Her head snaps back and hits the wall with the force of his push, but this doesn't slow her down. She's still struggling and putting up a good fight, and finally has what she wants from her purse.
"I have mace and I'm not afraid to use it!" she screams, and I can almost hear the man laugh as he slaps it out of her hand.
The can hits the ground and rolls out of sight. I can see the desperation etched into Stacy's face. The man has her cornered, and begins to lift up her skirt, sliding his hand on her thigh, and just as he's about to reach for her breast, I intervene.
I rush forward and grab the man by the throat. If I wanted to, I could end his life right now, with the grip I currently have on him, but I decide that'd be too easy.
The man's caught off guard. I can see the surprise in his eyes, but that emotion is short lived. Now it's fight or flight, and he's decided to fight me.
Wrong choice.
He struggles underneath my grip, and I watch as he raises an arm. His massive fist is balled and heading toward my face, but I duck just out of it's path. He misses and instead, connects with the wall behind me.
He winces with the crushing impact, and a red gash opens up on his knuckles. Now it's my turn. I swing and connect with his lower jaw. This time, the impact splits his lip, and blood spills down his chin.
My heart is racing, and I can't see or hear anything else beyond this man. The target. Suddenly, this has become a mission I have to see through to the end.
I'm seeing red.
The rest of the world doesn't exist at this point.
I hit him again and watch the man stumble back. He's on the ground now, struggling to get up and I give him a quick kick to the ribs. He winces and grits his teeth.
Who does he think he is, assaulting women in subway stations? It's unacceptable. This man doesn't deserve my pity.
I reach down and am about to grab him by his jacket and throw him on top of the subway tracks when I hear Stacy scream.
"Stop!" she yells. "Sanders, don't! That's enough!"
I'm breathing heavy, but hearing her voice calms my rage. I feel my pulse start to slow.
I release my grip, take one final look at the man, and let him go.
10
Stacy
I can hardly believe my eyes. Just when I thought Sanders was gone for good, he's in front of me, and he's saving my life … again. How is this happening?
Sanders has the man in his grip, and I watch as he delivers blow after blow. It's as if he's in a rage trance and the world around him has melted away.
He has one thing on his mind, and that's to beat the shit out of this man. I watch as he grabs the man by his jacket. It looks as if he's going to throw him on the subway tracks, and when the realization dawns on me that this is his intent, I panic.
As much as I hate my attacker, he doesn't deserve to die … and I don't want to see Sanders go to jail for murder.
I look around for my can of mace, which my attacker had knocked from my hands. I find it on the ground and grab it in my trembling fingers.
Pointing it toward the attacker and Sanders, I can feel a scream bubble up my throat.
"Stop!" I yell. "Sanders, don't! That's enough!"
It works. My words have the desired effect, and it's as if Sanders comes out of trance. For the first time, his eyes lock on mine, and I watch as he releases his grip on the man. The man drops to the floor, and realizing that he's free, he seizes the opportunity to scramble to his feet and run.
I've never seen a man run so fast in his life. I can hear his sneakers slap the pavement, and before we know it, he's simply a dark smear in the distance, growing smaller and smaller by the second until he's completely gone.
I'm still trembling. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins.
I'm holding the can of mace as if my life depended on it, and I don't know why, but I'm pointing it at Sanders. It's as if my arms are frozen in this protective position.