Chapter Four
Zee
A streetlamp flickered above just as I froze when I heard the scream echo through the dense night air.
A plea for mercy.
A call for help.
Adrenaline thundered through my veins, mixing like poison where it gathered with the rage still simmering from the confrontation with Veronica.
It was an overwhelming feeling that gripped me everywhere, spurring me forward. It didn’t matter that I was supposed to lay low. That I was supposed to do my best to remain unseen so the paps wouldn’t go digging through my life.
I should make a call and walk on, mind my own business, but there was no fucking way I could ignore the desperate cry that rang from the alley and poured into the street.
There was no caution in my steps when I started running between two run-down apartment buildings, cutting behind a dumpster as I rushed for the alley.
My heart roared in my ears, and I swore I felt myself trip over some invisible line when I saw the fucker who had a woman tacked against a graffitied wall. Cries tumbled incoherently from her mouth, the girl begging and flailing helplessly.
The bastard had her wrists pinned above her head with one hand while he fought to get the other up her shirt.
Anger propelled me, and I rushed their direction without a single consideration of the consequences except for setting her free. I lunged. The asshole was so wrapped up in defiling her that he didn’t even notice me until my shoulder rammed into his side.
He flew through the air.
The girl screamed a sound that landed somewhere in the realm of shock and relief while the piece of shit cursed when he slammed into the pitted, cracked asphalt, pooled with dirty drain water and littered with debris.
I dove for him again, straddling the pussy at the waist, pinning him down. “You piece of shit,” I gritted as the rage I’d held back on Veronica came unleashed.
“Asshole…you’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that.” He spat in my face, struggling to break free.
He was wrong.
Because I felt zero regret when I rammed my fist into his face. He returned the blow, pain shattering through the right side of my jaw, but I shook it off as I felt something inside me come unhinged.
I retaliated. Not for me. For her. Fist after fist. Crack after crack. Again and again.
Flesh against flesh and bone against bone.
He moaned, his fight weakening with each hit. I didn’t stop until his head fully slumped back to the ground and his body went limp.
Struggling for a breath, I pushed myself off him, my eyes wide as I looked at him lying there. My lungs were so goddamned tight, nearly bursting with rage.
Adrenaline pumped too hard and too fast.
Blinding.
I looked at the piece of shit tossed out like a nasty, wasted pile on the ground.
Fury urged the twisted part of me to go back and finish the job. End him. The other part of me was drawn to the girl weeping where she’d slid to the filthy ground and curled into a ball.
My heart stampeded, a thunder that pounded at my ribs and incited chaos inside me I was sure I’d never felt before.
Carefully, I stood, my nerve-endings frayed, spikes of electricity prickling across the surface of my skin like tiny, powerful prods. I edged her direction, both terrified and compelled, somehow knowing this girl needed me.
Blonde hair was stuck to her tear-stained face and blood streaked from the corner of her mouth. She was rocking, and whimpers, which she tried to subdue, were sliding from her lips. When she peeked over at me, she had these eyes that lit up like the whitest flame against the darkness that threatened to consume her.
My chest tightened. I took another step.
My hand was shaking like a bitch when I reached out. She flinched when I set it on her arm.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. Not ever again. I won’t let him hurt you.”
She cried harder at my promise. The gut-wrenching sound somehow ached with relief. I dropped to the ground, and she let me pull her onto my lap. A relieved breath escaped me, because there was no avoiding the impulse I had to wrap her up. Hold her. Protect her.
Because this girl?
She felt light.
Too light.
Too soft and too good and too pure.
Out of place in this pit of misery.
Cautiously, I curled my arms around her.
She sobbed, and I did my best to hide her face in my chest, holding the back of her head in the splay of my hand, like with the action I could protect her from the evils that haunted these streets.
With my other hand, I dug in my pocket and pulled out my phone so I could call for help.
Her hands fisted in my shirt. “He was going to…” She trailed off, no doubt unable to form the words because the girl couldn’t tolerate the thought.
Neither could I, because a fresh bout of rage went sailing through my senses.
I held her a little tighter. “I know…I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I kept my eyes on the bastard on the ground while I impatiently waited for someone to pick up. Finally an operator answered.
“We need an ambulance and the police.” It came out harsh as I rattled off the intersecting street and told them to hurry. For once, I was grateful I was no stranger to this side of town.
Felt like an hour passed while I sat there holding her, my guts in knots, terrified by the way I felt desperate to erase her pain.
