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“You did. I thought we were going to talk? About… about my father?”
He chuckled again. “You just get into strange men’s cars to talk? Come on. Don’t play fuckin’ dumb.”
My heartbeat surged in my chest as my breath caught in my throat. On instinct, my hand flew to the handle of the car door. Locked.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
How could I have been so fucking stupid? My desperation for answers about my father had made me rash and reckless, and maybe Flint had seen that. Maybe he’d known that if he just dangled the carrot of answers before my face, I would abandon safety and reason and follow him wherever he went.
We began to crawl to a slower pace, and the car turned down an alley. It was narrow and poorly lit, lined with a few large dumpsters that looked like hulking monsters in the darkness.
Oh, God. Nothing good ever happened in dark alleys.
My fingers shook as I pulled my phone from my coat pocket, turning away from Flint and swiping desperately to Bishop’s name in my text messages. But I had only managed to type out two words to him before rough hands grabbed my shoulders. Flint grappled the phone from my grip and threw it down to the floor of the car.
“Oh, no you don’t, you little bitch.”
Then his hands were on my shoulders again, pulling at the coat I wore, yanking the zipper down, sliding inside to cup my breasts. I thrashed in his hold, and when he moved one hand up to grab my chin in a bruising grip, I pulled my head back and bit him. Hard.
The nails of his other hand dug into the soft, tender flesh of my breast, making me gasp in pain.
“You bitch!” he snapped, swearing as he jerked his hand away from me. Red blood was smeared across his skin, and I could taste the coppery tang of it in my mouth.
Pure instinct drove me. In the few seconds it took him to recover, I turned away again, yanking at the old-fashioned pop-up lock and kicking the door open. I tumbled out, rocks and gravel digging into my knees through my leggings. The corners of my eyes stung as pain radiated out from the wounds. I pushed myself up, scrambling to get to my feet as the car’s other door slammed open.
This had been a mistake. A huge, monumental mistake. The reality of that chilled my blood even as my heart pounded heavily in my ears.
Run, Cora. Run. Run.
I needed to get away from Flint. I had no idea where I was or how to get back home, but I could figure all of that out if I could just get away from the large man with the unreadable eyes and the raspy voice.
As he rounded the car, I bolted. Flint had parked all the way at the end of the alley. All I had to do was get to the opening, get to the street. He wouldn’t attack me out in the open, would he?
But was there even anyone on the street to stop him?
“Get your spoiled little ass back here!”
When I was less than fifteen feet from the mouth of the alley, Flint grabbed my hair and yanked. He pulled me back, tugging me away from the alley opening. Freedom was at that opening, hope was at that opening, but I was pulled farther and farther away from it as I struggled in his hold.
He tossed me against the brick wall of one of the buildings lining the alley, then pressed against me, forcing my legs open.
“You’re kind of a dumb bitch.” He chuckled, the sound like rocks scraping together. “Poking around asking criminals about your daddy. And then you come here asking all these fucking questions. Dropping names. What made you think I was gonna tell you shit?” He laughed. “Not like it matters. You’ll be easy to get rid of. After some fun.”
Horrific realization wracked through me as he shoved my skirt up, tearing at my leggings and ripping the fabric like tissue paper. Cold air met my skin, and the feel of his hand on my bare thigh made vomit rise in my throat. Balling my hand into a fist, I lashed out wildly, catching him across the cheekbone with a wide right hook. He grunted and stepped back, his weight heaving away from my body temporarily. But before I could try to run again, he backhanded me, knocking the sense from between my ears.
A ringing sound filled my head, and I tasted a fresh wave of blood from where I’d bitten my lip.
Struggling to stay conscious, I hit him again, but my aim was worse the second time. He barely seemed to register the glancing blow, and then one large forearm pressed against my neck, pinning me to the wall and nearly cutting off my air supply. Panic spiked in my chest, and I spit the blood drawn from my lip back at him as
he tore at my panties.
“Goddammit.” He grimaced, but didn’t release me to wipe away the blood and spit on his cheek. Instead, he pressed into me even harder. “You think because you’re daddy’s little princess you can just walk around and ask whatever you want, get whatever you want, huh?” he sneered. “Well, fuck you and your daddy. You both are gonna get what’s coming—”
The loud squeal of tires cut him off. An engine roared, and the sharp, bright beams of headlights fell on us like a spotlight. Then several car doors slammed. Flint and I both heard them, but I was the only one who seemed affected as I looked over, my heart leaping, hoping for a miracle.
I let out a choked breath at what I saw. Flint’s forearm on my neck kept me from turning my head much at all, but from the corner of my eye, I saw three distinct figures approaching, backlit by the headlights behind them.
