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To say that an argument ensued would be an understatement. I thought Jax and Zane were both going to fly to New York just to kick Maddox’s ass. I didn’t speak to either of the overprotective chauvinist jerks for two weeks.
It wasn’t easy. Everyday I’d have to talk myself out of giving in. I didn’t want to forgive them. I wanted them to realize they can’t control me.
Finally, on the fifteenth day of me rejecting their phone calls and refusing to answer their texts, Jax showed up at my hotel room door. He looked like he hadn’t slept the entire two weeks. I instantly felt bad when I thought about how it was affecting school and his game. I knew my work had suffered because it’s hard to be friendly and welcoming to people when all you want to do is hide under the covers.
After some groveling and a lot of makeup sex, I forgave him. He didn’t like the idea of me and Maddox spending time together, but he didn’t want to fight about it anymore.
He still doesn’t like it, but it’s only for a few hours once a year. After this year, it may never happen again. “What time are you meeting them?” he asks with a tight voice.
“At nine, so in an hour,” I say. Then I stop what I’m doing to give him my full attention. “I miss you too by the way.”
His eyes soften and the clench in his jaw loosens. “Tomorrow,” he says firmly. “Tomorrow just you and me. Zane and everyone else can wait until Wednesday to see you.”
“I’d like that, Jay. I have something I need to tell you anyway,” I say a little sheepishly.
“So, tell me now,” he demands.
I shake my head. “I want to tell you in person.”
I see worry cross his features. “Is this something good or something bad?”
I think about his question for a second before I answer because I’m not sure what the answer is. It’s something we’ve been planning for a few months, but now that it’s happening, I really hope he hasn’t changed his mind. “I hope it’s not bad, but it will depend on you.”
“Okay, now you’ve got me worried, Zo. You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”
“What? No! You know I love you.”
He releases a noticeable sigh of relief. “Well, as long as it’s nothing like that, then I don’t care what you have to tell me. I need to hit the shower, baby. I love you. And I’ll be at the airport to pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”
I wonder if that relief will still be there when I tell him my news tomorrow? I’m actually really nervous, and a little scared of what his reaction will be.
“I love you too. Can’t wait for tomorrow.”
We end the call and I finish putting myself together for dinner with Maddox. Normally we just meet for drinks, but this time I told him I wanted to spend more than an hour in a bar with him. It always felt impersonal, like we haven’t known each other for years.
I put on a sapphire blue sweater dress with black knee-high boots. I straighten my hair with a flat iron before pulling it back into a ponytail. I notice how it still hangs to the middle of my back even pulled up and wonder if I should cut it. I’ve always had it long, but over the last four years it has grown to the small of my back.
I dab on a little gloss and mascara before grabbing my leather jacket to head out. I shoot Maddox a quick text to let him know that I’m heading to the restaurant. He’s quick to reply saying that he’s grabbing a taxi now.
The restaurant isn’t far from my hotel. It’s actually not freezing tonight – not that New York people consider fifty degrees freezing but I’m from the south – so I decide to walk.
A buzzing from my phone tells me I’ve got another text. I giggle at the emojis Jax has sent. I look at the taco, eggplant, rocket ship, and water drops that are nothing but sexual innuendos. He sends those things to make me laugh, but it’s been seven weeks since I’ve seen him, and honestly, I can’t wait to get him naked.
I look up from my phone and realize I have walked past the restaurant by a several blocks. The consequences of not paying attention, I guess. I turn around to go back toward the restaurant.
I’m only a few blocks away when the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I get a swirling, sinking feeling in my gut as I continue to make my way back. I pick up my pace refusing to look behind me.
I let out a sigh of relief when I can see the restaurant until a hand covers my mouth. I struggle against a large body, my heart pounding with fear and terror, as I’m pulled into an alleyway a block from the restaurant.
My eyes quickly dart around trying to figure out where I’m at, but the alley is nearly totally black. I am shoved roughly into a wall as a pair of hand begin to work their way up the hem of my dress. My fight or flight instincts kick in as I stomp my foot onto my attacker’s foot, digging the stiletto of my boot into their toe.
“Fucking bitch,” a deep, gravelly voice grunts as he tosses me to ground.
I cry out as the pain of hitting the concrete with such force rushes through my body. I immediately begin to crawl backwards away from the man, who is dress is an expensive suit and I recognize as someone who’s been at the gallery several time the last couple of weeks.
I try to get my footing and stand but he quickly grabs my ankle and pull me back to him. I want to scream at him to go away, but my voice won’t work, so I kick, my heel contacting his thigh. With a curse, he kicks his own foot to my abdomen causing me to curl up in pain, then brings his fist down to my face.
My mind begins to race. Terror seizes every ounce of my being. Why is this happening to me? The man climbs on top of me, and I hear the sound of a zipper being lowered. I begin to cry, beg, plead for him to please stop. White hot pain sears across my face as another blow is dealt. Blackness threatens to take me under, and I plead for it to do so as the man rips my underwear from my body.
