“Shhh,” Chasen soothes, brushing my hair from my face.
Fingertips edge closer to my most intimate spot, causing me to buck and attempt to pull away from the intrusion. I look up and down the street, not finding anybody. I’m alone and about to be gang-raped. I close my eyes, spilling tears of shame. I hold my thighs tighter, feeling hands try to tear them apart, bruising the skin painfully.
“You’ve already whored yourself out, so why fight who you are?” The words begin to swirl and echo in my head as I clench my eyes shut and cry harder. Hands pull at my dress, lifting it upward, and greedy palms grasp at my chest uninvited. My breathing becomes so harsh my head starts to spin. Just as I’m about to give in, knowing I can’t fight all three of them, hands which were once intruding are suddenly ripped from my body. Voices which were taunting me turn to ones of painful grunts. I throw my eyes open, curious where Chasen and his friends went, and turn my head. I find a shadowed figure holding Chasen and Buzz-cut by the throat against a brick wall, his foot holding Spiked hair on the ground and pushing his head into the concrete. Chasen and Buzz-cut are both bleeding from the face profusely, and the guy on the ground looks to have his nose completely broken.
“Apologize now!” The shadowed figure roars, making me jump. My fingers clench the rusty fence like a lifeline.
“Sorry,” pant Chasen and his buddy simultaneously. I nod and turn the other way. My emotions so up and down I’m not sure what to feel or think at the bloody sight.
“I will fucking bury you if you ever look at her again. If you so much as walk up this street again, I will murder you in your sleep. Do you understand?” the shadowed man seethes, his words holding venom as he threatens. That voice. It sounds familiar.
“You got it, man,” one of the guys cries.
I watch Chasen and his buddies start limping away back toward the college. Chasen stops, turns around and grabs his crotch, blood spilling from his nose and lip.
“You were a lousy whore anyway!” he sneers, turning to run. I wince from his harsh words.
“Are you okay?”
I blink tears away, my fingers still hooked into the fence. The smell of spice and manliness caressing my senses makes me wake from my state of terror.
“I was just trying to survive. I didn’t know I was becoming a whore,” I whisper gravely. Even if I didn’t have sex with him, I still did things that were immoral in exchange for money. I close my eyes, wetness clinging to my lashes. Jayden and I needed the money, though. We needed food. We needed to pay our rent.
“What?” the voice asks.
I open my eyes, and it’s Landon from the café, looking at me with concern. His brows are raised, mouth parted, as he lowers my dress over my backside gently.
“Charlie, are you okay?” he questions again, lifting my chin with his thick finger. He looks me over as if he’s searching for injury. The fact he even cares is overwhelming.
“You,” I whisper, my body instantly flooding with a sense of comfort.
He chuckles. “You can call me Landon, remember?”
“L—” I choke on my words. “Landon, you saved me,” I mutter, pulling myself from the fence. My knees wobble from the adrenaline rush spiking my bloodstream, and I grab the fence again to steady myself.
“I was in the neighborhood.” He shrugs and straightens his tie. “Come on, you look like you could use a drink,” he invites, his voice smooth yet rough at the same time. He holds his hand out, waiting for me to take it. I bite my lip, unsure, and look back up at Landon. His face is sincere as he waits.
Even after everything that just happened, my body responds to him in a way that doesn’t make sense. I should be running to the cops, or at least be crying it out with Jayden in our apartment, drowning my sorrows in a tub of ice cream. Instead, I hold my hand out and take Landon’s.
I take a step toward him and my knees give out. Landon quickly grabs ahold of my waist and picks me up, holding me like a princess. My eyes connect with his, and my chest aches with desire. The cold that was once there blossoms with a caring warmth.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice low and sexy.
I shake my head and furrow my brows. “Um, yeah. I’m fine. Put me down,” I instruct, wiggling from his strong grasp. The smell of spice and freshness is clouding my train of thought.
He sighs and slowly lowers me.
“I can walk by myself,” I state, slowly standing on my own two feet.
He places his hand along the small of my back, his large frame cordial next to mine. “That might be, but I’m still helping you to my car whether you like it or not,” he demands. His alpha ego takes my breath away, and I don’t argue. I can’t, actually. The idea that someone cares about my safety has me speechless. I’m consumed in the strong vortex that is Landon.
“O-okay,” I mumble.
SIX
CHARLIE