Walking through the lines of flowers and bushes, I ignored his question and his comment about being attracted to me. “What’s this?” I pointed to a bush that had bright yellow, fuzzy balls with fern-like, deep green leaves connected to it.
“Sweet Acacia. It flowers all year long but don’t touch…” he said just as I grasped the yellow bud and was pricked by its thorns.
“Ouch!” I pulled my finger back and flailed it into the air. He grabbed it and plopped the digit into his mouth. Three things happened all at once.
One, a fire lit in my belly bringing with it all kinds of lustful desire and need so strong moisture set up shop right between my thighs.
Two, that scary, gnawing, anxious feeling wrapped it’s way around my entire body effectively putting me into an immobile lockdown.
Three, my vision went black. When I opened my eyes I was back there. Against that fucking wall.
Chapter 4
“You think you’re special don’t you?” Aaron’s words are a piercing bite loaded with poisonous venom.
I shake my head and try to sound calm. “Not at all, actually.” It’s the truth, but based on his response, he doesn’t agree.
He scowls, turns on a heel and prowls forward until I lift my hands in front of me in defense. Aaron doesn’t stop. Continuing forward, I find myself pressed up against the concrete wall of a darkened area. In a few more steps his chest is against mine, all before I realize what is happening. Inhaling shallowly, I consider the best way to handle this, only the champagne is fogging my reflexes, making my limbs feel heavy and lethargic. “Aaron, you don’t want to do this.”
His face is closer now, and he slides his nose along my temple. Shivers of dread slither down my spine, prickling the hairs at the back of my neck. “Of course I do.” His voice sounds dead, devoid of any real emotion. I push against his chest to see if there is any give. No dice. Fear, ripe and hot, tickles my senses, the fight-or-flight response building within. “Trying to escape, little whore,” he says in a drunken slur.
“I’m not a whore, Aaron. You know that.” I push and jolt my body forward wanting, needing to get away. That’s when things get worse.
Aaron lunges down and bites the space where my shoulder and neck meet. Hard. So hard I cry out, pain throbbing from the wound. He doesn’t seem to care and uses his superior strength against me. “I know my father hired you to be his whore in front of his fucked-up rich friends. I know that you work for an escort service and get paid by the month. Time to get Daddy’s money’s worth.”
“Dios mio, Mia. Please! I’m here. It’s Anton. Anton! I’m not going to hurt you!” Anton was holding me tight, arms locked around my body preventing any movement.
That clawing feeling was so strong I used every ounce of strength, turned in his arms and screamed. He released me as if I were a grenade that just landed in his hands. I ran to the trash can near the edge of the space and threw up. Violent, heaving spams wracked my frame. There wasn’t much there since I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. Thank God. Mostly just coffee and bile. Anton stood close but not so close that the fear hit me again. His arms were crossed over his chest, his hat off and hanging on a string behind his back. His eyes were dark, and filled with sorrow, maybe even pity.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I growled and wiped my mouth on the back of my arm. I needed another shower. Sweat beaded on my brow, and my stomach clenched once more. Woozily I made my way to another bench nearby and sat. Anton followed but didn’t sit down.
He leaned down on one knee and waited until I lifted my chin, and our gazes held. “You can talk to me.” His tone was compassionate, filled with worry.
Frustration and anger hit me with a wallop. “You gonna talk to me?” I smacked my own chest. “What’s up with you and food, Anton?” I shot back.
Inhaling, he pinched his lips with his thumb and forefinger. Something dark turned his green eyes a hazy green. The lines in his face softened as he sighed. “I grew up poor. Very poor. So poor there were many days we survived on water and the scraps my siblings and I could scavenge in the dumpsters of the high priced restaurants near our shack of a home. Puerto Rico isn’t all sunshine, beautiful bikini-clad women and endless beaches. There are many parts that are still very much like a third world country. The east side of the island is very dangerous, and that’s where I grew up.”
“How many siblings do you have?”