I understood why Alec was doing it. Without the cash from fighting, we’d be on the street already. But watching him risk his life each month was almost unbearable. I hated The Pit. But sitting waiting for him at home...that would be even worse.
I was just about to stand up when the door rattled. Not hard, just like someone was leaning against it, but it made me jump. I cleared my throat. “Occupied!”I called out, wishing my voice didn’t sound so high and nervy.
A low laugh, the sort that’s shared between friends. And then I saw the bolt on the door slide back.
I grabbed for it, but it was too late. The door was swinging wide and the guy was already inside. Not much taller than me but wider, with heavy muscle under a layer of fat. He was still holding the coin he’d used to open the lock from the outside.
I started to get up. I wasn’t all that scared, yet. My mind was still occupied with humiliation, one hand reaching for my jeans while the other tried to cover my groin. In my head, it was more on the level of some high school prank where the guys invade the girls’ bathroom and laugh at them.
Then his hand slapped across my mouth, his sweaty palm tight against my lips. With his other hand, he lifted me off the toilet and pressed me against the wall. Two more men were crowding in, almost filling the small room. And the true horror of it began to sink in.
One guy closed and locked the door. I could barely hear the roar of the distant crowd, now—even if I could scream, no one would hear me.And no one knows I’m in here.
The guy holding me had wiry brown hair that lay in tangled curls. His foot, when he stamped it down on my jeans and panties to ram them down my legs, was in a work boot, white with dust. I felt my legs bared, then his knee between them, stopping them from closing.
I tried to scream, but my lungs couldn’t get any air. In hisexcitement, the guy had pushed the edge of his hand right up against my nostrils. I tried to kick, but my ankles were still tangled in my jeans and the bundle of cloth was pinned to the floor by his foot. I heaved myself away from the wall, but his chest was pressed hard against me.
I still couldn’t breathe. Every panicked attempt just sucked his hand tighter against my nose and mouth.
His other hand pushed between my legs. Fingers on me. God...inme. I wanted to throw up. I clawed with my hands and managed to scratch his neck, but then one of the other men grabbed my wrists and pressed my hands hard against the wall. All three of them were laughing, the sound ringing in my ears. I heard a belt buckle being unfastened.
I was still straining against their grip, but my vision was going dark. I wondered if I was going to pass out before it happened.
The door gave a single, solitary creak, as if someone was leaning against it. I looked towards it—anything was better than looking at the men’s faces.
With a sound like the end of the world, the door was ripped off its hinges and lifted away, trailing shattered wood. Then it was tossed aside and I saw—
Him. The man who’d been staring at me.
The lead guy’s two buddies ran at my savior, yelling at him. Now my arms were free, but I barely had the strength to lift them away from the wall. My body had gone limp, my lungs burning for air.
The hooded guy grabbed the first man by the t-shirt and hurled him across the hallway as easily as if he was tossing a garbage bag into a dumpster. The man hit the wall with a sickening crack and went down.
The other man tried to land a punch. Mystery guy blocked it easily, then slammed his fist into the man’s side, right over his kidney. The man crumpled, just in time to get a knee to his chin.
My vision had narrowed to a tunnel. My face was wet with sweat, my life measured in seconds, now. The guy holding me glancedbetween me and my rescuer like a predator unwilling to let go of its meal. He finally released me and turned to run.
The hooded guy took a single step forward and slammed a fist up into the man’s chin. The uppercut lifted him off his feet and his head smacked into the top of the door frame. He crashed unconscious to the floor.
I slid to the floor. I was wavering at the edge of consciousness, barely capable of taking a breath, but my tortured lungs managed one weak little gasp. The fetid air of The Pit poured down my throat and it tasted like it came from the Swiss Alps. I took another breath and another, each one a little stronger, until I was gulping it down. It took long seconds for my vision to clear and, when it did, nausea followed it. I wrapped my arms around myself and just sat there, staring at the floor.
My rescuer’s boots stepped into my vision. Then his knees appeared as he crouched down. I didn’t look up at him—I couldn’t. I felt as if I was going to throw up. My jeans and panties were still around my ankles but I couldn’t pull them up while I was sitting and it didn’t feel like my legs would hold me if I tried to stand. I settled for pressing my knees together and hugging my calves tight to my thighs. I hoped most of me was hidden in shadow.
I could feel him watching me. Waiting. Giving me time.
I was shaking. I couldn’t stop shaking.
He didn’t say anything and he didn’t attempt to touch me. I think I would have screamed, if he had. He just crouched there next to me, guarding me. I don’t know how long I sat there—minutes, at least. Once, I heard someone approach down the corridor and saw his head snap up. “Fuck off,”he snapped, and the person scurried away.
Except it didn’t sound likeFuck off.It sounded more likeFeck off.He had an unfamiliar accent that reminded me of cold, unyielding rock.
At last, I felt strong enough to try to stand. I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet, trying to pull my jeans up at the same time, knowing that whatever I did, he was going to catch a glimpse of my pussy.
But instead, as he stood up with me, I saw him twist and look off down the hallway. He kept his eyes averted while I got my jeans pulled up and only looked back when all the rustling of clothes had ceased.
Now that I was standing, I could see more of him—all the way up to his chest. But I still didn’t dare look up at his face. I was burning up inside with humiliation and raw, sick fear. I knew, on some level, that it was over and that I was safe, now. But I’d been shaken on a deeper level. I’d thought I’d known how shitty the world was, how terrifyingly, casually evil men could be, but I’d been wrong.
I was safe, but I’d never feel safe again.
