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I take a few steps backward and he reaches for my arm, but I hit him with my grocery bag and dart into the street. He’s bigger than me with a longer stride and ends up right behind me. He puts one arm around my waist and his other hand over my mouth and drags me toward the dark alley. I kick and thrash in his arms trying to break free, but I’m just too little for my fight to have any impact.
He backs into the alley and I stretch out my arms and grab the walls of the buildings on either side. He tugs at my waist, causing waves of pain to run up my spine, and the palms of my hands burn as I lose my grip, but I hold on long enough to be seen.
The blue and white lights of a police car flash and a siren blares as a male voice screams, “Let her go, now!”
The hooded man panics and drops me to my knees. He runs into the darkness of the alley as the policeman rushes toward me, weapon in hand. He looks down at me and stops in his tracks. He seems to recognize me and looks torn between staying with me and pursuing my attacker.
“Are you going after him?” I shout, fully prepared to make my escape when his back is turned. I think he knows this because he holds his hand out and helps me to my feet. He’s the biggest man I’ve ever laid eyes on and I look up at him and ask, “Can I go home?”
“You haven’t been home in six months. What’s the hurry, Ms. Richards?” he replies.
“How do you know my name?”
“I’ve been looking for you for a long time. Now that I’ve found you, we need to have a little talk.”
“Where?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“At the station,” he answers and places his handcuffs around my right wrist. He walks me out of the alley and hooks the other end of the cuffs on the iron porch rail of the building.
“Stay here,” he grins, then goes back down the alley after my attacker.
I hear the sound of trash cans hitting the ground, then screaming and rustling like there’s a struggle. The next thing I know, a patrol car pulls up and an officer jumps out and rushes down the alley. He returns with the hooded man in cuffs and places him in the back of his car. The detective returns and frees me from the porch rail.
“Sorry, I couldn’t risk you running off on me,” he tells me. He leads me to his sedan and opens the back door for me.
He turns off the light and siren and radios that he’s on his way in. The radio cracks and a voice asks for confirmation that the patrol car has picked up my assailant. He looks at me in the rearview mirror and says, “You’re lucky I found you, but I’m lucky I found you, too.”
I look into his eyes and something comes over me. He’s very handsome, sure, but for some reason, I feel like I can trust him and my guard slowly starts to come down. Maybe there is a way out of this, after all. Maybe he’s the key to getting my life back.
We arrive at the police station, and he helps me out of the car. He holds both of my hands and looks me over. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m a little sore and my hands are scraped up, but I’m okay,” I tell him.
“You’ll need to talk to the booking officer first so we can book that dirtbag, then we’ll get you fixed up and fed. After that, you and I have some talking to do,” he explains.
“Thank you for helping me,” I feel like a kid looking up at a superhero.
“Of course, I’m just glad that I was there to help,” he smiles and I feel a little flutter in my belly. He’s older but ripped like a bodybuilder, with smooth skin and deep, dark eyes. I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. I’m a witness and a crime victim. That’s why he’s being so nice to me. I can’t expect anything more.
FINDING CARRIE
CHRIS
Iwould say that the universe was smiling down on me, but that wasn’t the way that I wanted to find Carrie Richards. If I had left the station five minutes later, I might have been picking up her lifeless body from that alley and adding a second murdered co-ed to my case list. I recognized her from her student ID photo, but that picture didn’t do her justice.
She’s an absolute dream in real life. My ears ringing, heart slamming against my ribs. Primal hunger roars through my chest, and it takes everything in me not to pull her close and slam my mouth to hers.
Focus, Chris. Focus.
I know that her attacker is still in the alley. There is only one way out and it’s through me. I pull my penlight out of my shirt pocket and walk slowly into the darkness, shining my light in the recessed basement doorways and up onto the fire escape ladders. I pass a row of trash cans and he leaps out from behind them, trying to make a run for it. I catch him and spin him around on his heels.
He throws a punch at me but misses, so I return the favor. My blow lands on the bridge of his nose, and I hear a snap as the bone breaks. His knees buckle and he falls to the pavement with so much force that his head bounces off the ground.
Carrie Richards is wearing my handcuffs, so I hold him at gunpoint until the patrol car arrives. My only regret is that I didn’t get to teach the piece of shit a more personal lesson. The thought of him putting his hands on her makes my blood boil.
I leave Carrie at the desk of the arresting officer and take a seat behind the glass walls of my office. I have a clear view of her from here and watch as she tells the officer what happened.
She reminds me of a porcelain doll, lovely to look at but too fragile to mishandle. Even now with her hair a mess and her clothes unkempt, she’s the most beautiful girl that I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I wonder how she’s managed to stay out of sight for so long. She must stand out in any crowd.
