Page 14 of The Addict

I stumbled to my feet, using the cement wall as support. The look in his eyes and his abnormal actions had made me incredibly nervous the entire time in the bar. Now, he was actually making contact with me directly. My gut was inwardly churning; an outcry for me to stay far, far away from him.

“Umm, yeah. It’s really late...” I whispered, looking over my shoulders for a clear path in case I had to run. I wasn’t thinking straight. My safest bet would have been to re-enter the bar and try to locate Chelsea, so we could leave together. Instead, I continued to take steps backwards, mirroring each step the man made towards me.

My retreat and his calm approach had effectively created a barrier between me and the bar’s back door. I found myself angled more towards the center of the alley. The smell of expired, rotting food from the dumpsters nearby infiltrated my nose. I cupped my hand over my mouth to try and hold in another wave of nauseousness.

“Would you like a ride home?” he asked me, extending a hand.

He has no car. I thought hastily, searching for where he would have left it. I didn’t see any on the road. He marched in angry, with looks that could kill. My eyes flew down to his scantily wrapped hand, which seemed closer to me now, and noticed blood seeping through the cotton tourniquet.

I took another step back.

Don’t be a dumb broad. Walk away.

“No thanks, I’m fine.” I smiled weakly, hoping my kind gesture would deter him.

He smiled too, and for a split second, I felt that I might be okay. “That’s too bad,” he spoke.

I nodded my head politely and turned, instantly understanding my error. Almost immediately, I felt the grip of hands on my arms, spinning me forcibly back around. The other two men had grabbed me in a split second, one on each arm. I struggled hopelessly in their grasp.

Scream.

“Let me go!” I hollered, my throat burning from the force.

My shriek was met with the silence of night around us. Crickets. No cars passed. No sounds but my struggle.

They dragged me deeper into the alley way, further from the bar’s doors, back towards an abandoned building with a rusted stairwell attached to the outside.

“You see,” the cold-eyed man spoke softly, following closely behind his men as they yanked and pulled me behind a new set of revolting dumpsters. “My friends want you to help me. I have a problem that was caused by an earlier incident.”

I shook desperately with fear and tried to pull away from the other two, but their strength topped mine tenfold. “I can’t help you with anything, really. I have to get home, or—”

The sound of a zipper made my throat close and any thought of making a noise was impossible. He was unzipping his pants. This man was going to defile me, right here in an alley, and his friends were going to help.

These things only happen in movies, I told myself. Not in real life. Not to me.

“NO!” I hollered and kicked. My attackers held me back adequately, one of them hurriedly placing a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries for help.

“Hurry up, Silas,” One of the men, clearly older, said. He was irritated. “She might tell...”

Now knowing his name, I bit back my tears and was prepared to beg. His pants were all the way open now, giving me a perfect view of his boxers.

“Silas,” I begged as loud as I could through the man’s hand. His fingers were covered in dirt and tasted of salt and alcohol. Disgusting. “I know that you don’t know me,” the tears fell shamelessly, “But please don’t hurt me!”

Silas knocked his man’s hand away from my mouth and I took the opportunity to gasp for air. He grabbed my chin roughly, causing me to wince. His eyes penetrated mine, and I could not look away.

“I’m sorry dear, but I think you’re confusing me with someone who actually cares.”

I didn’t know if it was shock or fear, but for some reason when he ripped open my shirt like it was paper, I said nothing, didn’t move at all, just stood, petrified.

“She was the prettiest one in the room,” the older of the men spoke again. “Trust me, she’s what you need.”

My chest heaved under their scrutiny. What were they even talking about? I looked from the men to Silas, noticing the look of frustration in his face. Observing the forceful way his hand groped the inside of his boxers. We remained in that moment for what seemed like hours, although it was probably just a minute or so. I concentrated on the hands that held my arms so tightly I could feel my heart pulsing there and wondered why Silas hadn’t hurt me yet.

Then it hit me.

I was a virgin, but I wasn’t an idiot.

He couldn’t get it up.