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Chapter One
Evelyn
Three months ago: July
I was walking home when it happened.
The skin on the back of my neck prickled, and a series of small shivers ran down my spine. I turned in the street, but there was no one there. I told myself it was just paranoia—the same kind that every woman experiences when wandering dark streets alone at night. I tried to distract myself, to tell myself that it was just the night.
It was eerily quiet. The usual hubbub of New York City seemed muffled somehow, far away from the rain-slicked streets glinting in the low light of sputtering streetlamps. You’d have thought they’d keep the lights alive, with the whole ‘city that never sleeps’ reputation they maintained, but this close to my old run-down block of apartments that were still too expensive for me, no one cared if I could see in the dark. I cut through an alleyway—even Manhattan has alleyways, and while they made an excellent shortcut, it was also an incredibly stupid choice. Hurrying to get home, I crossed the street, and that prickling sensation still crawled up my neck. With one last glance confirming there was nothing suspicious behind me, I slipped into the even deeper gloom.
I passed a couple of dumpsters reeking of rotting junk food and came out the other side of the building, unscathed. From there, I could hear the sounds of the city more clearly, and the low rumble of steady traffic only a few roads away soothed my constantly frayed nerves. I tucked a lock of hair behind an ear, sharpening my hearing, and carried on walking. Something moved behind me. I looked around again, and this time, there was a shape. It was slightly hunched, and skulking just beyond the faint glow of light that glinted off the pavements. I stood under one of the pathetic streetlights. The figure wasn’t moving, and reasonably, I had no cause to believe I was in danger. I pulled my coat tighter around me and moved away from whoever it was behind me.
It’s not your street, Ev, anyone has the right to be here.
I repeated this to myself, but I couldn’t get that feeling of cold fear to leave me. It sat, like some whispering demon, on both of my shoulders, heavy and insistent that I paid attention to it. I hefted my satchel over my chest to secure it, and kept walking, trying to shake off the feeling. There was only a block and a half left of my journey, but I could cut that in half by dodging through a couple more alleyways. The light I was standing under felt like a safety net though, like nothing bad could happen to me if I stayed right there. I steeled myself against such ridiculous thoughts. Firstly, if someone had malintent, the streetlight wouldn’t deter them on such a deserted road, and secondly, I told myself, I really was just being overly cautious. I turned back to see if the hunched figure was around, but they had disappeared. I took a risk and stepped into the alleyway, just eager to get back home. I hadn’t taken ten steps before something hit me.
The blow landed squarely between my shoulder blades, and the pain blossomed out to my arms as I stumbled forward. I hit a wall, a very real, very brick wall. I put my hands out to catch myself and felt them grate against it, stinging as the skin broke into tiny scratches. That was the least of my problems though. Terrified at my unknown assailant, I tried to turn, but the person, who I guessed was a man by the low grunting, pushed a knee into my back, forcing me to the ground. The ground was hard, cold, and damp. I could feel the man forcing his hands under my clothes, and I said a small, brief prayer that someone would come,anyone. Unexpectedly, my father’s voice came into my head. The same words he’d thrown like knives only a matter of months ago.
“It’s you, Evelyn, you just have to ruin everything, don’t you? Moving won’t change that. Don’t expect me to be waiting for a broken freak like you when you come crawling back.”
He had been drunk, of course, he had, but I couldn’t help but think, right at that moment, that his cruel words had somehow come true, like he had made this moment happen, and it was going to ruin my shiny new start.
The fingers fumbled with my waistband, and I knew I had to get out of this. There was no way I was going to prove my father right. I kicked my legs upward. He wasn’t expecting that. There was just the smallest amount of give from him, afforded by surprise, and I took full advantage of it. I was able to roll him off of me, and then I was up, running through the alley. I could see the streetlight on the other side, and all I had to do was run a hundred feet, seventy-five, fifty… this time when he hit me, my breath was knocked from my lungs and for a single moment, I was dazed, floating in the space before my body hit the ground, before my entire life would change because of one violent man’s actions. I braced myself for it this time, and his hand clapped over my mouth to prevent me from screaming as I crashed to the ground. I was roughly handled back onto my front, that same knee crushing me again. Humiliatingly, I began to cry, my sobs and shouts muffled by the hands holding me captive. I knew that there was no way I was getting out of this, unless by some miracle—
“Hey!” a voice bellowed.
I felt my attacker freeze. A low curse was uttered behind me, and I took the chance to try and move, to get away, but his grip was absolute.
“Hey, get away from her!” the same voice called, and then there were footsteps.
Someone was running towards us, and hope was fluttering pathetically in my chest. I felt the body on top of me swept away, and then there was the sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh. I struggled to get up, my breath heaving in my chest, finally clearing into my lungs with ease. I slunk against one wall, and waited there, trying to gain some composure. By some miracle my satchel, although feeling battered, was still clung across my chest. I couldn’t bring myself to get involved in the scuffle between them. The man who saved me was beating thecrapout of my attacker, but in one fell swoop, things changed. He missed a beat, and then the attacker was up and sprinting away from both of us. My rescuer went to chase him, but I called out, stopping him short.
“Don't,” I was able to croak, “You might get hurt.”
The man turned, like he was suddenly becoming aware of my presence in the alley. He strode over to me, and in the low light, I couldn’t make out much except a strong jaw hovering at my nose level, a tense mouth in front of my eyes. I looked down, embarrassed somehow, like it was my fault I’d been attacked.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, still looking down. The man tried to place a hand on my lower back, I was sure it was just to guide me out of the alley, but I shuddered and flinched away. I didn’t particularly want to be touched after what had just happened. Instead, I walked with him, keeping him in my peripheral vision, still aware that I was in a vulnerable position.
When we came out of the alley, I wasn’t sure where we were. I figured it couldn’t be too far from my place, but when I had the chance to run, I had taken it, direction standing up and open. It occurred to me that it must have been his, and in his haste to save me, he had left his very nice car open, in a not so nice area.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
“What for?” he queried.
I looked up because of the genuine confusion I heard in his voice. This was the first real look I had of him, and adrenaline coursed through my veins again at the sight of him. His jaw was just as strong as I had assumed, covered in a rough layer of stubble. His eyes were some light color I couldn’t place in the yellow light, but they were intense. The look in them was guarded, but I could still pick up the heavy memory of fear when he looked at me. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up again, but this time in an almost pleasant way. I shifted my gaze back down, scared of the consequences for looking at something so beautiful for too long.
“For troubling you,” I almost whispered.
This time, when he placed a hand on me, I didn’t pull away. I took a breath and looked back up, and those eyes were still guarded, still slightly fearful, but full of some other kind of confusion. His mouth, a tense line, tightened even more, and I wondered if I’d annoyed him.
“Being attacked is not your fault,” he said firmly.
I nodded, still not fully believing it, but wanting to do something to banish that tense hold from that mouth on that perfect face.
“I need to get home,” I replied, moving away from him.
