Users.
She could see it in the way their shoulders rolled forward, bodies ready to run or hit or steal just to feed the next wave of nothing.
The taller one stepped forward, his voice low and shaking, barely under control. “Drop your shit. Phone. Wallet. Anything with value.”
She didn’t move. “No.”
They hesitated long enough to see if she was bluffing. Then one lunged. She sidestepped hard, pivoted on the ball of her foot, and brought her baton up in a tight arc straight to his ribs. The impact snapped down the alley like a slap.
He fell sideways, gasping.
The second grabbed her coat.
Big mistake.
She twisted, yanked her arm free, and slammed her elbow backward into his face. Blood spattered against the bricks. “You make everything so fucking difficult,” he snarled, stumbling back.
Time stopped.
You make everything so fucking difficult.
You make everything so fucking difficult.
Her breath caught somewhere between terror and confusion. A dull beep filled her ears and her brain. Vision collapsed inward.
You make everything so fucking difficult.
You make everything so fucking difficult.
The cobblestones were just... there. She must’ve fallen. Hands cold and wet on the ground. Knees soaking through her jeans.
Daphne shut her eyes.
She was nowhere. Her world was a void wrapped in panic.
Sounds filtered through–grunts. Moans. A heavy thud. A bone-crack snap.
Then silence.
She scrambled away when a hand touched her shoulder. “It’s me.” The voice was soft, familiar. She blinked fast, over and over, until the edges of a face too perfect to be real took shape. “You’re safe, sweetheart.”
He picked her up like she was made of wind and fear and started walking toward her car. She swallowed hard, eyes closed, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing her, luring her back from whatever place she’d fallen into. She clung to him not out of weakness, but instinct, as if her soul knew it was safe here. When she finally found her voice, it was hoarse but strong. “Call me sweetheart again, and I’ll punch you in the throat.”
He chuckled, unfazed, and kissed her hair. Sweetly. Gently. “Noted. How should I call you, then?”
“I have a name, don’t I?”
“Sure do. And a beautiful one at that, but I’m into pet names.”
“Then buy a fucking pet.”
“How about darling?”
“Depends. How bad do you want to hurt?”
“Babe?”
“Seriously.”
