Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 76592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I glance down at the phone still clutched in my hand. I could call 9-1-1. But what if the operator doesn’t pick up quickly? What if they can’t get here in time? What then?
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to walk alone at night?” he asks with a smirk, his words slurred. He reaches toward me.
I flinch back, my heart pounding. “Get away from me,” I say, but it comes out a whisper.
He cocks his head, grinning. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.”
Before I can press the call button, he lunges forward and snatches the phone from my hand. My only means of calling for help is now in the hands of the one person I need to be saved from.
“Nice try,” he says, pocketing my phone.
Fear claws at my insides, but I manage to maintain my composure. I refuse to let him see my fear. I swallow and find my voice. “Fuck off.”
I take a step back, but quick as a whip, he reaches out and grazes my arm. I shudder and pull away from his touch like I’ve been stung. My heart is thundering, my mind racing.
Now what?
Now what?
Now what?
He’s bigger. Stronger. And he has my phone.
I have no other choice but to—
A tall silhouette moves toward us.
Thank God. A wave of relief washes over me.
“Hey!” I shout, my voice echoing through the deserted street.
The man in front of me turns.
I use the opportunity to try to pull away from his grasp.
But it’s too late.
He tightens his grip around my arm, pulling me back against him. “Shut up,” he hisses, his breath hot against my ear.
But the silhouette comes toward us. “Let her go,” the second man says.
“This doesn’t concern you,” my attacker spits out.
But the stranger does not back down. He steps closer, his eyes hard and unflinching. “I said, let her go.”
“Help! Please!” I scream, straining to break free.
The stranger is closer now, close enough that I can make out his features. He’s young, probably not much older than I am. His jaw is rigid, and the intensity in his gaze gives me hope.
“Get off her,” he commands, his voice steady.
The man holding me stiffens. “I said this doesn’t concern you.”
“And I said let her go.”
The assailant looks between the two of us, as if he’s calculating his next move. His grip loosens for a second, just enough for me to wriggle free. I stagger away from him, toward the stranger.
The attacker lunges forward to recapture me, but the stranger is faster. He catches the man by his collar and hauls him off his feet.
“Stay away from her,” the stranger warns as he throws the attacker to the ground.
The man grunts as he lands, but he doesn’t get up. He just lies there, whimpering.
“He’s got my phone!” I shout.
“The phone, asshole,” my rescuer says. “Where is it?”
“Pocket,” the assailant grits out.
The stranger finds the phone and punches the other guy in the face.
He rises and turns toward me, his eyes softening as he reaches out a hand with my phone, “Are you okay?”
I nod and take the phone, too overwhelmed to speak.
He offers a reassuring smile before fishing out his own phone.
“Thank you,” I manage to eke out.
“No problem.” He scans the area. “What are you doing out here alone?”
“I…”
What am I supposed to say to that? That I just kept walking, trying to deal with the fact that I’ve fallen in love and can’t stop ruminating over it when I should be thinking about the amazing educational opportunity I have starting tomorrow?
“It’s okay,” he says. “You’re obviously shaken up. Let me take you to the ER.”
“No. No. I’m fine. Really.”
“The police station, then. You can file a report.”
“I…”
“Come on.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Lance Rodriguez. My brother Skylar is a cop. He’ll know what to do.”
I don’t reply. Just nod shakily.
A stranger just attacked me, and here I am letting another stranger lead me away.
What the hell is wrong with me?
But as Lance helps me down the street, I can’t help but notice how different he is from the man who tried to harm me. His touch is gentle, his voice warm and reassuring. He calms my jittering nerves…but just a bit.
We walk in silence, the occasional sounds of Boulder nightlife slowly returning as we move away from the desolate street. I wrap my arms around myself. This was supposed to be a simple walk. A chance to escape my own thoughts, not become the target of some drunk.
Lance, true to his word, takes me straight to the police station. The bright fluorescent lights seem harsh after the darkness of the streets.
A female officer behind the front desk looks up as we approach. “What can I do for you tonight?” she asks.
Lance steps forward. “I’m Lance Rodriguez,” he says, “Skylar’s brother. We need to file a report. This young lady was attacked near Elm Street.”