When sirens screamed in the distance and that anxiety ebbed a fraction, I knew at least this girl was safe.
That was right before I sensed the cocksucker stirring. But he didn’t groan.
He growled.
I was slammed with a rogue wave of that same protectiveness that threatened to drive me out of my mind. I surged to standing, taking the girl with me.
I set her on unsteady feet and shifted her behind me when he climbed to stand.
If he thought he was going to get to her, he was going to have to get through me first.
He looked like a demon, a web of blood streaking his face, eyes red in the darkness, evil radiating from his stance. He raked the back of his hand over the sneer plastered to his mouth. “Bitch…I warned you.”
A terrified cry, barely audible, rasped into my back. Fingers curled into my shirt.
“I’ve got you. Trust me,” I said so quietly I could only hope she heard.
Sirens grew closer, and I began to edge us back and to the side when the bastard took a step forward.
“Would think twice about that, asshole,” I warned, voice going deathly low.
He laughed.
Dread shivered through my entire being when I saw him reach into the back of his pants. A flash of metal struck in the haze of night.
The prick had a gun.
The girl whimpered. No doubt she’d seen it, too.
My mind was frantic, fumbling for the best way to get out of this, calculating the best move to keep her safe.
“Yeah?” he challenged. “Would say the same to you.”
At least the asshole had that on me. It had been fucking stupid coming down here unprepared. But it wasn’t like I’d ever imagined where I’d land once I climbed off that plane tonight.
I never would have thought I’d end up staring down the barrel of a gun.
“Go… Run.” It was the quietest plea uttered from the girl in her attempt to protect me. Stark terror ricocheted from her to me and back again. Her panicked, strained breaths glided through the thin material of my shirt, heat at my spine and chills across my skin.
Fuel for the adrenaline.
I didn’t know if this moment was chance or fate or fluke. It didn’t matter. No way would I leave this girl behind.
My hands went up, palms out.
Figured my best bet was to placate the fucker.
Buy some time.
“No need for any of that.”
I took another cautious step back, edging her toward the street, my hands pushed out in front of us like they could somehow act as a shield. I prayed the whole time I was making the right choice and not inciting a madman.
My attention dipped to his gun and back to the hostile arrogance blazing from his eyes. “I’d think that would be a bad idea, now wouldn’t you, considering the cops are about five seconds out?”
Seemed like it was just then he realized the sirens blaring down the road were meant for him, the whirl of reds and blues cutting into the night like a dizzying Tilt-A-Whirl.
He hesitated, rocking forward then back.
A cruiser skidded to a stop at the head of the alleyway.
Asshole turned his gaze to the girl, who was peering out from behind me, like maybe she’d been contemplating stepping out in front, like I’d ever let her take that fall.
He smirked at her. “Until next time.”
Then he turned and ran. Two seconds later, the piece of shit was swallowed by the darkness at the opposite end of the alleyway.
My muscles bunched and ticked, my insides heavy with the need to chase him down. To take him out. Ensure that there would never be a next time.
But an officer was yelling freeze, and the only thing I could do was grip the girl’s hands, which were suddenly clinging to the front of my shirt as she again started to sob into my back, the overflow of anxiety and fear pouring out in a rush of tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She kept saying it, again and again, like any of this could be her fault.
“Shh. He’s gone. He’s gone,” I told her.
Slowly, I twisted around, hands in the air, voice gruff as I spoke to the approaching officer. “I was the one who made the call.”
My eyes fell toward the girl I could feel staring up at my face.
Seemed like every emotion I’d ever felt was lodged like a jagged rock in my throat when I looked down at the tormented eyes blinking up at me. Eyes so intense. Too dark to be blue. Too distinct to be anything else.
Standing there, I felt staggered.
Maybe it was the confrontation.
Facing down death and willing to accept it if it meant saving a stranger from a fate I couldn’t begin to fathom.
My fists ached with the foreign feeling left behind by my rage.
I didn’t exactly have the reputation of a fighter. Call me a pussy or a pacifist. Truth was, I wasn’t either of those things. I’d just always been clear about what I was living for.
For the last seven years, all my efforts had been carefully doled out on the two things that were important to me, because I couldn’t afford to put that energy anywhere else.
Standing there, I knew this would cost me.
Everything important in our lives did. Nothing was free and every action came with a consequence.
No. I’d never been known as a fighter.
But looking down at this girl looking up at me?
I knew I’d never regret fighting for her.