and grabbed her purse. “Making sure you never feel helpless again.”
*
Two hours later, I drove to the address. It was an abandoned building, barn-like, that I would normally not go into by myself, but Jessica’s car was parked by the door, so I felt safe.
“What is this?” I asked, inspecting the empty building with the chirp of birds and ruffle of feathers in the rafters, an odd musty stench in the air, and nothing but a cold, dingy dirt floor beneath my feet. The only light was from the holes in the roof, which were numerous so we could see pretty well.
“It’s where you will train.”
“Train with what?”
She unzipped a black bag and pulled out some equipment that looked like something a boxer might use.
“For now, we’ll train with these.” She shoved headgear on me.
I took a step backward. Dirt and tiny rocks crunched beneath my shoes as I gained my footing. “I didn’t know you boxed.”
“I don’t. I spar. Used to spar with your dad all the time.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“He never mentioned that.”
She nodded. “Yeah, well … there’s a lot parents don’t mention to their children. We protect you with lack of knowledge until it starts to harm you. Then … we arm you with things you need to know.”
“Do you have some sort of crash pads or something?”
Moments …
The next moment tipped my world completely on its side. It wasn’t one I cared to remember or collect for my life scrapbook, but it made a mark. Many marks.
Whack!
Jessica punched my face so hard, it knocked me to the ground. The headgear protected my cheek, but my hands and knees and one elbow took a serious hit, like wiping out on a bike where little rocks made tiny cuts along the skin and embedded into my flesh.
“Wh … what the hell?” I wasn’t sure if I should cry, run, or beg for her to never do that again.
“No crash pads, Livy. Men who force women behind dumpsters to rape them don’t care about crash pads. Now … get up.”