I stomped on Ed’s booted foot with my bare one, sharp pain exploding in from my foot to my hip, hurting me more than him, but it was just enough to momentarily stun him. I broke free from his grip.
I’d only made it a few steps when I was yanked backwards by my hair, sending me flying onto my back, smashing the back of my head into the concrete. For the second time in twenty-four hours, the wind was knocked out of me. My windpipe wouldn’t open. My lungs struggled inside of my body, painfully asking for air. My vision became hazier and hazier.
This was the very reason why I was seeking protection from a biker. At that moment I wished that Bear had just taken me to his place instead of sending me to King.
But then, I remembered my renewed promise to her.
I had to protect her. At all costs.
And I wasn’t going down without one hell of a fight.
When Ed tried to drag my legs down and pry them apart, I kicked out wildly until my foot connected with his face. Blood spurted from his nose, and the heel of my foot felt like it was on fire.
“You’re gonna pay for that, bitch!” Ed hissed.
Rearing back, he punched me square in the jaw. My head twisted to the side and fell onto the concrete with a thud. My mouth filled with warm coppery liquid.
Ed held something cold and sharp at the base of my throat. “Try to fight me, cunt, and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he warned through tight lips.
With an unsteady hand holding the knife, he ripped down my sweats and panties in one forceful yank. Each of my gasps elicited another sting from his knife.
I closed my eyes. This is what happens when you wish for death, right?
Sometimes, wishes come true.
I only hoped that he would kill me when he was done so I didn’t have to relive this moment for the rest of my life.
Not even a day had passed since I made my promise to protect her and I’d already failed.
Ed shuffled around with his pants, and I braced myself, coming to terms with the fact that I was going to die under a bank awning in a little town in the middle of nowhere.
As no one.
Then, Ed was gone. His weight suddenly disappeared.
There was a shuffle, then a loud explosion that echoed through my ears. A familiar sound.
I wanted to lift my head to see what was happening, but my neck wouldn’t cooperate, and my head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
Strong arms reached around my back and under my knees, lifting me effortlessly into the air, cradling me against a hard chest. I tried to fight off whoever it was, but I couldn’t manage anything more than a wiggle.
“I’ve got you,” a familiar deep voice murmured into my hair.
King.
“I thought you were letting me go,” I said, my thoughts all swimming around each other in my head, smashing into one another.
“I changed my mind.” King’s muscles barely tensed under my weight. He covered me with a leather jacket and wasn’t the least bit strained when he walked out into the rain.
The world around me grew fuzzy. “I thought my life was supposed to flash in front of my eyes?”
“Why would you think that?” he asked. In my weakened state, I didn’t know if the concern in his voice was genuine or something I was making up.
“Because that’s what happens when you’re dying,” I answered.
“You’re not dying.”
“Oh, good. Because I don’t have a life to flash in front of my eyes. I thought whatever higher power exists up there was just showing me you instead.”
“Why would you see me if you were dying?” he asked. When I didn’t answer immediately King shook me and said something about trying to stay awake, but I couldn’t listen. I believe what I said next was very similar to, “‘Cause you might be all angry and stuff, but you’re really pretty to look at.” I yawned. “Why did you come back for me?”
I used all the energy I had left to open an eye and glance around King’s shoulder. Ed was slumped against the ATM, staring blankly ahead.
A bullet hole between his eyes.
King held me tighter and lowered his mouth to my ear.
“Because you’re mine.”
Doe
I awoke submerged in warm water. Every ache and bruise and sore throbbed in the healing heat. When I opened my eyes, King was hovering over the edge of the tub, washcloth in hand.
I gasped and sat up quickly, sloshing water over the side and onto the floor. I scooted to the far edge, crossing my arms over my breasts. King forcefully grabbed my wrist and pulled, removing the only protection I had against his gaze. With his other hand, he trailed his calloused fingertips from my collarbone to my breast. When he made it to my nipple, he pinched.