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I deserve this, I thought, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.
I don’t know how long I stayed in that alley, sobbing my eyes out. Thomas March’s handsome, leonine face kept flashing before my eyes and I cried bitterly until my lungs were wracked with pain and I could cry no more. My sinuses were filled with a hot, liquid snot that felt as heavy as cement. I wished I could blow my nose, but I didn’t even have a tissue on me.
Blinking unsteadily, I began the slow, long walk from where I stood to the nearest subway station. Even though it was Friday night, Manhattan seemed unusually quiet. The only sounds that filled my ears were the sounds of my heels tapping on the concrete ground. In the distance, I could hear groups of people laughing. I envied them.
Stupid people, I thought bitterly. One of my heels tripped over a crack in the cement and I came crashing painfully down to my hands and my knees. Crying out, I gasped as I made full contact with the ground. My knees were stinging by the time I hauled myself into a standing position and I winced as I wiped the bloody scrapes free of gravel.
A car pulled up beside me, then slowed on the sidewalk. I narrowed my eyes. Was someone actually going to try to help me? Did I look as pathetic as I felt?
I watched nervously as the back doors opened and two men stepped out. When I realized I didn’t know them, I sighed with relief.
“Stop staring,” I called, brushing my bloody palms off on my dress. It was new, but it didn’t matter – it wasn’t like I’d be going on any more dates with Thomas.
The men advanced on me, leering at me.
“It’s rude,” I called in a shaky voice. Swallowing nervously, I turned on my heel and began stalking away from the two men. Their feet began to slap the pavement and I broke out into a run. In a matter of seconds, I felt four strong hands wrap around my arms and hold me in place.
“Leave me alone!” I shrieked loudly. “Help! Help! Somebody help me!”
“Shut up, bitch,” one of the men hissed. “We’re armed, and we’re not afraid to shoot you.”
“Help!” I shrieked once more. A sharp elbow to my gut made me cry out in pain and before I knew it, my eyes were rolling back in my head. Something wet and foul-smelling was pressed to my face and suddenly, everything went black.
Chapter Sixteen
Thomas
“June!” I screamed. “June, where the hell did you go?”
My voice echoed off walls and buildings. The crowds of well-dressed people around me eyed me with pity, like they felt sorry for me.
“Stop staring, assholes,” I muttered under my breath. “You want to keep looking at Thomas March, you’d better take a fucking picture.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d been chasing after June for blocks, and I still hadn’t managed to catch her. I had no idea how she was managing to run so quickly – especially in heels. When we’d gone out before, she’d barely been able to walk.
But somehow, I was starting to guess that my June was a fast learner.
Finally, in complete frustration, I turned around and went running back to Aguilar, the Spanish restaurant where we’d started a disastrous evening. I knew that it had been wrong to shut June out, but I couldn’t have possibly told her the truth without ruining her evening, too.
Now I felt like a fool. I should’ve been honest with her from the beginning, and told her what was bothering me. Now, I worried that I’d ruined a lot more than dinner. I’d acted like a complete fool – how the hell was I supposed to apologize for that? I just needed to find June and talk to her in person…I was sure she’d listen to what I had to say.
On my way down the block, I pulled out my phone and dialed June. Predictably, it went straight to voicemail.
“June, this is me – Thomas. I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I swear that I’m not angry with you at all. Something really bad—“
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Looking down in frustration, I groaned when I saw that Marlene was calling. I hit ‘ignore’ but by the time I got back to June’s voicemail, the inbox was full and I couldn’t leave another message.
“God damn it!” I screamed. For a moment, I was tempted to smash my phone on the sidewalk. But then I realized that if June got my message, she wouldn’t be able to call me back. Breaking into a run, I darted across the street and into Aguilar.
“Yes?” the maître d looked up at me. “Forget something?”
“Did she come back?” I asked breathlessly.
“Who, sir?” He narrowed his eyes. “Who are you talking about?”
“The girl with black hair, the one I was sitting with,” I said quickly.
